Alex Cross 02 - Kiss the Girls by James Patterson Page B

Opium.
    He’d bought all of it for her, hadn’t he?
    Next to the bed was a copy of
All the Pretty Horses,
the same book she had bought on Franklin Street in Chapel Hill.
    He knows everything about me!

Chapter 26
    D R. KATE McTiernan slept. Awoke. Slept some more. She made a joke of it. Called herself “lazybones.” She
never
slept in. Not since before med school, anyway.
    She was begining to feel more clearheaded and alert, more in command of herself, except that she had lost track of time. She
     didn’t know if it was morning, noon, or night. Or even which day it was.
    The man, whoever the bastard was, had been inside the mysterious, despicable room while she slept. The thought made her physically
     ill. There was
a note
propped on the bedside table, where she was sure to see it.
    The note was handwritten.
Dear Dr. Kate,
it said. Her hands were trembling as she read her own name.
    I wanted you to read this, so that you understand me better, and also the rules of the house. This is probably the most important
     letter you’ll ever receive, so read it carefully. And please take it very seriously.
    No, I am not crazy or out of control. Actually, I’m quite the opposite. Apply your obviously high intelligence to the concept
     that I’m relatively sane, and that I know exactly what I want. Most people don’t know what they want.
    Do you, Kate? We’ll talk about that later. It’s a subject worthy of much lively and interesting discussion. Do you know what
     you want? Are you getting it? Why not? For the good of society? Whose society? Whose life are we living, anyway?
    I won’t pretend that you are happy to be here, so no false-sounding welcomes. No cellophaned basket of fresh fruit and champagne.
     As you will soon see, or have already, I’ve tried to make your stay as comfortable as possible. Which brings up an important
     point, perhaps the most important point of this first attempt at communication between us.
    Your stay will be temporary. You will leave—if, Big If—you listen to what I tell you… so listen carefully, Kate.
    Are you listening now? Please listen, Kate. Chase away the justifiable anger and the white noise in your head. I am not crazy
     or out of control.
    That’s the whole point: I am in control! See the distinction? Of course you do. I know how very bright you are. National Merit
     Scholar and all that.
    It is important that you know how special you are to me. That’s why you are completely safe here. It is also why you’ll leave,
     eventually.
    I picked you from thousands and thousands of women at my disposal, so to speak. I know, you’re saying “lucky me.” I know how
     funny and cynical you can be. I even know that laughter has gotten you through difficult times. I’m beginning to know you
     better than anyone has ever known you. Almost as well as you know yourself, Kate.
    Now for the bad parts. And Kate, these next points are as important as any of the good news I’ve stated above.
    These are the house rules, and they are to be strictly observed:
    The most important rule: You must never try to escape—or you will be executed within hours, however painful that would be
     for both of us. Believe me, there is precedent for this. There can be no reprieve following an escape attempt.
    Just for you, Kate, a special rule: You must never try to use your karate skills on me. (I almost brought your gi, your crisp
     white karate suit, but why encourage you to temptation.)
    You must never call out for help—I’ll know if you do—and you will be punished with facial and genital disfigurement.
    You want to know more—you want to know everything at once. But it doesn’t work that way. Don’t bother trying to figure out
     where you are. You won’t guess, and will only give yourself an unnecessary headache.
    That’s all for now. I’ve given you more than enough to think about. You are totally safe here. I love you more than you can
     imagine. I can’t wait for us to talk, really