4:25 P.M.
At the entrance to the Shoe Mill, Parker peeps out. Lips is talking through the gate to Mole and Wolf. Seeing them, he rages silently against the guy with the gun. How hard would it be to kill them all right now? He could probably take them out before they could react.
When the killers are all looking the other way, Parker slips out of the store.
He’s about ready to check out the AT&T store when he looks across the hall. How could he have been so stupid? If Moxie is trapped in here, he knows exactly where she is.
Keeping clumps of people between him and the killers, he slowly moves toward the Van Duyn candy store. He ducks inside. A section of the white counter has been flipped up. He checks behind the cash registers. No Moxie. With his bound hands, he eases open the door at the back of the shop. Once he’s inside what turns out to be a small workroom, he uses his foot to gently close the door behind him.
At first, the room appears to be empty. His heart sinks. Then he takes another step and catches a glimpse of red. Moxie is tucked on the far side of the marble worktable that sits in the center of the room. Judging by the empty brown paper candy cups strewn around her, she has polished off at least a dozen candies.
From behind the finger he holds to his lips, Parker whispers, “Moxie!”
“Parker!” Her eyes go wide. She jumps to her feet and hugs him. With his hands bound, he can’t return the hug. When her slender arms go around his waist, his eyes get wet. He angrily blinks away the tears. Why couldn’t his little sister be outside and safe? Instead she is only a few yards away from a dead man and killers with guns.
When she steps back, she tilts her head. “What’s happening, Parker? Why are you tied up?”
He taps his finger against his lips again. “We need to be really quiet, Moxie. There are bad men outside. Did you see them?”
“I wanted a free candy sample, and then there was all these loud noises!” She holds her hands over her ears to demonstrate. “Everybody started running. The candy lady pushed me in here and said I had to be quiet and hide. And she said I could have all the candy I wanted.”
Moxie’s only experience with death has been a robin that bounced off their living room’s floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over Lake Oswego. That day, she begged Parker to make the suddenly boneless bird fly again. How will she react when she sees what’s outside this room?
He can’t let that happen.
His eyes go to the marble-topped worktable. It holds empty gold cardboard boxes of various sizes, white wrapping paper, and stacks of ruffled brown paper cups. And a large knife, presumably for cutting up samples.
If he cuts his zip ties and the killers find out, they’ll kill him. Screw it. He grabs the knife and manages to slide the blade, pointing toward him, between his wrists. With a few contortions, he saws through one of the loops. A few seconds later, he’s free.
Now that he’s found Moxie, what should he do? Going back into the hall is clearly not a good option. He has to keep her as far away as possible from the men with guns.
He turns in a circle. The ceiling is made of white acoustical tiles held on metal rails. Even if he could get her up there, the tiles don’t look strong enough to hold Moxie’s fifty pounds.
What about the cabinets under the counter? He opens a door, revealing boxes of candy. The shelves are about eighteen inches apart, a couple of feet deep, and maybe about four feet wide. Even if he wanted to hide there, there’s no way he’d fit. But Moxie’s built like a sprite.
“Okay, Moxie, right now we’re going to play a game. We need to hide even better from the bad guys. And if we are really, really quiet, they won’t catch us.”
“I’m good at hiding,” Moxie offers.
“That’s why you get to hide first,” Parker says. “But you can’t come out unless you hear me tell you to.” He imagines a future where he’s dead. “Or the police. But no one else.”
He can see Moxie thinking about this, her head tilted to one side. What are the chances that she will actually stay hidden, that she won’t get bored and come out, even if he leaves her with a stash of candy?
And then Parker thinks of a solution, because it’s the same trick that always works on him. “Forget it,” he says, turning away. “I don’t think you can do it. The minute you get in the cupboard, you’re going to want to get out again. Or you’ll make a noise. You’re not old enough. You’re not patient enough.”
She tugs at his hand. “I can do it. I’ll be really, really quiet. I’ll be like a teensy little mouse.” She pinches her lips closed.
He eyes her, his expression fake-dubious, which echoes his real internal doubts. His mom always talks about sugar highs. How long until Moxie is literally bouncing off the walls?
Still, he opens the cupboards, and pushes boxes out of the way, and has her slither back on her belly.
“Okay. Now it’s time to make it so that no one can see you.” He begins stacking boxes in front of her, starting at her feet. If it were him, he’d feel claustrophobic, but she doesn’t make a sound, just watches him with her bright blue eyes.
“But where are you going to hide, Parker?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got a really good place picked out.”
Her brows draw together. “But where?”
“It’s a secret,” he says, putting a last stack of walnut fudge in front of her face. As soon as he does, he’s sorry that he hasn’t kissed her or touched her one last time. “Are you good in there?” He tries to keep his voice from sounding strangled.
“Yeah,” she whispers.
“And remember, don’t come out until you hear me or the cops, okay?”
“Okay.”
He thinks of another tactic to keep her hidden. “I’ll bet you that I am the better hider. I’ll bet you five dollars.”
“I’m going to win!” Her voice is muffled by the boxes.
“We’ll see about that.”
He starts to close the cupboard door, then worries that won’t leave enough fresh air. He leaves it ajar a careful half inch, then picks up all the wrappers and puts them in the trash. He doesn’t want any of the killers coming in and wondering where the person who ate them went. The papers are so light, as flimsy as his and Moxie’s chances of surviving this.
The door to the workroom doesn’t have a lock. But he won’t go back outside. Instead, he turns off the light and settles himself in the corner behind the door. In his hand, he clutches the knife.