Todd grinned.
‘Maybe rough her up a bit first?’
Mason grinned back.
‘Let junior have his fun, perhaps. Who knows, we’ll think of something to get his attention.’
Todd walked over to Gina and pulled her up by the arm.
‘Up you get, plan B. You can take over from mommy trying to keep daddy alive. She’s going outside to get some fresh air.’
Gina took over from Linda, managing to persuade her not to struggle or fight until she had hold of the blood-soaked napkins pressed to Scott’s wound. After that she fought and kicked like hell. Gina wanted to tell her not to bother, they were going to do what they wanted to do come what may. All she was doing was giving them a reason to manhandle her, to grab hold of parts of her through the thin nightdress that weren’t strictly necessary to subdue her. But she wasn’t the one about to be thrown outside as good as naked.
They found some kitchen twine and bound her wrists and ankles, then frog-marched her over to the door, holding her high so her toes dragged along the floor. Mason pulled the door open—just the draft blowing in sent a chill through them all—and Todd gave her a shove. She stumbled and landed hard on her side.
Todd leaned out the door and yelled, ‘Hey kid, mommy’s here. Come to mo-meeee.’
Chapter 11
EVAN STARED AT EMILY’S motionless body lying on the ground and felt a hot pricking at the back of his eyes. She was curled almost into a fetal position, her left leg drawn up tight under her, right leg extended. Her hands were clamped over her ears, as if she could make it all go away by refusing to listen to it. Evan had tried that trick and it didn’t work.
Something was wrong. Not wrong as in bad, but wrong as in it didn’t make sense.
There wasn’t any blood. Not on her body, not on the snow.
He hunkered down and touched her outstretched leg.
She jerked, pulled her leg in and sat up, all in one movement. Then she screamed—screamed louder than he’d ever heard a person of any age or size scream. He fell backwards with the shock and landed on his back, staring up through the bare trees to the clear blue sky above.
His vision was suddenly interrupted by her face looking down on him—like she’d been playing in the woods and had come across this strange species of bug. And was considering whether to squash it or not.
Seemed he passed muster. She held out her small hand to him. He took it, glad to feel real flesh and blood in his. He pushed himself to his feet, then led her down through the trees towards the boathouse. With any luck it would be unlocked and would provide some shelter.
She trotted behind him, happily chattering away in that voice small children reserve for stupid grown-ups. She told him what happened like worse things took place every day at school, so why was he looking like his dog just died? She’d screamed when she thought somebody was shooting at her because that’s what everyone did on the TV. Then her foot went down a smelly rabbit hole. She very nearly lost one of her new shoes. And because of that, she went head first into the prickly bushes. Ow! That was when she decided to keep her head down and her ears covered. She just forgot to pull her leg in, that was all.
They passed the guy hugging the tree, fully conscious now. At first, he only saw Evan, didn’t see or hear Emily behind him. He tensed, every muscle and sinew taut, shaking his head in denial. He strained against the belt around his wrists, oblivious to the pain, throwing his body from one side to the other.
‘No—’
Then Emily came into view. Evan didn’t think he’d ever seen such a look of relief on a person’s face. His whole body sagged, his forehead resting on the tree.
‘Thank God,’ he whispered as they went by.
Amen to that.
They carried on down towards the boathouse, Emily’s head permanently twisted to look back at the bad man tied to the tree. Evan stopped halfway and hunkered down next to her. She was shivering uncontrollably, despite the thick sweater she had on. He had to do something now. He pulled his sweat top off and pulled it over her head. It came down to her knees, her hands lost half way up the arms. It was better like that as she didn’t have any gloves. He rubbed her up and down vigorously, then pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her.
‘Better?’
She shook her head. There was nothing more he could do until he knew what was going on.
‘How many men are there?’
‘Four,’ she said.
‘Have they all got guns?’
She nodded, her eyes wide.
‘One of them has a shotgun.’
‘Who else is in there?’
Her face twisted into a small scowl.
‘The man who doesn’t like me.’
He frowned.
‘Because I was running and jumping off the stairs.’
He smiled. Luca.
‘Daddy said he was a miserable . . . I don’t remember and—’
‘Anyone else?’
‘The cook. And a lady.’
‘Long, auburn hair down to here?’
He put his hand flat and level with her shoulder.
She nodded.
Gina. That was everybody accounted for apart from her mother. Best not to ask about her for the moment. It didn’t make a lot of difference anyway if she was still tucked up in bed or hauled downstairs with the rest of them. He was pretty sure Emily hadn’t seen them shoot Scott either. Ignorance was definitely bliss, especially when you’re only seven.
‘I bumped into her legs and knocked her into the kitchen. It hurt my nose.’
He realized she was still talking about Gina.
‘What happened next?’
‘Everyone was shouting. Then there was a big fight.’ She suddenly giggled. ‘The cook squashed one of them in the fridge.’
Funny as it might be to a child, it didn’t sound to him like an effective move against four armed men.
‘That’s when I ran away. The lady told me to run.’
‘Her name’s Gina.’
