20

 

Ed was in a hurry to get back to his office at the golf course. He pulled into the driveway and waited for Cora to get into the house.

She was relieved to get home. The premonitions about her sister had been so strong; she needed to actually see Emily, in order to satisfy her intuition.

“Em! I’m home. Where are you?” As Cora neared the guest room, the shower could be heard along with Emily as she sang a rousing rendition of “The Man on the Flying Trapeze.”

“O-o-o-oh, he flies through the air…with the great-est of e-e-e-ease…”

Cora giggled and went to get some much-needed coffee. She filled her cup and headed for the bedroom, eager to ditch the itchy outfit Ed got for her. Now that he saw her wear it twice, the prickly dress was destined for the back of her closet, along with the matching shoes. Her bunions were in an uproar. As much as she hated to admit it, those duck slippers were quacking her name.

She was still in her slip when the bedroom door popped open. Her heart jumped to her throat. “Emily! You scared me to death.”

Emily laughed. “I’m sorry. I heard a noise in here and thought it was a boogieman.”

“And you came dressed like that?” Cora pointed to her sister’s terry bathrobe and fluffy pink Barbie slippers.

Once they regained composure, Emily sat on the end of the bed. “So, what did your doctor say?”

Cora put her satin robe and duck slippers on. “Good news.” She took a sip of coffee and explained the doctor’s findings. Suddenly she stopped. “Did you hear that?”

“It’s probably Ed.”

“No, he dropped me off because he had some work to do at the golf course.” Cora looked at her twin. “Think we should check it out?”

Emily nodded and whispered, “We need a weapon just in case. What have you got?”

“Oh, Em. I can’t think of anything, except a can of hairspray.”

“That’ll work. I’ll put it in my pocket and I’ve got my cell phone, too. We can call 9-1-1 if we need to. Let’s go.” Emily grabbed Cora’s hand. “Stay with me.”

Quack-quack!

“Take those dumb ducks off. He’ll hear you.”

They were in the middle of the hall when a loud crash followed by a man’s booming voice came from the other end of the house. They froze and waited for further commotion. Cora held her half-filled coffee cup in one hand and duck slippers in the other.

Together, they tiptoed through the kitchen and into the hallway, just outside the office. With one eye, Cora peered through the crack of the partially opened door. Books and objects covered the floor. A shiver ran down her spine as she saw a man about their age. He wore a denim jacket and mumbled while he attempted to break into Ed’s desk.

She held her breath, and leaned closer to the opening. Come on buddy, look up. I wanna see your mug. His curses became audible, and she backed away.

Emily peered in. She turned to her sister, pointed a finger in the air and tapped her temple.

What was she going to do? Cora wasn’t good at charades. She watched in amazement as Emily held her phone up and pressed a button. Photographs. She took his picture.

The intruder opened the desk and rifled through each drawer with reckless abandon. Obviously, the man didn’t find what he was after. He stood and stretched his back.

As he turned, his craggy features came into view. With eyes as big as hubcaps, Emily grabbed the sleeve of Cora’s robe and snapped another picture.

With the door still ajar, Cora juggled her almost empty coffee cup and her slippers. The two backed away as the man continued to explore, oblivious that several photos had been taken.

Cora stared, engrossed with his ardent search. He yanked out the middle drawer, dumped the contents, and then tossed it on top of the cluttered desk. Ed’s golf bag pencil holder fell off and a jumble of pens and pencils littered the floor.

“The pencil holder.” He rushed around the desk and picked it up. His pudgy forefinger dug into a zipped pocket. He pulled out a key and headed for the safe.

Cora realized the danger they were in, and tugged on Emily’s arm. They had to get away. Emily carried the cell phone with the incriminating photos close to her. They took two steps.

Then it happened…the cell phone rang.

Emily’s flinch bumped her sister’s hand and Cora dropped her cup to the tile floor with a crash.

They were toast.

A gruff voice yelled. “Who’s there?”

Emily whispered, “Hide.” They scurried to the kitchen, and Emily left the ringing phone on the counter.

