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Sunday morning. Everything would be closed. Church would fill the time until they could make another move on the two investigations. And even if he didn’t get anything else out of it, Deborah would be there. No one had to know his true motivation.
Well, almost no one. God would know. Alex shrugged off the thought. God might know, but did He care?
Alex put the Altima in gear and let it rip, hoping to leave that haunting question far behind in a cloud of exhaust fumes and bitter memories.
Chapter Ten
Benny uncurled his body and tried to stretch his arms over his head. He couldn’t. They were tied in front of him. Confused for a second, he struggled to open his eyes. He looked around, trying to remember where he was. The memories pelted him. He smothered a sob. The night, full of strange sounds and ugly dreams, had finally passed. The couch in the man’s house smelled like cat pee and cigarette smoke. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
He sat up. The muscles in his arms and legs scream in pain. He took little breaths so he wouldn’t cry. He was hungry. He missed Mr. Daniel and Marco and Marco’s dog, Taxi. Mr. Daniel said someday, when they knew for sure where he’d be living, he could have a dog. If he ever got back to Mr. Daniel’s, he was getting one. A big one that could scare away the bad guys. But first he had to get out of here. Somehow, he had to escape and get back to Mr. Daniel.
Benny peered around the room. No man. He was probably still sleeping. Benny’s mom used to sleep a lot after she drank a bunch of drinks from the big bottle. Now would be a good time to get away. If the man was like Mom he wouldn’t hear nothing. He’d sleep for hours and then get up real mean.
His dad. Benny shuddered. Could that guy really his dad? His mom had never told him anything about his dad. Sometimes Benny imagined what he was like. The dad in his head didn’t look nothing like this guy. He looked more like Marco’s Uncle Joaquin. Big and tough, but nice. The good guy who protected the kid from the bad guys. This man was the bad guy.
He wiggled his hands. They moved a little inside the rope. The man hadn’t done a very good job of tying them. He had been laughing the whole time, his breath making Benny gag. As the memory flooded him, he struggled to his feet. He had to get away.
He took two steps forward, holding his breath. He stopped, listened. Only the tick of a clock on the wall broke the silence.
Daniel had said praying was talking to God. God could hear him, even if Benny couldn’t see him. Was God looking at him now? If He was, why didn’t He help?God, I need some help, if You have time. Okay?There. He’d talked to God. Now he had to get out.
Slowly, he tiptoed to the front door. Just be quiet. Just be quiet. No creaking floor. No coughing. Not even breathing. He grabbed the doorknob, turned, and yanked.
Nothing.
He tried again. The door didn’t budge.
Biting his lip to keep from crying, he studied the door. It had bolts on it. Deadbolts, like the one his mom used to keep the bad guys out. Only now, it kept Benny and the bad guy in. It should have a key. Where were the keys? Benny looked around. The man probably had them.
He wanted to cry so bad. Fear made his legs shake. The guy was going to wake up and see him. He would throw him back in the closet. Or maybe he’d just cut him with the knife. Or shoot him with the gun he kept in his waistband.
Back door. Yeah, there had to be a back door.
Benny crept to the kitchen. Their dirty paper plates still sat on the table and the mustard bottle lay on its side on the counter next to an overflowing ashtray. Benny tried not to inhale the gross smell. There was a little porch off to the right, where the washing machine and the dryer sat. He opened the screen door with both hands and saw the back door past the machines. Maybe the man had forgotten to lock it.
Benny rushed forward, careful not to let the screen door slam behind him. A bubble of relief wafted through him. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. If he could get out, he could find someone to untie his hands. He could ask directions. He’d find a taxicab, make the driver take him home. He would see Mr. Daniel again.
He pushed through the back door and felt the sun warm on his face. He’d made it.
His foot touched the last step.
Fingers squeezed his shoulder until the bone and muscle pinched in pain.
* * *
The sun had crept up by the time Daniel and Cooper arrived at the women’s prison complex in Gatesville. John Katz, the narcotics detective who had originally arrested Shawna Garza, had snoozed in the backseat for most of the three-hour drive. He didn’t seem too interested in the details of the case. Shawna Garza was small potatoes. They wanted her supplier. She wouldn’t give him up and had gone to prison instead.
Daniel didn’t care what Katz thought. Shawna Garza was the key to getting Benny back, and he intended to rattle her cage until she gave him the information they needed.
After Cooper parked the Explorer, Daniel shoved open the door and pulled himself out. This would’ve been a good morning to be in church with his kids. Not standing in front of a prison. He swallowed the sour taste in the back of his throat. He had to do this for Benny. Piper and Samuel were picking the kids up and taking them to church. Next Sunday, they’d all go together, including Benny.
The sun already seemed harsh, but Daniel shivered as they started across the parking lot. The ibuprofen he had taken well before dawn was starting to wear off. Detective Cooper’s cell phone rang, a strident sound in an otherwise still morning.
“Detective Cooper. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. We’re standing outside your facility right at this very moment, ma’am. Maybe we best come on in and talk about what happened.”
Cooper didn’t look happy. A chill shook Daniel. “What is it?”
“Miss Garza was found dead in the bathroom. Shanked. Bled out.”