Emily nodded. She was still shaking despite the additional layers. He was chilling rapidly himself. He pulled her into his body again. Over her shoulder he saw the back door open and a woman wearing only a nightdress was thrown out. Her wrists and ankles were bound. She stumbled and hit the ground hard.
Then a man’s head poked out the door and shouted, ‘Hey kid, mommy’s here. Come to mo-meeee.’
Emily twisted out of his arms and turned towards the voice. For a moment she stood stock-still, staring in open-mouthed horror at the woman struggling on the ground.
A pitiful wail shattered the still air.
‘Mommy!’
He clamped his arms around her small shoulders and held her tight.
‘Mommy.’
What the hell should he do?
They wanted her to run to her mother, obviously.
Then what?
For him to follow her.
Then the door would burst open and they’d all jump out and start firing, a hailstorm of bullets, not caring whether they hit Emily and her mother, just so long as they got him. That wouldn’t do anybody any good.
The door was a big, solid oak affair, he’d never kick it in, take them by storm. Even if one guy could storm three in the first place.
And if he managed to sneak up without them noticing, what then?
He couldn’t very well put Emily and her mother over his shoulder and run off into the woods with them. If he did that he’d have two of them to worry about, two of them freezing, one of them half naked.
But he had to do something with Emily. If he let her go to her mother, she wouldn’t be a hindrance to him. He’d be free to do whatever he needed to do.
In the end it wasn’t his choice.
Emily bit the back of his hand. He flinched, more in surprise than pain, but it gave her the space she needed. She ducked out of his arms and took off towards the back of the lodge.
It would be suicide to go after her, she might even get caught in the cross
fire, especially if the guy opened up with the sawed-off.
Emily reached her mother, who lifted her bound arms and took her child inside them, hugged her tight, rocking back and forth as she sat in the wet snow.
Feeling like something unpleasant on the bottom of somebody’s shoe, Evan retreated further into the trees, Emily’s sobs fading into the distance. Even with her gone, he’d check out the boat house. There was sure to be something useful in there. He had the guy’s gun now, but that was a last resort. He needed to keep the element of surprise on his side, not advertise his position by shooting somebody.
Without Emily to slow him down, it only took a couple minutes to get there. It looked to be a hundred years old at least, a two-storey design with a second-floor veranda overlooking the lake. He looked wistfully at the veranda, his mouth suddenly dry. He could picture himself sitting up there with a cold beer as the sun went down, everything in the world unfolding as it should.
Just not today.
The boat house was solidly built with a big old door. His shoulder throbbed just at the thought of trying to break it down. He tried it and was pleasantly surprised for once. It was unlocked. Inside, three old-fashioned wooden rowing boats had been pulled up out of the water and stacked upside-down on one side of the room. Racks on the wall held a selection of wooden oars of varying lengths. He lifted one down, felt the weight. It would be perfect for a fight in the middle of the lawn against somebody who didn’t see you coming so you could get a good swing—you could knock their head into the next ZIP code with it.
The thing was, he didn’t plan on spending any time in the middle of the lawn if he could help it, making it easy for them, asking to get shot like Scott. His only chance was in the woods. In the tight confines of the trees, it would be far too long and unwieldy.
He put it back on the rack and hunted around for something more appropriate, something he knew must be in here somewhere. There was a scarred workbench with a vise against one wall for carrying out small repairs. In the cabinet underneath, he found a selection of hand tools—hammers, chisels, that sort of thing. He left them there. It wasn’t what he was after.
He found it in a cupboard full of bright orange lifesavers and fishing gear—a galvanized-iron folding anchor. He picked it up and hefted it, reckoned it weighed about five pounds. It was tied to twenty or thirty feet of black, marine-grade rope. He slid the collar up the shaft and folded down the four pointed flukes, then pushed the collar back down to lock them in place.
Gripping the rope two feet from the anchor, he tried it out, swinging it in a circle above his head. It made him feel like a medieval foot soldier about to take on King Arthur with his ball and chain. It was better than nothing—the pointed flukes were designed to catch the stony bottom of a lake or river, but they’d be perfect for snagging a man’s head or neck.
Things felt a little more even as he headed back up through the trees towards the hotel, swinging the anchor by the side of his leg.
Chapter 12
‘HE’S NOT COMING FOR them,’ Mason said, peering out the window.
‘Seems your boyfriend isn’t such a hero, after all,’ Todd said to Gina, giving her a supercilious smile. ‘He’s gonna let a woman and her kid freeze to death in the snow. Nice.’
There wasn’t any point saying the only reason they were out there was because of him.
‘He’s not stupid,’ Gina said instead. ‘Did you really think he’d come running up the hill while you blasted away at him? You might as well let them back in. It’s not going to work.’
‘I need to pee,’ a small, shrill voice said from the other side of the room.
It was the liquor store clerk. She hadn’t said a word up to now. They’d all forgotten about her.
‘Go in the sink,’ Todd said. ‘Or your panties, I don’t care.’
‘I’ll take her,’ Sonny said.
Todd’s head spun around. He grinned.
‘You little pervert. I suppose you’ll tell her to keep the door open so you can make sure she doesn’t run away. Or so you can watch.’
