TWENTY-ONE
Shane’s eyes darted back and forth, from Karen to Teddy to Joshua. He grabbed the gun from the waistband of his pants.
“The hell is going on?” he said. He stared at Karen. “Did you call the cops?”
“No,” Karen said.
“Did you call them?”
“No, we’ve been tied up the entire time.”
“Why they here?”
“I don’t know. I talked to them earlier. Maybe they have more questions.”
The doorbell rang. Shane frantically looked around the room.
“Keep quiet,” he said to them. “Maybe they’ll leave.”
“The cars are out front,” Karen said. “The house lights are on. They’ll know someone is here.”
Shane cursed. Looked down at the gun, over at the window, down the hallway, his head on a swivel. He walked over to Karen and leaned in close.
“I’m gonna cut you loose,” he said. “See what the cops want, and get rid of them.”
She nodded.
“I’m staying back here. My gun’s gonna be pointed at the kid the entire time. The cops start looking around the house, they start to suspect something’s up, I will kill the kid and take out as many people as I can. If I’m going down, I’m taking everyone with me. Understand?”
“Yes,” she said.
“I am not messing around here. This ain’t no empty threat. You don’t get rid of them, and this will turn into a bloodbath. I got nothing to lose here. Believe me when I say that.”
The doorbell rang again. Shane grabbed a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and cut through the zip ties cinched around Karen’s wrists and ankles. He pulled her out of the chair and lightly shoved her over to the door.
“Go,” Shane said. “Get them to leave.”
Karen walked down the hallway. Her mind was racing, her hands trembling as if she had some sort of palsy. Everything felt so chaotic. The police—she couldn’t believe the police were here. There were a million possible explanations. Maybe there’d been a security camera she was unaware of at the hospital. Maybe someone had seen her breaking Amber out. Maybe Carmella had decided to confess everything. Maybe Brian had caught a glimpse of her before she locked him in the room.
She reached the door just as the doorbell rang a third time. She looked out the peephole. The same detective she’d talked with at the hospital was outside. Franny.
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
“You’re home,” Franny said. He wore a button-up tucked into a pair of jeans. Maybe it was in her mind, but his eyes seemed harder than before. More suspicious. Like he knew something was up.
“You’re a tough woman to get ahold of,” Franny said. “I’ve been calling you constantly.”
“My phone broke, actually,” Karen said.
“Glad I caught you.”
“Is something the matter?”
“You could say that, yeah,” Franny said. “I’d like to discuss a few things with you. Can I come in?”
She couldn’t think straight enough to come up with a reason to say no. She led the detective inside and he sat down on the couch. Karen sat on the recliner across from him. She kept her ears tuned for any sort of noise from the other room, just down the hallway. All it would take was any sort of noise for the situation to turn into a disaster.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about everything that happened,” Franny said. “The lady being broken out of the hospital, all that.”
“I heard. A few coworkers told me about it.”
“Heck of a thing, isn’t it?” he said. “We think it was her husband who pulled it off. The nurse who was moving her described the man who attacked her. Lanky, rough. Vague description, but it sounds like her husband.”
Karen nodded. So Carmella had stuck to the story.
“Now that she’s disappeared, this has turned into a big deal,” Franny continued. “Much more than some random shooting. And that brings me to why I’m here. I have a few more questions about the story you told me earlier.”
Joshua sat in the storage room, still reeling from the past five minutes. It had been a roller coaster of emotions. There’d been a brief glimmer of hope when he heard that the police were here, then anxiety and unease as his mom left the storage room. And now, as he sat in his chair, just barely able to hear his mom talking to the police in the living room, he didn’t really know what to feel. He had no idea what was going to happen next.
Shane stood only a few feet away, clenching his gun, holding it like he was just waiting for a reason to start shooting.
Joshua looked at his dad. He gave Joshua a weak smile. Was there any chance they would survive this? Any chance at all?
Maybe he should do something. He thought about yelling out. Making some sort of commotion. The police were only a few feet away—this was a chance to end this. It might be the only opportunity they’d get.
It all boiled down to one question.
Should he take a risk?
Should she take a risk?
Karen thought about alerting Franny somehow. A hand gesture. Lowering her voice to a whisper. Or maybe writing a note and passing it to him. A man is in the other room, holding us hostage. He has a gun. Please help.
But then what? She had no idea. She might save them all. Or she might make the biggest, costliest mistake of her life.
“Easiest thing to do would be to get your story again,” Franny said. “So go ahead. Walk me through it.”
“Walk you through what?”
“Finding her on the side of the road. I need to make sure I have all my details straight. So tell me your story again. Step by step. I know you did earlier, but maybe I missed a detail. Maybe you forgot to mention something.”
“Sure,” Karen said. “I was driving along and—”
“What time was this, again?” Franny said.
