Think Like A Criminal

Chapter 12

For the next three days Cara felt like she was never left alone. Vincent stuck to her like a shadow. If she went to the kitchen, Vincent would come in a few minutes later and casually sits on the small stool while she looks for something to eat but only comes out with one of the bottles she had in the freezer. If she sat in the living room to distract herself with television, he would saunter in later and join her. If she went to the bathroom and when she was finished, she would find him either 'going' in his room or 'coming' out of it. This was more than just a coincidence and Cara knew he might be on to her and her plan. The only time she was left alone was when she was in her room, so she decided to spend more of her time in there but that was also ruined when she saw out of the window to found Vincent shovelling snow aside. He would not leave her sight until she was sound asleep.

But what really bugged Cara was why she was allowed to wander around the cabin freely. Excluding her time in the basement, she had not been treated like a normal hostage. They gave her food – proper food cooked by Victor. He would sometimes ask her what she would like to eat. Moreover, Vincent and her banters had decreased to a minimum. After that night, except for his creepy, continuous eye keeping on her, Vincent had been civilised. If she was not kidnapped, she would have believed him to be almost normal.

Taking a hot shower before dinner had become her routine. It helped her think clearly and come up with more possible ways to make her escape. Wrapping her hair in a towel, she wore black track pants with white plain T-shirt. She took out her beige coloured shawl from her suitcase and headed down for dinner. She climbed down the last step to see that Victor had finished placing everything on the table. He looked up when he heard the floor creaking against her socks clad feet and gave her a huge smile. Cara could not help but smile back.

Then and there she promised herself to help Victor when all of this is over. From what she heard the morning after her kidnapping, he wanted a professional life which meant something – someone – forced him in this occupation. She was sure of this after witnessing his reserved reaction when she asked him about it in the basement.

The cabin was warm and toasty because of the fire in the fireplace next to the television box.

"Hey!" he greeted, "Come, come. Dinner's ready."

Gathering her shawl and walking near the sofa she saw he made cheesy white sauce pasta. Her mouth salivated at the sight of such hot and heavenly goodness.

"You must be hungry," he said, "Let's start dinner."

She sat down in her usual place and waited as Victor scooped a generous amount of pasta from the dish to her plate. Accepting it from him, she picked up the plastic fork but stopped and looked around.

"Where's your friend?" she asked nonchalantly, as she took a bite out of her pasta. She could not help but moan at the blissful taste exploding in her mouth. She could not wait to chew down all of it and ask for another serving. She made another promise with herself to ask Victor the recipe for this pasta when all this was over.

"He's out getting some more firewood," he answered, dishing out a serving for himself as well. That was it; he did not explain it further. After the basement, Victor had been a little distant from her. He would smile and greet her like normal but when asked a question he would only answer the obvious, not bothering to explain it. Maybe she should have waited before asking about his involvement with Vincent but she could not change the past neither her circumstances. She has a race against time and she had to find out as much as she could about them while her time in captivity.

For a few moments no one spoke. The only sound that could be heard was the scraping of plastic utensils on the paper plate and the crackling of the fire. Swallowing down her bite, Cara cleared her throat to get Victor's attention.