by Gail Dayton
Just because he reminded her a little of Eli didn't mean he had the same devotion to keeping promises.
In the distance, Marilyn heard a siren wail. Were the police looking? Did they even know she and Pete were missing?
Spotlights illuminated the bare dirt backyard where Marilyn's gold sedan had been abandoned. Uniformed police kept the curious at bay while specialists combed the car for evidence. One of them came over when Jackson approached.
"Whaddya got?" he asked.
The woman hesitated, looking at Eli and Joey hovering behind the detective.
"Oh. This is the boy's father and his--"
"Uncle," Joey interrupted, putting his hand out to shake. "I'm Pete's uncle. Marilyn is my sister."
"The missing woman?" She shook his hand, looking to Jackson for answers.
"That's right. So what have you found?"
"Very little. The car was partially wiped. We've got prints all over the driver's side, nothing on the passenger side, so we're assuming the prints are the owner's."
"Some will be mine," Eli said.
She made a note. "I've found hair, various fibers. There's no blood."
Eli went a little dizzy but remained upright. "None?"
The criminalist looked at him and gave a faint smile. "That's right, sir. None."
"I don't guess there's any way to tell how long the car's been here." Jackson propped his hands on his hips and studied the curious crowd around them.
"No more than an hour and a half." Her smile got bigger. "A neighbor called it in. Said she went out to the store and the car wasn't there. When she came back, it was. Said she heard the Amber alert on the news and called it in right away, thinking this might be the car."
"Thanks." Jackson turned to the nearest patrol sergeant. "You've been through the house?"
"Yeah. Nothing. It was boarded up pretty good. Not even signs of local kids smoking pot inside. We're checking the neighborhood, but we're a little short-handed."
"I'll see if I can pull a couple of troops from the take-down to give you a hand." Jackson got out his radio. "You'll have them after, for sure, if we don't find our guy."
"Or the kid."
"We're gonna find the kid," Jackson said. "I got a feeling."
Eli hoped Jackson's feeling meant something. His only feelings were sick fear and worry. And a little relief. Flash hadn't killed them before he got them out of the car.
Jackson turned away to use his radio, and turned back seconds later. "It's going down," he said. "I got enough time to get you to the central command point before they go in."
"Central command--that means it's close to what's happening?" Eli slid into Jackson's car.
"Yeah. To everything, all the locations. When we find them, we can get you there right away."
Joey reached from the back seat to grip Eli's shoulder. Eli put his hand over Joey's and held on tight. If he thought God would listen to him, he'd be praying. Hell, maybe he'd pray anyway. Couldn't hurt.
Marilyn had finally worked all three nails loose from one end of the board. She tucked a couple of them into her pocket and set one on the mattress beside her. She debated setting the board there, handy, but decided she really didn't want to be waiting there across the room from the stairs when Flash came back. She wanted to surprise him, attack when he wasn't looking.
She put the board under the stairs, then went to stand beneath the light bulb. She studied the rest of the shadowed room from Flash's vantage point as he entered the basement. The mattress was in one of the darkest areas. Maybe she could...
Hurrying back across the room, Marilyn picked up the icky blanket with thumb and forefinger. She lumped it up in the middle of the mattress--a long, snaky-looking lump--and went back to the light. It didn't look much like a body lying there asleep, but she could work on it. Maybe Flash was nearsighted.
Where was the best spot for her sneak attack? She'd thought under the stairs, but was it? Marilyn picked up the board and took a few practice swings. She should have joined that gym. She was in horrible shape, especially to be thinking about getting into a fight with a man, especially with one the size of Flash, and more especially with one who didn't mind hitting women.
But what else could she do? He would probably come in pissed and get even more so when he saw that Slug was gone. Should she wait around for him to get his temper up? I don't think so.
Marilyn swung the board again, trying to put the force of her whole body behind it. She went back to the light and looked. The shadows were deepest under the stairs. She could hide there while he came down, jump out and whack him over the head while he was still blinded by the light, still trying to see if anyone lay on the mattress.
