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“The police say that there’s a big storm up there. That power and cell signals are down, roads impassable. But they’ll try to get someone to them.”
“I’ll get up there,” he said. “I promise.”
She looked at him uncertainly, then seemed to reach some internal decision to trust him—but not enough to open the door.
“What’s your number?” she said. “I’ll text you the address.”
He gave it to her and when her message came through, he texted her back with his full name and home address, so that she could trust him, so that she could reach him.
She didn’t say anything as he walked away, just looked at him worriedly. Somewhere he heard a child crying and the woman went up the stairs.
In the car, he plugged the address into his GPS. It was a long drive, so he gunned it out of the quiet neighborhood, praying that he wasn’t too late.
43
Hannah
Time seemed to slow and Hannah focused on her breathing.
The room expanded, and everyone collected in the darkened room seemed like players on a stage. She felt above and removed, shock and disbelief pulling the moment long, making it strange. Stranger than it already was.
Trina and Josh stood at the door; the tall woman was holding a gun. Joshua looked frightened and unsure, shifting from foot to foot, eyes darting back and forth between Trina and Cricket.
Bruce had placed his body between Hannah, Cricket, and the intruders. Outside the storm raged, lightning casting the wet world in a white glow every few minutes, thunder answering.
Hannah clutched the knife.
Mako knelt on the floor, a motionless Liza in his arms.
Liza—was she dying before their eyes? All that blood, was it too late? She’d slowed the bleeding, and Liza’s pulse was stronger. But maybe they wouldn’t be able to save her.
Hannah felt her heart in her chest, her throat had turned to sandpaper with fear.
One question only in her mind now: How are we going to get out of here and back to our daughter?
She thought of her little baby peacefully sleeping.Please, she prayed.Please, God.
Hannah felt her mind clear, her focus turn to a laser. She had always been good at that, boiling the moment down to its essence. What needed to be done.
This woman.
She wanted something.
What was it? Probably money and that was easy enough. But no, she could see the anger on the other woman’s face, her hatred. She knew the look—a woman who had been wronged and was out of choices on how to get even. All women knew that look—when you’d been hurt, dismissed, had something taken from you, but were powerless to bring any justice. Stronger forces knocked you over, made you feel small and helpless. In that space, maybe you did a wrong thing to make yourself feel stronger. That was it, right? Mako had harassed her, or worse. When she complained, he fired her. Hannah could fix this.
“Trina,” she said, keeping her voice level and soft. “Why are you here? What did my brother do to you?”
Because that’s what it was, right? Another one of Mickey’s messes. Had he wronged her? Raped her? Hurt her?
“You were supposed to tie them up,” Trina said, obviously talking to Joshua but looking at Hannah. The other woman’s eyes were dark and cool. They wereMickey’seyes.
In fact, how had she not noticed it before—all the times she’d seen the other woman at Red World, company picnics, parties.
Trina lookeda lotlike Mickey. And so did Josh. The cylinders locked into place.
That was it.
“Brother,” she said. Trina looked at her and smiled.
