“It’s okay, baby. Look at me, Mia.” Pippa squatted in front of her daughter, getting as close as she dared. “It’ll be okay.”
“That’s right, little girl. Everything’s gonna be fine, as long as your mommy cooperates.” Dewey glanced at Mason as the child started to inch away, toward the back door. He eyed the boy critically. “Where the fuck do you think you’re goin’? You gonna run to the neighbor to get help?”
Mason shook his head, eyes wide as saucers.
“You’re a brave little shit, aren’t you? My boy used to be like that too. ’Til his momma turned him into a sissy-pants. Don’t let your momma do that to you, ya hear?”
Mason didn’t respond and Dewey raised the gun clenched in his fist, as if he planned to strike the boy.
“No!” Pippa called out, shooting to her feet when Mason flinched. “What do you want?”
“I got a problem, and you’re gonna help me solve it,” Dewey sneered. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen and get comfortable. I’ll tell ya all about it.” He jerked his gun hand toward the back of the house. “You first.”
Fear knotting her stomach, Pippa sent what she hoped counted as a reassuring look to Mia. Skirting around Dewey to take Mason’s hand, she backed toward the kitchen. The breakfast she’d eaten less than an hour ago roiled angrily in her stomach. She kept Dewey, his gun and her daughter in her sights as she walked, terrified of what crazy thing Dewey might do if she took her eyes off him.
“Everybody take a seat.”
Dewey pushed Mia away from him, into Pippa’s arms, and reached into the pocket of his green and brown jacket. Pip grabbed both of her children and shoved them behind her, holding on to their shoulders. They clutched each other and the back of her skirt while Mason shushed his sister. Dewey drew a roll of duct tape from his pocket and tossed it on the table. He brandished the gun at Pippa and said, “Not you, mom. I need you to tie the kids up. I wouldn’t want anyone gettin’ away.”
“You want me to use duct tape on them?”
“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”
“It will hurt their skin.”
“Boo-fuckin’-hoo,” he said, waving the gun at her. “Just do it.”
“Can I at least wrap towels around their wrists? Please?”
“Jesus H. Christ!” He blew an exasperated breath out and lowered the gun to his side. “Fine, but make it snappy.”
A small sigh escaped her lips as she motioned the kids into the chairs and walked to the drawer next to the sink to grab the dishrags. She frantically eyed the breakfast dishes she’d left on the counter, searching for anything useful. Spying a small paring knife, she palmed the six-inch tool and folded it up in with the towels. In a fight against a gun, it was hopeless, but it might be the only prayer they had to escape if opportunity presented itself
She walked back to where her children were seated under Dewey’s angry eyes, and knelt in front of them. They’d pulled their chairs closely together sitting side-by-side, crying quietly.
“I’m so sorry.” Mia moaned as Pippa gently pulled the child’s hands together in front of her and wrapped her wrists first in the towel, then started winding the tape around the fabric.
“Shh, sweetie. We’ll be okay. Can you be brave for a little while?” Pippa blinked scalding tears away. Seeing her cry wouldn’t help keep the kids calm. Gorge rose in her throat like hot lava as she bound her daughter’s wrists together.
“Make sure it’s tight, bitch.” Dewey ordered.
She ignored the command and focused on calming her daughter’s fears. Before moving over to bind Mason, she kissed Mia’s tears away, smiling tremulously, hoping to convey her confidence that they’d get through this. Then she scooted over to Mason, who’d already put his hands together.
Her heart cracked and her spirit faltered when her son thrust out his hands, waiting bravely for her to tie him up. Swallowing the huge choking lump in her throat, she squinted hard against pinching tightness around her eyes. Breaking down now wouldn’t do anything but scare her children. She had to hold it together to help Mason see her hastily formed plan.
His mouth widened into a shocked O as she scratched his wrist surreptitiously, drawing his attention to where she thumbed back a corner of the towel, revealing the plastic handle of the knife she’d hidden. When his eyes lifted, she forced her thoughts into her expression. If he had a chance, he should use the knife to cut away their bindings and run. She prayed that he understood what she couldn’t say to him aloud. This might be their only chance.
