An hour later, Myles watched Kenzie disappear around the corner of the house and then waited several seconds. Then he knocked loudly on Ms. Edna’s screen door, rattling the entire frame. Adjusting his recently purchased, secondhand electrician’s shirt, he straightened his shoulders.
This entire idea was doomed to fail, but they had to try. It was the only idea they had to get inside Edna’s house and figure out what her son knew.
For a moment he closed his eyes and prayed fervently for favor. God, please keep Kenzie and me safe. Show us where we need to go to find whatever information Whitestall might know. Father, you know my desire is to serve You and protect Kenzie. Please give me the wisdom to do both.
After what seemed like an eternity, shuffling steps sounded from the opposite side of the door, and Edna’s white hair and wrinkled face appeared on the other side of the screen. She squinted at him, and he tugged on the bill of his baseball cap, praying she wouldn’t recognize him from the day before.
“What do you want?” Her voice was like gravel and her eyes like flint.
Myles closed his eyes and sent up one more quick prayer for favor in finding what they needed inside Edna’s house.
“Hello, ma’am. We’ve heard about some possible gas leaks in the area. Would you mind if I checked your furnace line to make sure there isn’t a problem?”
Edna glared at him so long that he was sure she would refuse. Then she finally reached out and unlocked the screen door. Not bothering to open it for him, she nodded her head down the short hallway, making her way toward the back of the house. Myles jumped into action, following closely behind her and silently thanking God for her acquiescence.
“Make it fast,” she said, at the top of a short flight of stairs. “I was just heading out the door.” Her eyes were stern, and he had the distinct impression that she had nowhere pressing to be. She just didn’t want him in her house any longer than absolutely necessary.
Myles took a quick glance around the kitchen and into the disaster that could only be Larry’s room just off the kitchen. Then he nodded and hurried down the steps, thankful that she didn’t follow behind him. Hurrying to one of the high basement windows, he quickly unlocked it and pushed it open. Immediately Kenzie’s feet popped through the opening. He grabbed her waist as she slid through and landed easily on the floor.
He quickly jiggled the gas line attached to the furnace, twisting the line slightly.
“What are you doing?” Kenzie asked, her face a mask of bewilderment.
“Making sure she really doesn’t have a gas leak.” Shooting a smile at Kenzie, he hurried back to the stairs. His feet landed silently on each step as he crept toward the door to the rest of the house. Suddenly Edna appeared on the landing, her hands firmly planted on her hips.
“How much longer?”
“It’s going to be a little while. I was just coming to let you know. Your line was a little loose, and I want to make sure it’s secure. Would you like me to light your pilot while I’m here?” Myles silently shot a prayer toward the ceiling that Kenzie had ducked out of view and was invisible to Edna’s prying eyes.
“Make it fast!” she snapped, turning on her heel.
Myles turned back to Kenzie as she slipped from around the concrete corner of the wall. He put his finger to his lips and listened to Edna’s footsteps moving toward the far corner of the house.
Finally he whispered, “Stay behind me until we hit the landing. Then get into Larry’s room as fast as you can. Dig around in there until I come get you. If you hear Edna, hide.”
Kenzie looked doubtful, but finally nodded her acquiescence, her eyes huge in the dim light. He felt only a twinge of guilt over sending her into the untidy room, but he doubted that anyone would be able to find anything in the pig sty. Plus, she could be as careless as she liked, and no one would ever be able to tell anyone had been snooping in that room. He needed to look carefully at the rest of the house, unhindered by a walking shadow.
He turned and hurried toward the kitchen landing, his eyes peering into every corner, trying to get the lay of the land. Immediately pushing Kenzie into the pig sty, he hurried silently around the kitchen.