She thought back. “Early. Four in the morning—around that time.”
“And where were you going?” Franny said.
She paused. Thought back to the first time she’d talked to Franny. What explanation had she given him?
“Where was I heading? Nowhere, really. I couldn’t sleep. Just decided to drive around.”
“Do you do this a lot, drive around in the early morning with no destination in mind?”
“Sometimes. It’s calming. It helps when I’m stressed-out.”
“Okay, so you’re driving along. Then what?”
“I saw something on the side of the road. The closer I got, the more I realized it was a body. A woman. She was moving. After that, everything is kind of hazy. I remember pulling over. Realizing she was hurt. I applied pressure to the wound. Helped her into my car.”
“And you’re sure the area you took me to earlier was where you found her?”
“Yes. Positive.”
His eyes stayed on her for a second; then he pulled out a notebook and wrote something in it. He looked back up and stared at her with cold, hard authority.
“When you found her, did she have the backpack with her?” Franny asked. “The bag full of money?”
Karen shifted in her chair. Her eyes skittered away from Franny, around the room, down the hallway. “She did, yes. It was strapped on her back.”
“So she’s just lying there on the side of the road, shot, with a backpack full of money?”
“Yes. Exactly. I had no idea what was in the backpack, though. I barely even paid attention to it.”
“What happened after you put her in your car?”
“I drove straight to the hospital. I asked her a few questions to distract her. Nothing important.”
“I know I asked you earlier, but why didn’t you call nine-one-one?” Franny spoke in such a direct, focused way. She got the impression he was trying to make her uncomfortable. It was working.
“All I cared about was saving her,” she said. “Once I was halfway to the hospital, I thought about calling nine-one-one. By that time, I figured it’d be quicker to keep driving and take her myself.”
Franny slowly nodded. Her eyes flashed around the room, down the hallway again. Stop it. If she kept nervously looking down the hallway like that, Franny would start to wonder why.
“And you’re sure you didn’t see anyone else in the area when you found her? No one running from the scene or anything like that?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Think back. Take your time. You never know what might be relevant.”
“There was nothing,” Karen said. “She was all alone out there.”
He silently stared at her for a few moments after she answered. He knew she was lying to her. She could just tell it. She was positive he was going to ask why she wasn’t being honest, ask her what she was hiding . . . or ask to see around the house.
Instead, he put his notebook away and stood up from the couch.
“One final thing to say, and I’ll be on my way,” he said. “I just want you to know, you need to be totally honest with me. You could be in a lot of trouble if you don’t give me the whole story. If you’re worried or scared, there’s no need to be. We can protect you.”
“Protect me?”
“Sometimes, people see things and they’re reluctant to tell the police the entire story. Maybe they’re worried they might make an enemy out of some bad people if they get involved, put themselves in danger, so they figure it’s safer to keep their mouths shut. I’ve seen it happen plenty of times. Or maybe they were threatened. ‘Don’t say anything to the police or we’ll find you and harm your family,’ that sort of thing. If that’s the case here, let me know. There’s no need to be scared. I can make sure you’re safe.”
“No. I’ve told you everything.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course. I wish I could help you. Believe me.”
“I’ll be on my way, then. If you think of anything at all, contact me.”
Franny kept his eyes locked on her for a second longer, then walked over to the front door. Karen followed him. For a second, she allowed herself to relax. It was over. He was leaving.
And then it happened.
From down the hall, Amber yelled out.
The ringing doorbell woke Amber. She blinked a few times and looked around the room. She had no idea how long she’d been passed out. Her skin felt blisteringly hot, scorching everywhere. Her throat was so dry that it felt as if it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper.
Water—she needed water.
The doorbell rang again.
She looked out the window and saw something that nearly floored her: a car was in the driveway. A black Crown Vic. Even through her blurry vision, she could see the government license plate and the three long antennas mounted to the trunk.
An unmarked cop car. She was positive of it.
Her heart hiccupped in her chest.
The doorbell rang a third time and she heard the front door open in the living room. There was talking. A voice she didn’t recognize. A man. She waited for the police to come storming in and save her. Waited to hear the sounds of Shane getting blown away in a shoot-out. Waited for . . . something to happen.
But all she heard was talking. It went on for a while. She couldn’t understand what the people in the living room were saying, but they kept talking, on and on.
More time passed. And then she heard the voice she didn’t recognize mention something about leaving.
Leaving? No. That couldn’t happen.
She opened her mouth. Tried to push out a scream. Nothing. Her throat was too dry.
She heard movement in the living room. A noise that sounded like the front door creaking open.
She tried to yell again. “Help” came out, but it was barely more than a low croak, like a dying engine.
She took a deep breath and pushed it out from the pit of her stomach. There was a stabbing, excruciating pain. She gritted through it and kept pushing, harder, harder.