Mason nodded somberly at her. “It’s okay, Mommy. The bad man said you have to tie me up,” he said, shooting a venomous stare at Dewey.
She proceeded to wrap his wrists in the towel, the knife secreted on the bottom. His small fingers grasped one end of the towel to help hold the tiny weapon in place, without Dewey seeing. Pippa’s tears dried up. Her brave young son just might have figured that this small act of defiance gave them a fighting chance.
Dewey’s boots scraped across the floor just before his meaty hand wrapped around her bicep and roughly hauled her upright. Pippa shrank away from the vicious scowl creasing his heavy brow and stumbled when he pushed her backward into the chair. Bracing one hand on the table and the other on her shoulder, he bent low to growl in her ear, his fetid breath assaulting her senses. “Enough sentimentality, bitch. We got business to discuss.”
Bile rose in her throat, but she forced it back, leaning away from the rancid odor coming off him. Her soul froze along with the rest of her body when Dewey stroked the cold hard barrel of the gun up her cheek, rested it just under her eye.
“Please, don’t hurt us. Just tell me what you want and leave us alone.”
“Oh, I like ’em scared. I thought you’d be a bit tougher, but I guess no woman alive wants to see their kids threatened.” Dewey increased the pressure of the gun against her face, before releasing a harsh laugh and swinging around to wave the gun toward the twins.
Mia whimpered and Mason glared at their captor, his lips thin, eyes squinting. The raw emotion on his face startled Pippa, more anger than fright.
Dewey noticed too. “A little fighter, huh?”
“Mason, sweetie, don’t worry. See if you can help calm Mia down while, er… Mr. Evans tells me what he wants. Can you do that? Please?”
After a final scowl toward Dewey, Mason blinked hard and twisted in his chair to face his sister, laid his bound hands across hers and leaned forward to whisper softly in Mia’s ear. Mia laid her head on Mason’s shoulder, her face turned away from the frightening man with the large gun.
Pippa’s knees shook like autumn leaves clinging to a tree in a rainstorm. She willed the trembling of her fingers to stop as she laid them on the table in front of her. Forcing calm she didn’t feel into her tone, she said, “Just tell me what you want. Is this about Liberty Battalion?”
He leaned against the counter, his tree-trunk sized legs spread wide, his posture deceptively relaxed. “Bah! It ain’t about those piss-ants. Don’t get me wrong…their cause is right and just. But I got a different story to tell. And you’re going to help me write the ending.” He shoved the gun into the waistband of his jeans and crossed his arms over his bulky middle. “I believe you know my son, Daniel.”
Wracking her brain, she drew a blank. “I’m sorry, I don’t know any Daniel Evans.”
“Aaaiit.” He made a buzzer-like sound. “His bitch mama wouldn’t put my name on the birth certificate, like I wanted. His name is Daniel Robards.”
She sensed a great big lightning flash over her head and her heart plummeted toward her stomach. Sweet God in heaven, this was the abusive man who’d been communicating with his son. He’d been under the nose of the Granite Pointe police force the entire time, breaking the terms of the restraining order against him.
“You’re Daniel’s father?”
“That’s a fact. And that boy don’t belong in no juvie lock-up. He just needs to spend time with his old pop. I’ll straighten him
up.”
“But he’s doing so much better lately. He’s learning to get along, to be part of a community. He—”
Dewey leapt forward, banging his hands flat on the table. Alarmed, she reared away from him, slamming against the ladder-back of the chair. He moved fast for a big man. He shook his finger in her face. “He don’t need to be part of a community. I’m plannin’ to teach the bellyaching little shit discipline, to be a leader. No one can show him better than me. I mean to take him away from Woodward and start his lessons today.”
“But, he’s confined there by court order. You’ll never be able to get him out.”
“Yeah, see, that’s where you come in. You’re going to help me bust him out.”
“No I’m not.”
Pulling the gun from his belt, he waved it at the kids. “Oh, I think you are.”
“Even if I had keys, I don’t have the authority to set him free.”
“You have a reason. You need him to help you at Roberto Eleni’s funeral as part of a teen choir that’s singing for it.”
“There isn’t any choir at the service.”