She hoped Flash did come back, because the longer he stayed gone, the more she worried about just where he was and what he was doing.
Eli kept to the background at the command center, doing his best invisible impression. It had been a useful skill over a lot of years and still came in handy from time to time. If nobody noticed him, they wouldn't make him leave, the way they had Joey, who'd been banished to wait outside for making noise.
He heard the quiet acknowledgements from the teams in place, the brisk "Go," from the guy in charge, then silence. Memories bled through his mind, too fast for him to block them all. He pushed a fist into his stomach to try to ease the pain. Pete had to be okay. He had to be. Eli didn't know what he'd do, how he'd survive if he wasn't.
Jackson had joined one of the teams--many of them volunteers coming in on their days off to help find the kidnapped child. Eli found himself listening for Jackson's voice coming over the radio as teams started checking in with all clears.
"One suspect in custody," a report crackled, and Eli straightened, heart pounding, forgetting he was invisible. "Juvenile subject found. Female. Not the Court boy."
The officers in the room swore the same words echoing in Eli's head.
Two more arrests were reported, another child rescued, but still no word on Pete. Eli was wishing he hadn't tasted that coffee when the radio sputtered again.
"We found 'em! We found the boy and--"
The center erupted in cheers. The commander leaned forward and thumbed the mike as Eli headed for the door.
"Roger that. Identify your team and bring 'em back to command. I got somebody here anxious to see 'em."
"Team Four--"
Eli could hear the chagrin in the voice of the man reporting, then he was out the door and in the street to give Joey the news. "They found them. They're bringing them here."
"Thank God!" Joey caught Eli in a tight bear hug, pounding his back. Eli pounded back.
But he couldn't help wonder how soon it would change, when Joey would tell him it was time to leave.
They paced the street, impatient for the car to arrive, time dragging at a slightly quicker pace because they awaited good news, not bad. Finally, two minutes later, a car with all its lights flashing pulled onto the dark street.
The second it stopped, Pete exploded out of the back seat and charged toward Eli. "Dad! Dad!"
Eli swept his son up in his arms, hugging him tight, not bothering to fight the tears. His boy was alive. He was okay.
He was okay, wasn't he?
Eli set Pete down, squatting to his level, touching him all over, making sure. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"
"He had a knife, a great big one, and he put it on my neck." Pete demonstrated, sending fresh fear and anger rushing through Eli. "He cut it just a little." Pete lifted his chin to show a tiny scab on his neck. "It didn't bleed very much."
Then the boy went still, eyes cast down. "I was scared. I cried."
"So was I," Eli admitted. "I did too." Now, at the end. He gave Pete another tight hug and stood, looking for Marilyn.
He didn't blame her for wanting to keep her distance, but it hurt. Didn't she think he would want to know she was all right? But he didn't see her anywhere.
Joey was hugging Pete and inspecting the wound on his
neck. Marilyn wasn't there with him, as he would have expected. She wasn't at the ambulance being tended by a medic. She wasn't talking to any cop. She wasn't anywhere he could see.
"Pete." He bent beside his son again. "Where's Marilyn?"
Instantly the smile vanished from Pete's face and the fear came back. "She's here. With you. Isn't she?"
"No, Pete. She wasn't with you?" All the images Eli had comforted himself with, of Marilyn and Pete together, shattered.
Pete shook his head, looking close to tears. "Unh-uh. The man made her stop the car and told her he'd kill me if she left and he took me in this building and locked me in a room where somebody puked on the floor and there were holes in the wall and stuff, and he went back out and drove her off somewhere."
"Did he ever come back?"
"Unh-uh." He shook his head again.
Eli hugged Pete tight, grateful for that much, his stomach churning as bad or worse than before. He looked out over the crowds of police beginning to gather and spotted a grim-faced Jackson. "Stay here with Joey. I'll be back in a minute."
