False Step

by Victoria Helen Stone

  One more swipe of her eyes and she had it together enough to focus on the screen again.

  I needed money. I wanted to start a real business.

  I thought if I could just make this plan work, everything would be better. No one would get hurt. I could pay my bills, buy a better house, maybe my wife would even stop cheating on me.

  Veronica’s heart froze.

  “Oh God,” she moaned. He knew. She’d told herself she didn’t care if he knew, but it wasn’t true. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him; she’d just wanted to stop her own constant, aching pain. “Jesus, Johnny. I’m sorry.”

  The Holcombs seemed like an easy target. I didn’t think they would even miss the cash. I didn’t hurt the boy. I swear. I never hurt him.

  She frowned. That didn’t make any sense. Why was he taking all the blame?

  The cops are getting closer. They won’t stop asking questions and they’ll find the phone records eventually. I can’t go to jail. My daughter . . . My daughter will be better off without us. Sydney, I’m so sorry. Grandma will take good care of you.

  The chill started at the top of her head. It coiled behind her ears and then slid down her neck and chest until her nipples drew tight with prickling terror.

  What the hell did he mean by us?

  “No,” she whispered. Then she said it more loudly. “No.”

  This was why Johnny had arranged for Sydney to be out of the house. Not because he was getting a lecture from Micah but because later he was he planning to . . .

  She sprang up from the chair with such force that it rolled until it hit Sydney’s bed. Her body rocked back and forth. She just stood there, unable to make another move. She didn’t have any idea what to do. Her phone was dead in the next room. Her husband was down the hall between her and both exits from the house.

  But Micah was there too. Micah was here. Thank God. Imperfect, inconstant Micah. He was still here and he’d come here to protect her.

  She stepped carefully to the door and put her ear to it. Nothing. But Johnny could be on the other side, waiting. What if Micah had left and she hadn’t heard the front door close? What if Johnny was lurking there, ready to put his plan into action?

  Her breath came faster and faster until she was panting. The door loomed like a threat, as if the wood itself were the danger. She backed away from it, stared at the knob.

  He wasn’t standing there. She knew that. He wasn’t there.

  She closed her eyes and strained her ears, and even over her hammering heart she could hear a low rumble of conversation from the front room. Still, her hand shook as she reached out. Once you realized your husband was planning to kill you, reality felt a little less concrete. Any minute now an ax head could burst through the wood and he’d be standing there Jack Nicholson–style, and she’d be trapped.

  Fighting every instinct her body had to retreat and hide, she gripped the knob and forced herself to turn it. Slowly, slowly. Once the latch was fully free, she eased the door open a quarter of an inch and put her eye carefully to the gap.

  The hallway was empty. Of course it was. What she’d thought was conversation was actually a basketball game, but she could hear Micah’s voice too, thank God. He hadn’t left her.

  Slightly calmer, she opened the door all the way and stepped into the hall, craning her neck to see as far around the corners as she could. Johnny could be in the kitchen. He could be getting a beer. But she didn’t hear any creak or shift of floorboards, and the fridge hummed on steadily without the loud hum of the fan that signaled someone had opened it.

  Veronica tiptoed across the old wood. When a board snapped under her toes, she cringed and froze as if stillness could take back the sound. Her breath a rock in her throat, she waited, but the game jangled on in the living room. They couldn’t hear anything over that noise, surely.

  She reached the hated basement door and eased past it. Two more feet and she was at the end of the hall. But she wasn’t strong enough to brave a look. She pressed her back to the wall and whispered a soundless prayer for courage.

  Just a few more inches. Johnny would be sitting in his favorite chair, his back to the hallway. He always sat there unless he was snuggling with his family. Why would anything be different just because he planned to murder her?

  Holding her breath, she eased her face past the corner, then jerked it back again. Yes. Johnny’s back was to her, and Micah was on the couch.

  She stepped out from the wall and exposed herself, one finger already to her lips to signal Micah to silence. His eyes stayed locked on the television for an eternally long moment as her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest. When she saw his eyes shift and his head swing up, Veronica was already shaking her head in warning, finger pressed so hard to her lip that she tasted the copper tang of blood.

  No, no, don’t react! Please don’t react!

  His eyes widened. He jerked his head back to the TV.

  When he glanced over again, he barely turned toward her. Finger still locked to her lips, she gestured for him to follow and then she moved as quickly as she could back to Sydney’s room. Through the open door she could just make out Micah’s offer to get Johnny another beer.

  “Sure, thanks,” her husband called out.

  “Here you go, man. I’ve got to take a piss.”

  Veronica clenched her hands tight to her throat and waited. Micah walked past the doorway, then stuttered to a stop and backed up. She frantically waved him in, then shut the door behind him as quietly as she could.

  “He’s going to kill me,” she whispered as she grabbed his arm with both hands.

  “Why?”

  “No, I mean he’s really going to kill me. Johnny. I found a note. He plans to kill me and himself.”

  Micah laughed. He actually laughed and shook his head. “Come on, Veronica. It’s Johnny. He’s not going to kill you.”

  “I found a note!” she repeated, tightening her hold on his biceps, shaking him, trying to make him believe. “And keep your voice down. Please.”