“Shit, lady, I know that, but do you think those nine-dollars-an-hour security guards are going to know that? Hell no! They’ll take your word for it, because the funeral is all anyone in the little burg can talk about. What a nice thing for the widow, to be serenaded by teens for peace.”
“But—”
“We’re done with the but portion of the program. You’re going to figure out a way to make this work, or I won’t be the only one missing a kid.”
Breath evacuated her lungs, sucked out by his menacing smile and the cold flatness of his voice. She darted a frantic look at her kids, forcefully shaking off the wave of dizziness and fear that had consumed her when he’d made his threat.
“So, what’s it going to be?” he asked.
Opening her mouth to respond, she couldn’t make any words come out. The silence in the room was accented by the ticking of the clock over the sink and the deadly-sounding snick of Dewey thumbing the safety off on the gun.
The sudden shrill tone of the doorbell made her jump, then squeal as she found the herself staring into the black little hole punctuating the barrel of Dewey’s gun.
24
“You expectin’ someone?” Dewy demanded.
Oh, God. It was Clay. Here to pick them up. Remembering how Dewey had threatened Clay at the cemetery, knowing bad blood existed between the two men escalated her panic, made her pulse race even faster than the sight of Dewey’s gun had. She doubted Clay would go away if she ignored the bell. He’d just come around to the back door. She flinched as Dewey worked the slide on the Sig Sauer, the ominous noise crackling along her nerve endings.
Think, Pippa, think!
“It’s probably just the neighbor boy. I told him I’d pay him to rake leaves this weekend.”
“Well, let’s just go see.”
He yanked her to her feet and pushed her toward the front door.
“I’ll be right behind you, so don’t try anything cute. ’Cause whoever is there will be the first one I shoot, then I’ll make you watch while I put a bullet in each of your kids.”
Her world spiraled dizzily. Dear God, he’d threatened her children and clearly meant to make good on it. She swallowed hard and wrapped numb fingers around the handle, pulling the door open to reveal Clay. Oh, God, he could help them, but she wanted him to be safe. If he came in the house, she knew Dewey and his big gun would be ruthless.
“Oh, hi Clay,” she said, cringing at how weak her voice sounded. “Listen, something has come up. We’ll meet you at the church, okay?”
Clay put a hand out to stop the door from swinging shut. “What’s wrong, spitfire?”
“Nothing. I just… You should go. Please leave.”
Pushing his way through the door, Clay reached for her, making her back up.
“No, don’t. You can’t come in.”
Fear spiked, knotting her stomach painfully. She sensed Dewey moving forward, the fist clenching the gun raised. Surprise flared in Clay’s face when Dewey pressed the gun barrel to his temple. He stopped immediately, his hand still extended toward her.
“Oh, hell.”
Cackling maliciously, Dewey pressed the gun harder against Clay’s forehead, making a deep indention in his skin. “I’ll be damned. This day keeps gettin’ better. I got the widow, the twins, and now, the asshole.”
Pippa locked her knees to keep from falling to the floor and sent a look to Clay, silently pleading with him to not do anything crazy. He angled his head to the side, away from the weapon.
Other than the rapid movement of his eyes, he remained as frozen as her soul. “Are you okay? Are the kids?”
“We’re okay. Scared, but okay. So far.”
“Yeah, yeah. Everybody’s fine. Why don’t we go join the kiddos?”
He motioned toward the back of the house, then scooted around behind Clay and dug the gun in between his shoulder blades, forcing him to move forward. Pippa’s heart thawed somewhat when Clay grasped her hand as they walked down the hall.
Mason and Mia were huddled together in the kitchen, fear clearly etched on their faces.
“Jesus, Dewey. You tied up little kids?” Clay made a sound of disgust and turned angrily, stopping short when Dewey pressed the gun to his forehead.
“I made their momma do it. No sudden moves, or I’ll pull the trigger,” Dewey growled. He dug his fingers deeply into Clay’s shoulder and roughly shoved him into the chair Pippa had been sitting on. “I mean it. You, bitch, tie up lover man here. Do his legs and arms. And make it good and tight.”