He turned to look for the trash can, tripping over a four-legged fur ball. His heart jumped to his throat in surprise. “Great, I’m scared of fluffy white cats,” he grumbled silently as he pushed the cat away with his leg and moved to the trash can. Empty, the bag just replaced. No scraps of paper or notepads lying around. Everything in its proper place. The kitchen would be little help. Keeping an ear open, he crept down the short hallway toward the front door. He passed another hallway, leading toward two more doors, one closed, the other ajar. He figured that was Edna’s bedroom, and probably where she was at that moment.
In the foyer he spotted what he’d been looking for. Just where he had seen them the day before sat the three stacks of newspapers. They tugged at his imagination, conjuring images of all kinds of crazy reasons for a woman to keep such a collection of newspapers. He doubted they had anything to do with Kenzie’s kidnapping—there were too many to have accumulated in the few short days since his prison escape—but maybe they could clue him into something about the missing prison guard.
He knelt on the floor next to the largest stack and quickly scanned the first page. A headline about halfway down the page announced that the governor’s race was closer than anyone expected. Another article condemned the gubernatorial candidates, including Judge Claudia Suarez for running accusatory and unfounded advertising campaigns.
Rifling through the stacks, he found only newspapers from Mondays, and they went back more than a year.
What could possibly be so special about Mondays? Will she take tomorrow’s paper and add it to her stacks? He mentally talked himself through the piles of papers.
Deep in thought, he almost missed the tiny creak of the floorboards.
Movement down the hallway!
Oh-crud-oh-crud-oh-crud-oh-crud! Shoving the stacks of papers back into formation and racing down the hallway, he slid past Edna as she backed out of her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Thank You, God, for that little favor.
Keeping his footfalls silent, he raced into the bedroom where Kenzie hid. Just as he slid past the door and closed it most of the way, his mountain lion wound screamed in pain. Looking down, he noticed the metal bed frame that had connected with his injury. He chomped on his lower lip to keep from hollering with the agony.
His eyes sought out Kenzie’s across the room. She poked her questioning eyes above the unmade bed. He just shook his head and again pressed his forefinger to his lips. Kenzie nodded as Edna puttered into the kitchen.
Footsteps approached the door, and a hand clamped onto his forearm. Myles looked into Kenzie’s anxious gray eyes. Her clean, fresh scent surrounded him. Kenzie’s little hand let go, then immediately reconnected with his forearm as she clung to him. Silence hung in the air, but she spoke through little squeezes of her fingers. As slow footsteps moved closer to the cracked door, she squeezed tighter. If he could see her knuckles, he was sure that they would be white. A shadow blocked the light coming from the kitchen, and he was certain they were doomed. But her grip relaxed as the footfalls moved farther into the kitchen.
And then the worst possible thing happened. Ms. Edna picked up the telephone. One beep, as she punched in the first number. Two. Three. Four, five, and six. Please, just one more. Beeps seven and eight. Nine and ten. A long distance call.
Myles groaned inwardly and clutched the knee of his suddenly shaking leg with the hand that wasn’t occupied as Kenzie’s squeeze toy. He clamped his hand over his thigh and felt the sticky ooze through his pant leg. Suddenly his head began spinning, and he had to lean his chin on his chest and close his eyes.
He could hear Edna talking on the phone, but could make out nothing she said over the rushing in his ears. Her footsteps worked their way from one wall to another in the kitchen, and in his mind’s eye he could see her pacing to the end of the curly phone cord and then stretching it in the other direction. With her right on the other side of the door, they were trapped.
And who knew for how long?
After several minutes of silence, Kenzie leaned in until her lips brushed his ear. “Are you okay?” He nodded in response but could not summon the strength to speak at the moment. Clammy with sweat, he leaned into her shoulder. Then her arm slipped around his shoulder, and she rested one cool hand on his forehead.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” her voice almost inaudible but strong.
“Yes.”
“You’re weak. What’s wrong?”
How on earth could she know that something was wrong? There was no way she could see his leg in the darkness, though the reopened wound on his right leg howled in pain at just the thought of it. “I’m bleeding again.”