Cora ran for the pantry. They barely squeezed into the small enclosure as sounds of the intruder drew closer. Fearful images of a physical attack sprang to Cora’s mind. She managed to shut the squeaking door behind them, not a second too soon. She drew a deep breath. Through the louvered slats, they observed the beefy man bolt into the kitchen and survey the room.

His sinister eyes darted about. They watched him pick up the cell phone from the counter. Would he see the pictures? Emily gasped, and her hand went to her chest.

Cora felt the shadowy cubicle close in on her. That was when she noticed Emily’s breathing had become labored. Did she need her medicine?

Jeff said that it would bring on an incapacitating headache. Should she take the nitroglycerin anyway?

Only Em could make that decision. When her sister’s hand went into her pocket, Cora instinctively knew she was after the pill…or the hairspray.

Her attention returned to the hefty man.

The intruder’s shifty eyes locked onto the pantry door. He slammed the phone on the counter, then turned and left the kitchen. Cora eased the death grip on her slippers. He was gone.

Emily was fidgety. She whispered, “Did you see who that was?”

“He doesn’t look familiar to me.”

“Well, I know him from somewhere. I bet he was in cahoots with that guy that killed himself.” She clutched her chest. “I’ve got to get out of this pigeonhole.”

“I don’t think it’s safe to leave yet. Can you wait a few more minutes?” Cora held her wristwatch up to the slats in the door. The barely sufficient light allowed her to see it was almost one o’clock.

Emily placed a tiny white pill under her tongue, and leaned against the shelving.

Would a headache follow? This pantry was no place for Em to be immobilized. They needed to move soon, before the severe pain rendered her helpless.

Cora struggled to put her slippers on. She’d have to remember to tiptoe to keep the ducks quiet. She spoke softly, “Now’s our chance. If we can just make it to the front door, we can go to Dahlia’s for help. Wendell and Jack will be there eating lunch. Ready? Let’s go.”

Cora pushed on the door. It stuck. A fresh panic clinched her heart. Don’t scream. Be brave for Em. She took a deep breath, then, pushed harder, and the creaking door compliantly yielded. Cora stopped short, and waited for a response to the squeaky disturbance.

When all was quiet, she assumed it was safe, and took a tentative step forward. With desperate determination, she ventured out of the pantry. A box of macaroni fell to the tile floor with a loud crack. Emily backed deeper into the pantry as little elbows flew far and wide.

From the hallway came a hoarse whisper. “Cor-rah.”

Her heart plummeted right to the soles of her duck slippers. She glanced in the direction of the voice. The intruder abruptly appeared, ready to strike. Cora’s slippers quacked as she dodged him. She reached for the counter to regain her balance. A firm hand grabbed her arm. Crushing fingers dug into tender flesh.

“Let me go!” She flailed and clawed at his rugged face.

His grip increased as he stepped behind her. “Nice try, Cor-rah,” he growled. “All you had to do was give me the envelope.”

In the hallway, she writhed in the futile attempt for freedom.

He yanked her right arm behind her.

Her bones felt brittle as he delivered a sharp wrench.

Finally, he trapped both her arms and backed her tightly against himself. “Don’t try that again,” he warned through gritted teeth. “Or you’ll be sorry.”

“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” Cora weakened at the intensity of his strength.

Without warning, Emily fell from the pantry, and landed in a heap. The hairspray can rolled into the middle of the kitchen floor. Cora moaned. The nitroglycerin pill had taken effect.

“What the—?” He ignored Cora’s continued pleas, and half-dragged her back to the kitchen. Her foot twisted on the broken cup and a shard pierced her ankle. Cold metal touched her neck. Hard and threatening.

He released Cora with a warning. “I’ve got a gun. Move and I’ll shoot her.” He grabbed Emily from the floor and threw her over his shoulder, and then he waved the gun at the garage door. “My van’s out there. We’re all going to go quietly without attracting attention. Got that?”

With a gun pressed in her back, Cora led the way. She had to protect her helpless sister from this monster. Once she came to, they’d make their plans for escape. That was their only hope. A still, small Voice spoke to her. Fear not, for I am with you.