  His smile froze to a grimace before finally fading. “What do you mean? Like a suicide note?”

  “Yes. Yes!”

  His amusement had disappeared, but he still shook his head again. “I don’t believe it.”

  Veronica growled and let him go to gesture toward the monitor. “Read it! It’s right there. He even knows about you and me! I need help. I need to . . .”

  He moved to the desk and she just stood there, arms still raised, fingers still curled to try to grab on to anything that might help her. “I need to get out of here,” she whispered.

  “What the fuck . . . ?” Micah was murmuring. “What the hell is he talking about? Is this about the steroids?”

  “No. It’s bigger than that. Micah, I need to leave now. Sydney is with her grandfather, so she’s safe, but I’m . . . He must have bought a gun, I don’t know. He used to shoot for fun, but I wouldn’t let him have a gun in the house with Sydney.”

  Micah stood and turned to her, his mouth a straight, hard line. “What do you need from me?”

  “I don’t know. If you can distract him . . . I need to get to my car. I need my keys. I can just . . . I don’t know! If we call the cops, anything could happen. He could start a firefight. I don’t know what to do!”

  He reached for her, ran his hands up her arms, squeezed her shoulders. “Shh. It’s okay. I’m here.”

  “Oh God, Micah. I don’t want you in danger either. If he thinks you’re helping . . .”

  “Listen. Can you climb out one of these windows?”

  “I . . . Yes. I think so. Sure.”

  “You get outside. He’ll have no idea that you’re even gone. I’ll stroll back into the living room and tell him I got a call from a client I need to return. I’ll say my goodbyes; then I’ll pull around to the mouth of the alley and pick you up. We’ll get somewhere safe and figure this out.”

  She nodded and nodded, relieved to have a plan. “Yes. Yes, this will work. Just be
careful. He knows we’re having an affair, apparently. He might be out to hurt you too.”

  “Don’t you worry about me, V. Just get out and stay safe until I pick you up. He’s had four or five beers. He’s not going to notice anything.” He kissed her then. Kissed her quick and hard, then wiped the pad of his thumb gently over a tear on her cheek. “You know what to do? Out the window, then get to the end of the alley.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  Micah swung open the bedroom door as if he weren’t afraid of anything. Instead of walking toward the living room, he turned left into the bathroom and flushed the toilet.

  Veronica stayed frozen for a moment before realizing she should use the rushing of the old plumbing as cover for opening the window. She closed the bedroom door, then raced toward the window, popped the locks, and pushed up as hard as she could. The old metal groaned, but the toilet was still running loudly. Thank God for the ancient ten-quart tank. She forced herself to keep shoving until the pane slid fully open. Then she pressed the springs on the screen and pushed it out, letting it fall to the rocky dirt below.

  She was too old for graceful window scaling. First she tried to put one leg through. Then she tried the other. Then she gave up, pulled Sydney’s desk chair close, and climbed onto it. Once she was standing with both feet on the sill, she lowered herself to a sitting position, let her legs dangle, then ducked her head outside as well, until the only part of her inside was her butt.

  It was only a four-foot drop, but she still held her breath as she pushed off, praying that she wouldn’t break an ankle or scrape her entire back against the wall.

  She landed before she could even finish the prayer. And she was fine. She spun on one foot and took off running for the alley and the safety of Micah’s car.

  CHAPTER 25

  Micah wasn’t there. He wasn’t there and that was okay, because he hadn’t promised to spring out of the house and race his car around the corner with tires squealing, but . . . he still wasn’t there.

  Veronica paced down the sidewalk for a moment, then back. Had he meant the other end of the alley? He couldn’t have. Their house was only a third of a block from this corner. The other end of the alley was twice as far away.

  Still, she spun and stared down the long cement line, suddenly aware of just how many bushes and garage overhangs had been put there to block her view.

  “Damn it.”

  She heard a distant car door close and held her breath. Was it him? It had come from that direction. But maybe it was Johnny. Maybe he’d already shot Micah and he was coming to hunt her down. She assumed she would’ve heard a gunshot, but people were killed all the time and not found until days later. So maybe—

  His car turned the corner and headed up the narrow street toward the mouth of the alley, and Veronica sobbed with relief. She bounced on her toes and covered her mouth to keep from crying out.

  As he was pulling up, she raced to open the door before he’d even come to a complete stop. “Thank you!” she cried as she slammed the door shut. He didn’t wait for her to order him to drive. He hit the gas hard and they were racing out of the neighborhood before she even had her seat belt in her hand.

  “Oh God, Micah. This is insane.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Call the police.”

  “If he has a gun, he could end up dead,” he cautioned.

  “I’m not sure I care at this point.”

  “Okay, I’ll call.” He reached for the phone he’d tossed on his dashboard.

  “Wait. Should we check to be sure Sydney is safe first? Johnny could go after her.”

  “He sent her away so she’d be safe. He wouldn’t hurt her.”

  Veronica covered her face. “I know, but I didn’t think he’d hurt me either. Jesus, I don’t know what to do! If we call the police . . . That’s what we should do, right? But if he has a gun they might kill him. He needs help. And I . . .” She couldn’t think. “Micah, this is such a mess. I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry to even get you involved.”