He worked his way through the crowd, drawing dirty looks from those who didn't know whose son they'd been hunting--most of them--until he got within shouting distance of the big detective. "Where's Marilyn? They said they found them."
Jackson swore. "We found him. We didn't find her."
The human barrier parted and let him through when Jackson and his boss beckoned.
"We didn't find Gardner either," the boss said. "Your boy reported that Gardner left with the Ballard woman--do you have any idea where he might have taken her?"
Eli shook his head. "Most of the places you hit tonight are completely new to me. I haven't been in Pittsburgh for more than a quick visit in eight years. I don't--Jackson probably has a better idea of where to look than I do."
"You said most of the places." Jackson spoke up. "But not all of them are new to you?"
"No," Eli said slowly. "There were a couple I recognized."
"So, what else do you remember? Maybe he's got her stashed in one of Fat Fred's old places. Maybe he's hiding out in one."
Eli shuddered. He couldn't dredge up all those old memories. Too many had already jumped out of their swampy graves tonight, taken on flesh. And Marilyn was out there in that vicious, crazy bastard's power. He pushed his fist hard into his gut. "Where's that map?"
"Right here." The commander spread it out on the hood of the nearest patrol car.
Eli looked back, checking on Pete. The paramedics had a blanket around him, Joey had an arm around him--he was okay.
Eli turned back to the map and let the horror out.
Marilyn sat cross-legged on the mattress, shivering as she worked on her cuticles with one of the nails she'd pried out of the board. If her three-month-old manicure hadn't been pretty much toast already, the prying would have done it in. She wasn't doing it any good now, but she had to do something. She couldn't just sit.
She'd grown cold enough to use the blanket, but she was afraid she might fall asleep if she warmed up or lay down. Sitting on the mattress was her sole concession to comfort, and only because she figured she'd have enough warning to scurry across the room to pick up the board and hide before Flash got down the stairs. She didn't want to be asleep when he came back.
He would come back. She was sure of that. He thought Slug was still here. She didn't believe all the police swarming over the area would scare him off. She'd seen the flash of red and blue lights through the basement window half a dozen times over the past few hours. She was confident that they were searching for her and Pete. Maybe they'd already found him. And Slug was out there. Surely he'd tell one of them where Pete was. Where she was. He'd promised.
Maybe they'd already caught Flash. But she wasn't counting on it.
The floor creaked overhead and Marilyn froze. Someone was in the house.
She fluffed up the blanket, trying to make it look more body-like, and rushed to the stairs as the heavy footsteps came down the hall. She hid in the shadows picking up her nail-studded board and gripped it tight. It was wide, awkward to hold, but the best weapon she had if she didn't want to get close, which she didn't. She clenched her jaw tight to keep her teeth from chattering and tried to slow her breathing.
The padlock rattled. Like somebody was using a key, not bolt cutters or a pry bar. The door burst open, flying back to slam against the door.
"Slug, you fucking little bastard, you better not be trying to climb out that fucking window again." Flash's feet thudded slowly down the stairs.
Marilyn held her breath, then decided that was stupid. She couldn't hit him at all if she was dizzy from lack of oxygen. She breathed slow and steady.
"Slug? Where the fuck are you?" Flash came off the stairs, took two steps into the room. Marilyn came out of her hiding place, swinging hard as she could.
The resounding thwack! reverberated up her arms as she hit his head, but Flash barely paused. He turned, putting his hand up to his head. No blood.
Damn. She'd hit him with the nails pointing the wrong way. Marilyn fumbled the board over, scrambling to keep him from pinning her in the corner.
"You fucking bitch!" Flash roared, charging. He raised his fist for a backhanded blow.
Marilyn put up her board as a shield. Oh, God.
Eli bent over the map on the hood of the patrol car, racking his brain for any more places Flash could have taken Marilyn, not paying much attention to the hubbub around him. The commander was sending teams out to search the places he marked and taking reports as they called in. Some of the old hellholes had been pulled down, but the cops were finding some action in the surrounding buildings.