And finally, she yelled.
Franny stared at Karen. “What in the world . . . ?”
She froze. Amber’s yell wasn’t as loud as her screams from earlier—this noise wasn’t even really a scream; it was more of a groan, a hoarse, guttural sound—but the noise was still clearly audible in the living room.
“Who was that?” Franny said.
Karen cleared her throat, tried to keep her expression calm and composed. “My son,” she said. “He’s sick. In bed.”
“Is he all right? He sounds terrible.”
“Sounds worse than it is,” she said. “Bad sore throat. He’s been like that all day.”
Franny stared back at her. He believed her—at least, she thought he did. The noise had clearly come from a person, but it didn’t sound female. There was no cry for help or anything like that. More than anything it sounded like a grunt, like something from a caveman.
Just then, there was the sound of a few quick, heavy footsteps from down the hallway. Franny glanced over but most of the hallway wasn’t visible from where they were standing.
“Was that him?” Franny asked her.
“Yes. He’s been in and out of the bathroom all day.” She yelled toward the hallway, “You all right, sweetie?”
No response.
“Check on him,” Franny said. “See if he’s all right.”
“I can check later. Once you’ve left.”
“Go ahead,” Franny said. “I can wait here. Better safe than sorry.”
She nodded and walked across the living room, down the hallway. Hurrying without running. She had to get to Amber before she yelled out again.
In the bedroom, Shane was already standing over the bed, his hand clamped over Amber’s mouth. The footsteps she’d heard earlier. In bed, Amber weakly writhed, trying to slip free, but she was no match for Shane.
“Go back,” Shane said, whispering, staring at Karen in the doorway. “Get rid of him.”
She nodded.
“I can hear everything. Don’t try to tip him off. Trust me, I can make it to the other room before he can.”
She walked back out to the living room. Franny stood in the same spot, right in front of the door. A calm, focused look on his face.
“Everything okay?” Franny asked her.
“He’s fine,” she said.
“You’re sure? He sounded terrible.”
“Nothing some NyQuil and bed rest can’t cure.”
Franny motioned out to the driveway.
“All these cars out here, who do they belong to?”
She looked outside. Her car and Joshua’s were parked next to each other. Teddy’s Tahoe was parked behind them. In the grass a few feet from the driveway was a dusty Ram pickup—must be Shane’s car.
“My car, my son’s car, and he does bodywork in his free time. Those other two are cars he’s working on.”
It wasn’t the best explanation, but it was as good as she could do. She waited for Franny to ask her more questions; instead, he thanked her for her time. He opened the door, exited the house, and walked to his car. She watched him through the window. When he passed Joshua’s car, he paused and stared down at the crack in the windshield. Studied it. He looked at the busted grille. Karen tensed up and held her breath . . . and then Franny walked on and entered his cruiser.
Once his car had disappeared down the road, she finally let herself take in a long, deep breath.
She glanced behind her, over at the hallway. It was empty. She reached down around her ankle and pulled up the cuff of her pant leg. She grabbed the scalpel and slipped it under the wristband of her watch. Checked to make sure it was securely in place. She pulled her shirtsleeve down to conceal it.
“He’s gone?”
She tensed up and turned around. Shane stood in the hallway, gun in hand, pointed at her.
“Yeah,” she said. “He’s gone.”
Shane walked over to the window and looked outside. He was panting heavily, his chest rising and falling with his breaths.
“Christ, I can’t believe this,” he said.
“I did everything you asked,” she said. “I promise you, I didn’t say anything to him. I don’t want him coming back here. I just want this to be over.”
Shane motioned to the hallway with his gun. “Back to the room. Let’s go.”
She walked back down the hallway, Shane behind her. She could feel the tip of the scalpel poking her skin under the watchband.
As she passed her bedroom, there was a noise: “Help.”
Amber. Her voice was low and barely there, not nearly as loud as her yell from earlier.
Shane ignored her and they entered the storage room. Teddy and Joshua were in their chairs—unharmed, thankfully. Ross was still slumped, unconscious, in the corner on the other side of the room.
Shane grabbed a few zip ties and secured her wrists to the chair armrests. She held her breath as his hands passed within an inch of the scalpel, but he didn’t see it. He secured her ankles to the chair legs.
“We are out of here,” he said to Teddy once he’d finished. “Now. No more messing around. No more—”
“Help.” Amber, again. Her voice was still weak, but it was a little louder than before.
Shane glared at the wall, then stormed out of the room, footsteps thudding down the hallway. Karen looked at Joshua.
“You’re all right?” she said. “Not harmed?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I should’ve yelled out. Screamed for help. I almost did . . . but I just couldn’t do it.”
“No,” she said. “Would’ve been too risky.”
“What now?”