She hesitated until Dewey pointed the gun toward her kids. Grabbing the tape from the table, she squatted in front of Clay, mouthed an apology at him and drew his feet together. Her hair flopped forward as she bent her head to wind the roll around his ankles. Tears she’d worked so hard to control slipped down her cheeks when he pushed her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering along her jaw. Putting one hand over his, she reluctantly pulled it toward his lap and started the process to wrap his wrists.
“Wait!” Dewey commanded.
The ugliness of his voice startled her and she lost her balance, pitching forward to her knees. Air whooshed out of her lungs when her chest rammed hard into Clay’s knee. He grabbed her shoulder to steady her.
“Tie his hands behind his back. Wouldn’t want him trying anything stupid while you’re off fetching my kid, would we?”
“I’m not going to try anything.” He put his hands behind his back and sent an encouraging look her way. “It’s okay, Pippa. Do what he says. You know I wouldn’t do anything to cause hurt to the kids.” He directed his attention toward Dewey as she stepped behind him to comply. “What’s this about, Dewey?”
“Your girlfriend is going to help me spring my kid from juvie. Then we’re going to disappear for a while.”
Pippa stiffened behind Clay when Dewey called her his girlfriend. She shot a look toward her kids. Mia’s head was down, shoulders shaking. Mason’s bright eyes swung from Clay to Pippa and back. Guess that cat is out of the bag. Not her biggest worry at the moment. She tore the tape and stood up. She leaned her hip against Clay’s shoulder and gave her son a thumbs-up.
“Why do you think Pippa’s my girlfriend?” Clay asked.
“I been keeping an eye on her. I’ve seen you two together in the middle of the afternoon. Shit, Mather’s, you practically fucked her on the front porch the other day.”
Dewey rubbed the gun suggestively across his crotch, making Pippa gag. Oh, dear God!
Clay narrowed his eyes, glaring at the man holding the deadly weapon. Pippa heard his teeth grinding together, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
“Here’s the plan,” Dewey continued after he’d finished stroking himself. “The widow is going to leave you three here with me and go get my kid out of Woodward. When she comes back with him, we’ll get outta your hair…no harm, no foul. Well, maybe just a
little harm for you, Clay. I’ll finally settle that score we got. Looks like I’ll be winning after all.” Dewey held up his hands making air quotes, the gun bobbing grotesquely with the motion.
“Your plan won’t work. The guards won’t release him to me. They’ll know something is up,” Pippa pleaded, trying to persuade Dewey.
“You’ll have to make it work, bitch. You got the lives of your kids and lover to worry about. And don’t think about trying to call for help. You’ll be leaving your phone here. If I so much as smell a cop, I’ll kill them. If you don’t bring my kid back, I’ll kill them all, and make you watch.”
Cold, clammy sweat broke out all over her body at his threatening words. She gulped back the vomit rising in her throat and knelt in front of her children—her life—gathered them into a tight hug. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. I’ll be back soon, and it will be all over, okay? You just need to be brave for a little while longer. Clay will help you, but you have to help him too. Do whatever he tells you, do you understand?” She pulled away to look into their precious faces, refusing to consider what could happen if she didn’t bring Daniel back. “I love you both so much.”
She pressed kisses to each beloved brow and steeled her heart against the sound of their sobs. Running her hands through their curly hair, she gave them a watery, encouraging smile as she stood.
Since Dewey had already told her children that Clay was a part of her life, she couldn’t see any harm in what she had planned next.
Walking the short distance to where Clay sat tied up, she angled her body to shield Clay from Dewey and his gun. She bent down and clasped his face tenderly between her hands, the electricity she normally experienced any time she touched him sizzling like sparklers in her fingertips. She pressed her lips against his, keeping her eyes open to watch his. She kissed him deeply, praying that Dewey would be distracted enough to not see her slip her hand into the inner pocket of Clay’s suit coat, praying to find his mobile phone. She smiled when she found her target and drew the phone out. Clay’s mouth curved in an understanding smile, but he didn’t break the contact between them. Her lips lingered on Clay’s, pouring every emotion—every tiny bit of love she felt for him—into her kiss as she maneuvered the small phone into her blouse and hid it in her bra.
Hearts in Harmony Page 21