The man uses the pistol to threaten Ava out of her hiding place, and he takes us both into the house. She stops crying and gets that vacant look in her eyes again. Her nose is running and I wish I could wipe it.
The house is filthy and smells like rotting food and body odor, but the table is covered with yellow pill bottles and a quart-sized Ziploc bag full of pills. There’s tinfoil and wrappers, and another bag of white powder.
So this is the thing important enough for the Trendalls to trade their tiny daughter’s innocence.
For the first time, I’m glad there’s a hell.
He sits down across from me and keeps his gun on me, as he waits for what I assume are the Trendalls to come over and deal with me. His TV is on, and I see my face on the screen again.
“You look different,” he says, staring at me, “but I can see that it’s you.”
I don’t say a word. I just sit there and wait, looking around and taking stock of everything in the place that I can use if I’m given an opportunity. He’s locked the deadbolt on the back door. I look away, but in my mind I rehearse running to it, clicking the deadbolt to the right, throwing the door open, pushing through the screen door . . .
But what about Ava? I can’t leave her here, and I can’t just abduct her. But maybe she would follow me out and get away through the open gate.
I look around and see the dusty shelves with things I could throw or swing. There’s a chipped vase I could use if I could get close enough to it.
Next to me on the table is a heavy glass ashtray, full of butts and ashes, close enough for me to reach. I could throw that.
He’s taken my phone, but he’s got it in his front shirt pocket now. Dylan has kept calling, but the man has silenced it. I study his bloodshot eyes. If he’s a user and not just a dealer, that could work to my advantage.
Finally, I hear a vehicle outside, and the front door flies open. Nate and Tiffany rush in. “Mama!” Ava cries.
Tiffany and Nate ignore her. “Aw, man, this is perfect,” Nate says. “We couldn’t a planned this better.”
“You killed Cole,” I say through my teeth. “You ran him off the road. And you’re letting this scum molest your daughter in exchange for drugs.”
Defiant, Tiffany bends down in front of me. “You’re the one who ran him off the road. That’s what we told the cops. It’s all over the news. We could shoot you right now and tell them you came after us. The whole world would congratulate us.”
I glance at Ava, who’s standing silent by the door. “You can’t do this in front of your daughter,” I say.
“Ava’s mature for her age.”
The tragedy in that statement almost undoes me.
Nate lights a cigarette and inhales, then reaches for the man’s gun. But he won’t surrender it. Nate points to me. “You sit still and you don’t have to worry. Unless you give us a hard time, he’s not gon’ kill you.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
Nate pulls out his phone. “I’m just gon’ make a quick phone call.” He navigates with his thumb, then clicks Call.
I hold my breath as I hear a man answering. Nate says, “Detective Keegan, Nate Trendall here. You’ll never guess who’s sitting in front of me.”