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“Yes. I am. Though I've only met her once that I can remember.” Dominoes started to fall into place. Her sister was staring at her. He wanted her mother. “What does that have to do with tonight, with what you want?”
“I...think maybe I should answer,” a voice so like Daisy's said. Dusty turned her head.
There. Coming from the entrance by the side restrooms...was her mother.With an odd sort of determination and dignity around her.
No sign of her husband anywhere.That was…surprising. He’d barely let her mother use the wet bath without him in that travel trailer. But there she was. Dusty wasn’t stupid. Her father was around here somewhere.
“Hello, Jason. I think it's me you really want to kill, isn't it? Not one of my daughters.”
“Mom!Get out of here. What are you doing here?” Dusty’s littlesisterasked, panic on her face. “Get out of here. Now.”
“Your father and I tracked your cell phone, young lady. Did you and your sisters really think we didn't know about them?” Geena Talley asked. She was shaking. She looked frail. Broken. Terrified. But determined. “Where are Dylan, Dahlia and Dorie?”
“I don't know. This man and another...took me out of the car. He shot at them, Mom. And...” The girl sounded just like Daisy.
Dusty was really trying not to freak at that.
The gunman yanked the girl closer. “Well, well. I knew it would work. Iknewyou'd finally come out of hiding if I had one of these little bitches. Which one will it be—older daughter or younger daughter?”
He turned the gun. Toward Dusty. Just as the kitchen door swung open.
Dusty saw her sister there. And Meyra. “Get back in the kitchen, Daisy! Right now!”
Daisy didn't hesitate. She grabbed Meyra and pulled her out of the doorway. As he fired.
He took a step in that direction. Toward Daisy.
“Don't bother,” Dusty told him quickly, shifting into his path. No. He wasn’t going afterDaisy. “There is an emergency exit right there by that door. They are already outside. Already calling the police. Say what you want to say. Then you'd better run. You don't have much time to get out of here.”
Then Ben was there. His hands went around her waist. He almostyankedher behind him. Putting that strong body right in front of her. Protecting her. Again.
Like she knew he always would.
59
No one even saw her.Dylan took it for the gift that it was. The two girls had run out of the kitchen, to the outside. They’d run right by her, but they hadn’t seen her, either. She'd seen the fear on their faces when the gunshot had sounded. Dylan looked down.
Her arm was bleeding, and ithurt.But she would live. At least for now. She had to find a way to help her sister.
She'd seen Devaney in the open kitchen door. Seen the man with a gun to her head like that. Dylan fought nausea. Fear.
There was an eighteen-inch opening at the bottom of the kitchen door.
Dylan crept to it carefully. If he shot toward the kitchen again, she'd probably be toast.
But she had to do something. She'd seen her sister. And she'd heard her mother's voice. And sheknew.Her family was in trouble.
It had always beenherjob to take care of them whenever her dad couldn’t.
Someone had to do something. Somehow.
The kitchen door was one of those swinging kinds. Dylan stayed on her belly on the kitchen floor, scooting closer to the door, until she could see better.
There was a buffet table right there. Built into the floor.
If she slithered just right, and stayed quiet, she could get into the dining room.
Dosomething.Somehow.