  “I’m not sorry. If I hadn’t been there tonight, who knows what would have happened? I talked to him a little, but then he said we’d talk more after Sydney was out of the house. I never thought . . .”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  Micah turned right on a main thoroughfare, then stole a glance at her face.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You said this wasn’t about dealing drugs?”

  “Oh God.” She sighed. “No. It’s something much bigger. And I screwed up and got myself involved too.”

  “With what?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Veronica.” He set the phone back on the dashboard. “I want to know. I want to fucking fix this. Say the word and I’ll call the cops right now. Or we can drive and you can tell me what the hell is going on. I’ll do whatever you want, whatever you need. I’m here. Okay?”

  He was here. He’d just rescued her from being murdered by her own husband. And if she was going to call the cops, Micah would find himself smack in the middle of this investigation whether he wanted to be or not.

  “The letter said something about the Holcombs . . .”

  She stared at the mountains ahead for a moment. The Holcomb estate was up there somewhere, with a view of the whole city beneath them. On a hilltop, safe above it all, they’d felt invincible and let their guard down.

  “He was involved in the kidnapping,” she finally blurted out.

  “No. No fucking way.”

  “He was. I found fifty thousand dollars in the basement. And there was the phone. It wasn’t for his affair.”

  “You’re saying he kidnapped that kid?”

  “I think it was Trey. Or maybe it was Neesa or her husband. Johnny said he just agreed to ‘rescue’ Tanner. You know? He said he wasn’t there for the kidnapping, and I know that’s the truth. He was with me that day. He has an alibi. But in the letter he confessed to everything. It makes no sense.”

  “Are you sure he couldn’t have done it?”

  “He was only out of the house for an hour that afternoon. He went for a run.”

  “But you’re the only one who can confirm that?”

  “Yeah.” She shook her head. “It must be Neesa. He’s trying to protect her.” Veronica laughed and threw her hands in the air. “My God, he’s in love with her and he was trying to protect her by killing me! Apparently I don’t know anything about him! I didn’t even know he could write a decent letter. Half of his texts are abbreviations.”

  Micah patted her hand. “So I don’t get it. How are you involved? Were you in on it? You knew?”

  “No! Of course not. I didn’t suspect anything until I found that phone. And I didn’t know anything until I found the money. Even then I thought it might be drugs. Jesus.”

  “So you found the money and he confessed?”

  “Yeah.” The mountains loomed larger. Veronica slid a little lower in her seat and tried to relax enough to think. “Then I took some of the cash. I thought Syd and I would need it if Johnny was arrested. It was a mistake. I put it back, but I’m still worried. What if they find my DNA on the money?”

  “Jesus, V.”

  “I know.”

  Micah’s phone rang, the buzz so startling that Veronica yelped with fear. Johnny’s name appeared on the screen and her yelp turned into a groan. Micah touched the phone and silenced it.

  “Okay, listen. Don’t worry about him. Let’s go somewhere safe for the night. If he can’t find you, he can’t . . . do anything. We’ll figure out a strategy for approaching the police. Maybe contact a lawyer. We’ll do this the right way, without rushing into anything. We need to frame our involvement as something innocent.”

  “Yeah. That’s a good idea. You’re so smart. We should get Sydney, though. I don’t want to scare her, but what if he decides to . . . Jesus. He’d never hurt her, would he?”

  “He won’t h
urt Sydney. If he wanted to hurt you, it was because of . . . well . . . me, I guess.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “No, of course not!”

  “He never mentioned it to you?” she pressed. “Hinted that he knew?”

  “I had absolutely no idea. He never let on. I never wanted him to know.”

  She nodded, fully aware Micah had meant to keep everything on the down-low. “Let me think about Sydney. They’re out in public right now anyway. She’s safe with my dad for a couple of hours.”

  Micah turned right and they curled through Golden, rising higher, the mountains now blocked by the foothills. “Do you think we should find a hotel?” she asked, aware of how excited she would have been by the idea just an hour ago.

  “Yeah. We can’t go to my place, obviously. He’ll look there.”

  “If he thinks we’re together.”

  “Your car is still home, and apparently he knows why you’d leave with me.”

  “Right.” She let her mind drift for a while, still turning over the pros and cons of getting Sydney. How would she explain that her daughter needed to leave her grandfather and come with her mom to a hotel without scaring her? But maybe she should be scared. Sydney’s father had orchestrated a kidnapping and was planning to kill her mom.

  “Johnny was going to kill me.” The words fell from her mouth, pushed by the sudden horror of it welling up in her. The initial shock had worn off. The stark fear had faded. Now she felt the dark cavern of this knowledge she would carry with her the rest of her life. She’d loved this man, married him, borne his child, built a life, and he’d meant to cut her down and take away his daughter’s mom and dad in one cruel act.

  She curled up in the seat and wept. Past her sobbing, she distantly felt Micah stroking her hair. “Even”—she drew a shuddering breath and sobbed again—“even if he hated me . . . how could he do that to Sydney?”

  “He’s not thinking straight.”