He just wished he could remember better. So much of that time was a blur, part of it when he was messed up on speed, but mostly because he'd done his damnedest to erase it from his mind while it was happening.
A commotion out on the fringes caught his attention, distracted him. Eli swore, cupping a hand over his eyes to try to block out the noise when he heard Joey's voice raised in a shout, and he looked up.
"That's my sister's coat, you little shit!" Joey had grabbed the coat, long and dark green like Marilyn's, and was shaking the boy inside it while cops half-heartedly tried to pull him back. "Where did you get it? What did you do to her?"
Eli had already reached the scuffle, pushed his way through. "Hey!" He grabbed Joey's arm, swung him around to get his attention. "He's a kid. He's not--"
The kid tried to run. Eli let go of Joey and grabbed him, holding on tight while the kid fought to get free.
"I got 'im," he shouted, as the cops approached, handcuffs out. "Just stay back. He's not going anywhere."
Eli looked at the boy--maybe thirteen, maybe a year older or younger--at the thin, battered face, the grimy snowflake-patterned socks on his feet. "You're not running, are you?"
"Why shouldn't I?" The kid shivered inside Marilyn's coat, one bare bony knee sticking out below the last button.
"Where'd you get the coat?" Eli didn't relax his grip, knowing what the kid would do.
Sure enough, he fought harder to get free.
Eli hung on. "She gave it to you, didn't she?"
The kid went limp so suddenly Eli almost lost his grip. "Yeah," he whispered. "How'd you know?"
"'Cause I know Marilyn. She gave you the socks too, didn't she?" Eli helped the kid get his feet under him.
"Yeah." He swiped the back of his hand across his nose. "She was gonna give me her shoes, but my feet are too big." He looked at Eli then. "You know her?"
"I know her. You gonna run?" He relaxed his grip.
"You Eli Court?" The kid stayed put.
"That's right." His heart thundered so loud he could hardly hear the kid talk. He wanted to scream at him, demand to know where she was, but it would only scare the kid off. Eli let go of him, ready to grab hold again if necessary.
"She told me to find you. So she could be sure I was okay."
That sounded like Marilyn.
"What about her? Is she okay?"
The kid frowned. "Yeah. She was when--Don't you have her? I called. Like I promised. I called 9-1-1 and told them to tell Detective Jackson. I told them where Pete is and where she is and--didn't you go get her?" The kid was screaming now, spit flying from his mouth. The way Eli felt.
"Where?" He grabbed the boy's shoulder to calm him down, hold him still. "Show me where."
"It's not that far." The kid turned and ran, crashing through the circle of watchers, Eli right behind him.
The street full of cops erupted into noise and motion behind them, but Eli barely noticed as he dashed into the night.
Marilyn blocked the first blow with the board. Sort of. Her head still rang with the force of his glancing fist. Flash bellowed. He grabbed the board, wrenched it out of her hands and threw it across the room. Blood trickled down over his hand. She'd caught his arm with one of the nails.
Nails. She'd lost the board but she had nails in her pocket. Scrambling backwards in a desperate attempt to stay out of his reach, Marilyn shoved her hand in her pocket, groping for a nail. She pulled it out just as Flash slapped her, open-handed. It spun her around and knocked her to her knees on the concrete floor. The nail went skittering across the room.
On hands and knees she scooted after it, trying to keep one eye on Flash. He kicked her in the side. She grabbed his foot and yanked up, hard as she could. He didn't fall, but he staggered back, giving her space to stand, gasping at the pain in her knees and side and head and face.
Marilyn staggered forward, dizzy, blinking to see through the tears. She was turned around. Where were the stairs? There. To the left. She took a step and screamed.
Flash had grabbed a fistful of her hair and was yanking on it, hauling her backward. He jerked her back hard against him, slamming an arm around her waist. "You think you can fucking fight me, bitch?"
He let go of her hair, obviously to get his knife out, because seconds later, the sharp tip scraped down the length of her throat. "You think you can beat me, you stupid whore?"