‘Whatever. There’s nothing happening here. We won’t be long.’
Todd shrugged.
‘Make sure you’re not.’
The girl shuffled across the room, head down. Sonny fell in beside her and they went out through the double doors into the dining room.
A loud hammering started up on the back door. Muffled shouts came through the thick wooden door.
‘Are you going to let them back in?’ Gina said.
‘Not at the moment, no,’ Todd said. ‘While she’s out there, it keeps you busy, stops you causing more trouble. Maybe you should think twice before you try anything stupid again. All this is your fault.’
‘They’ll freeze out there.’
The pounding on the door intensified.
‘Not while she’s working up a sweat like that, she won’t.’
‘And what about Emily? She’s seven years old for Christ’s sake. I wouldn’t want to be you when you get caught and you’re in jail and everybody knows you’re the guy who let a little girl freeze to death.’
‘We’re not going to get caught.’
‘Really. They’ve got Sonny’s name already—’
The double doors opened and Sonny stuck his head in as if he’d heard his name taken in vain. He was alone.
‘Where’s the girl?’ Todd shouted.
‘Just come out here.’
A surge of something, not exactly hope, went through Gina. It looked like the girl had gotten free somehow. The more of them on the outside, the less the gang could control the situation. They’d be more jumpy, more likely to make mistakes.
‘You fucking idiot,’ Todd yelled as he pushed his way through the doors.
***
TODD BURST THROUGH THE double doors and stared at the girl sitting at one of the tables.
‘What the—’
Sonny put his finger to his lips, his eyes excited.
‘I’ve got an idea.’
‘What is she doing just sitting there?’ Todd demanded, not interested in any idea hatched in Sonny’s addled brain.
‘She’s with me.’
That stopped Todd in his tracks.
‘Well, not exactly with me. I met her in a bar. We had a few drinks and . . . some other stuff . . . and she was the one who told me how much cash they got in that store.’
Todd shook his head in disbelief.
‘Right. She just came out and said, hey, guess how much cash we keep in the store?’
‘No. We were talking and she was bitching about her boss, the guy—’
‘The guy you shot?’
‘Yeah him. About how he was always pinching her butt and eyeballing her tits—’
‘And saying disgusting things to me,’ the girl called. ‘Fucking perv.’
‘Shush!’ Sonny put his fingers to his lips again. ‘You’re supposed to have escaped.’
‘Whatever.’
She went back to chewing her thumbnail.
Sonny turned to Todd.
‘So she was saying how it’d serve the old pervert right if the store got held up and he lost his job—’
‘And got himself killed too?’
Sonny gave an angry head shake.
‘No, of course not. She’s not like that. She’s a nice girl.’
Todd laughed to himself. I bet she couldn’t tell you what the inside of a church looks like.
‘And you thought it’d be a good idea to bring her along when it all went tits up.’
‘Yeah. We thought—’
‘Okay, okay, it doesn’t matter what you thought back then.’
He glanced over at the girl. Looked to him like she was having second thoughts about trading a store manager with wandering hands for a complete fuck-up like Sonny. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly.
‘Tell me about this idea.’
Sonny grinned.
‘We let her go and she wanders around outside. Makes plen
ty of noise, that sort of thing. The guy outside finds her and he thinks she’s a hostage who escaped, so he’s not suspicious.’
‘And?’
‘Let me finish. And . . . ’
It seemed to Todd that the plan hadn’t been thought through all the way. But Sonny surprised him.
‘And she tries to get Loyd’s gun off him, because we have to assume that’s what happened—’
‘Yeah, she really looks like she’d be able to wrestle the gun off a full-grown man. She must weigh all of a hundred, maybe a hundred and ten pounds wringing wet.’
‘No, listen. Maybe she pretends to be cold—’
‘She won’t have to pretend.’
‘—and he stuffs his gun down the back of his pants and hugs her to warm her up. Being the Knight in Shining Fucking Armor, an’ all.’
‘I suppose there’s a chance.’
‘Or, if that’s not gonna happen, she tells him some story about how we’re all raping his girlfriend and whatever else and gets him so riled up he comes charging in here, even if he wouldn’t come after the woman and her kid.’
Todd had to admit that for the first time in his life he was impressed. For once he wasn’t actually ashamed the kid was his cousin.
‘You know, that might actually work.’ He turned towards the girl. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Rachel.’
‘You think you can pull it off.’
She gave a non-committal shrug.
‘Why not?’
‘How you going to say you escaped?’
She shrugged again.
‘I’ll think of something.’
That wasn’t good enough. They needed to get it straight first. She looked like she was a bit flaky—and he wasn’t happy about the reference to her sharing some other stuff with Sonny. So he gave it some thought, told her what to say and they let her out the front door.
Chapter 13
EVAN HAD TO DO something and fast. They weren’t letting Emily and her mother back inside. They’d get hypothermia if they didn’t let them in soon.
Should he give himself up? Approach the lodge in full view with his hands above his head. They’d take all three of them inside, satisfied they had the situation under control while they sat it out.
The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets) Page 94