“I moved the scalpel,” she said. “I think I can cut myself free.”
She twisted her wrist and looked down at it, right under her watchband.
“I need time, though,” she said. “It’s going to take a while.”
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes? Maybe longer? I don’t know. I can barely move my hands. I’ll have to cut through, little by little.”
“I’ll stall,” Teddy said. “I’ll drive slow on the way to the dealership. Give you some time. When you get free, leave with Joshua. Go to the police.”
She nodded. So that was their plan. There was a chance it might work. Teddy would leave with Shane. She would cut herself free. Cut Joshua free. And they would escape.
“Once you’re safe, send the police to the dealership,” Teddy said. “And hope, pray, they get there in time. Because this guy isn’t going to be too happy when he finds out there’s no money.”
Amber was shivering and sweating, felt cold one moment, hot the next. Everything around her was out of focus, blurry and faded, like she was looking at the room through a filter.
She croaked out a “help.” She didn’t know if anyone could hear her, but she didn’t think it’d matter if they could, anyway. The cop was gone; even with her weakening vision, she’d seen the car pull away. She’d tried to yell out to him, scream so loudly he could hear her through the walls, but it was no use, not with Shane’s hand clamped over her mouth.
She moved her hospital gown to the side and looked at her stomach wound. It was covered in blood and puss, the skin swollen and puffy.
She let the gown fall back into place and closed her eyes. Croaked out another plea for help.
She could hear voices from the other room but couldn’t understand what was being said. She couldn’t even tell who was speaking. All she knew was that it wasn’t Ross. No matter how groggy she was, she’d recognize his voice.
She hadn’t heard him in a while. There’d been the commotion earlier, that loud thud. Nothing since then. She hoped he was okay. If he wasn’t—
“Would you shut the hell up?”
Shane stood in the doorway. He walked into the room and, towering over her, looked down at her stomach. He moved his hand so it was a few inches above her wound and extended his index finger like the tip of a dagger, pointing it directly down.
She opened her mouth to tell him no but didn’t get a sound out before Shane shoved his finger directly into the wound. There was a disgusting wet moan and a paralyzing jolt of pain. She retched a few times, like she was choking, then turned her head to the side and vomited. Not much came up, mostly mucus with a little blood mixed in.
Shane pushed his finger in deeper, burying it up to the knuckle.
Black spots flashed in front of her eyes. Her stomach was on fire.
She screamed as loudly as she could, her throat burning.
Shane took his finger out of her stomach, but it brought no relief.
She retched again. Vomited. A thin strand of blood dabbled onto her chin.
Pain. Everywhere. It was like a blanket, covering her.
She tried to scream again, but she couldn’t find her voice. She lay in bed, eyes closed, jaw clenched, as she moaned and tried to ignore the pain.
Karen heard screams from the other room. A retching noise. More screams. The noise petered out to a light whimpering she could barely hear through the walls. A moment later, Shane appeared at the door and walked over to Teddy.
“So, this dealership—how far is it?” he said.
“Twenty miles. Around that.”
“How long’s it gonna take you to grab the money?”
“Not long. We’ll park outside. I’ll grab the money and bring it out to you and—”
“I’m coming in with you. You’re not going in alone.”
“Okay. Fine. The whole thing won’t take long. But I told you, we have to wait for six o’clock, until everyone has left for the day.”
“We’ll drive now. I’m getting the hell out of here.”
“Let’s wait here for a few minutes. Just to make sure everyone will be gone.”
“No, dammit. If people are still there, we’ll wait at the car place.”
Shane walked over to Joshua and cut the zip ties around his hands and feet.
“Stand up.”
Karen froze. Locked eyes with Joshua. She’d misunderstood Shane. Had to have. “Wait, what—”
“The kid’s coming, too,” Shane said. “My insurance policy. To make sure things happen like they’re supposed to.”
“No,” Teddy said. “Just you and me.”
Shane glared at Teddy. “You calling the shots now?”
“We had a plan. We—”
“Listen, I’m no fool. I don’t trust you. The kid’s coming. If I don’t have him, you’ll try something.”
“Take me instead,” Karen said. She could barely force the words out.
Shane shook his head. “No. Look, the plan don’t change. Pops grabs the money from the safe. Gives it to me. And I leave. Everything happens like that, and we’re all happy. It doesn’t happen like that, and the kid’ll pay.”
There’s no money, Karen thought. She opened her mouth to yell, plead, say something, anything, but no words came out.
Shane walked over to Teddy and cut his zip ties with his pocketknife. Teddy and Joshua walked over to the door, Shane following them with the gun pointed at their backs.
Before leaving the room, Joshua turned around and looked back at Karen. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open. He looked so helpless. So scared.
She wanted to say something, do something, somehow fix this.
Instead, all she could do was watch them leave, a scream trapped in her throat.