Eve held her breath and crept back around the house. She was trying to make her way to the car when she heard the front door of the house open, and she quickly slid back to a hiding place under the kitchen window. She leaned over and peeked around the corner. The man with the gun was walking toward the driver’s side of Daniel’s car, Dorisanne stumbling in front of him, held close to him, his arm wrapped around her waist, the gun pointed at her side.
Eve dropped back to where she was hiding and heard the car door open and close, peeked again, and watched then as both of them hurried away from the car, going back in the direction of the front door. She heard the beep signaling that the man had taken the keys from the ignition and locked the car.
It appeared that he had come outside and was checking to make sure that Daniel was alone. She was glad she had made an exit when she did, happy that her instincts had been right. He must have opened the door to take the keys, though, and, she realized as she felt around in her empty pockets, her phone not there, that he had probably also taken that or, at the very least, locked it inside the car. She realized that she had no way to get back into the car and no way to make a call. She slumped down, her back against the side of the house, and tried to figure out what her next move should be.
She looked to her left and saw the row of warehouses, with no vehicles anywhere around. The closest business, she recalled, was a diner about a mile away from the house. She looked to her right and in front of where she sat, the view from the back of the house, and noted that the street with the closest houses was also more than a mile away. The thought of heading toward the diner seemed like a good plan, but she worried that if she made a run for it in that direction, the man would see her from the rear window, and that would only make things worse for Daniel and Dorisanne.
Eve was unsure of what move she should make, knowing that going for help in either direction was going to involve almost twenty minutes of walking. Feeling anxious, she leaned back against the side of the house, closed her eyes, and prayed. It was just one simple word, the prayer she prayed more than any other: “Help.”
She took in a breath and then glanced back again to her left and then to her right. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She smiled as she noticed that just around the corner of the back side of the house was what she knew to be the tip of the rear tire of a Harley-Davidson, Dyna Super Glide, more than likely from the year 1997.
She dropped to her knees and headed for the bike, crawling and staying well below the windows of the house. She couldn’t hear anything from inside, and she hoped that was good news, that the man holding her sister and friend hostage had not yet started shooting, that perhaps Daniel was trying to talk their way out of there or that there was something, anything, keeping the man from killing his prisoners.
She reached the corner, stood up, and walked around to the front of the Harley. She glanced around, still not seeing anyone in the vicinity. She reached around the handle bars and felt for a key but quickly discovered it was not there. But of course, who left a key in the ignition of their ride?
Knowing that the noise of the engine would be loud enough to reveal her presence and likely cause more trouble for everyone, she turned the bike around and walked it away from the house, into the empty lot to the east and well behind 2245 Lone Star Place.
She crossed herself as she usually did when she was about to do something questionable like hot-wire a bike and then reached for the ignition cap and removed it. She found the wires, leaned down, and yanked them apart. She figured out which one was the hot one, crossed it, and made her leap onto the seat just as the engine started. She slid the motorcycle into first gear and took off, heading away from the house and hoping that the man didn’t hear his Harley being stolen right out from under his nose.
Eve drove as fast as she could through the empty desert lot until she finally hit the row of houses behind the one on Lone Star Place. She thought about stopping at the first house she came to and asking if she could use their phone, but she worried that time was too valuable. She knew that having to explain who she was and what she needed and why she was riding a motorcycle through backyards without a key in the ignition might create more trouble than it would alleviate.
She drove through the first yard in her path, watching in her rearview mirrors as a man ran out the front door, screaming at her, and then she sped up, making her way to the paved street and heading toward the main drag that she and Daniel had been on before making the turn onto Lone Star Place. She was speeding toward the diner when, out of nowhere it seemed, a police car came flying up behind her. She had not seen it anywhere previously, but it didn’t matter, she knew it would provide the assistance she needed. She quickly pulled off to the side of the road, dropped the kickstand, leaving the engine running, and jumped off the bike.
She was running in the cruiser’s direction when she suddenly saw the driver’s door open and a gun being raised and pointed at her.
“GET DOWN!” the police officer shouted from behind the door. “GET DOWN RIGHT NOW!”
Eve stopped and dropped to her knees. She raised her hands in front of her.
“Turn around. Hands behind your head!”
Eve did as she was instructed, spinning around on her knees, turning away from the officer, and placing her hands behind her head.
“Now, drop facedown to the pavement.”
Eve started to turn around and speak, try to explain what had happened, what was going on at the house just a few miles away from them, but she soon felt a heavy hand on her neck, pushing her face to the ground. She was in a bowed position, one of submission and obedience, a position that she knew all too well.
“I’m trying to get help,” she said to the man standing behind her. “My sister—”
“Just shut up!” the officer responded. “It seems a lot of people are looking for you. I saw the APB on this bike about an hour ago. Of course, they think you’re in Vegas, and the description they have of you is all wrong since the report is that they are looking for a man, but they definitely got the bike right.” He was trying to pull out a pair of handcuffs while he held on to Eve’s neck, but he seemed to be having some trouble doing it with only one hand.
“I stole the bike,” Eve said, her face pressed against the street.
“Well, that’s just another charge we’ll get to bring against you.”
“No, I’m trying to explain that I stole the bike from the man you’re looking for. He’s got my sister. He’s going to kill her.”
The police officer was still trying to put the cuffs on her, getting one around her left wrist and starting to put the other one on her right. It appeared to Eve as if this wasn’t something he was very used to doing, and she wondered just how much crime there was in Pahrump, Nevada, and if the officer had ever even made an arrest.
“Well, that’s a nice story. I’m sure the Las Vegas officers will love to hear that. How did you learn to steal a bike anyway?” He continued to struggle with the cuffs, and Eve was tempted to assist.
It was then that she heard a vehicle heading in their direction. She turned to look and saw Daniel’s car careening toward them. She jumped up and fell against the officer before the car made a turn, barely missing them both. She could see that the man with the gun was driving, but she was unable to see anyone else in the car.
“That’s him!” she yelled at the officer. “That’s the man you’re looking for!”