by Joy Fielding
“Sit down, Mrs. Brown,” the man told her. “Keep me company.”
How does he know my name? Kathy wondered. Who is he? Is he one of Lisa’s friends? Is that why he calls me by my last name? “I’d like to see if my husband is okay,” she said.
“Your husband can wait. Trust me, he’s not going anywhere. Sit down,” the thin man said again. He patted the seat of the chair beside him, and Kathy sank into it.
The man tried to take a bite of his sandwich, but his ski mask got in the way. Bits of tuna stuck to the mask around his mouth and chin. “What are you looking at?” he snapped.
“Nothing,” Kathy said. “I’m sorry.”
“You think this is funny?”
Kathy could tell that the man was getting mad. She didn’t want him to take his anger out on her and Jack. “No, of course not,” she said.
The man grunted. He pushed up the bottom of his ski mask and pulled it away from his mouth. He had narrow lips, and one of his front teeth was chipped. She watched as he bit into the sandwich.
“I could use a drink,” the man said as he chewed. “And I don’t mean milk,” he said as he reached for his glass. But his leather gloves were thick, and the glass of milk almost slipped from his hands. “Aw, the hell with it!” he swore. He ripped his gloves off and slapped them down on the glass table.
The first thing Kathy noticed was the man’s long, thin fingers. The second thing she noticed was that his fingernails were chewed right down to the skin. The third thing she noticed was the spider tattoo on the back of his left hand.
Kathy gasped. Her eyes shot to the eyes of the man behind the ski mask.
“What?” the man said. He looked from his glass of milk to the back of his hand. “Are you afraid of spiders?”
There was a second of silence.
“You know who I am,” the man said slowly. “Don’t you?”
“No,” Kathy lied, but it was too late.
They both knew the truth.
Kathy knew that the man in the ski mask was the same young man who’d delivered her groceries. That’s how he knew her name. That’s how he knew where her kitchen was. That’s how he knew she had tuna and rye bread. He’d been in her house, in this very kitchen, just days ago. “Nice house,” he’d said at the time. Had he made up his mind right then and there to come back and rob her?
“I don’t know who you are,” Kathy lied.
The young man laughed. “Then allow me to introduce myself,” he said. He pulled off his ski mask. Straight black hair quickly fell around his chin. He scratched his nose, which was long and straight. Sweat dripped from his forehead into his dark eyes. He smiled, and Kathy wondered if his front tooth had been chipped in a fight. And how many other homes had he and Steve broken into in the middle of the night? “I’m Bobby,” the young man said. “What’s your first name, Mrs. Brown?”
“Kathy,” Kathy whispered. She was sure Bobby could hear her heart pounding. What would happen to her and Jack now?
“Nice to meet you, Kathy,” Bobby said. “You make a good sandwich.” He took a big bite. “I noticed that you only buy the best.”
“Please don’t hurt us,” Kathy said.
“Nobody’s going to get hurt as long as we get what we want.”
“Can’t you just go and leave us alone? You have our bank cards...”
“As soon as I hear from my pal Steve. When he tells me everything’s okay, I’ll be on my way.”
“My husband is bleeding. He needs a doctor.”
“A little blood never hurt anybody,” Bobby said. He took another bite of his sandwich. Then he drank half the glass of milk in one gulp.
He’s only a boy, Kathy thought.
A boy with a gun, she thought in the next breath.
“Okay, play time is over,” Bobby said. He stood up. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to tie you up again.” He grabbed Kathy’s arm and pulled her to her feet.
“No. Please don’t,” Kathy begged. “I promise I won’t try to get away.”
“Has anybody ever told you that you’re a very bad liar, Mrs. Brown?” Bobby asked.
Kathy said nothing. He’s wrong, she thought. I’m a very good liar.
She’d lied to Jack when he came home from work. When he’d asked her what she’d done today, she’d said, “Not much. I ran a bunch of errands, went for a walk, stopped for coffee.”
She didn’t tell her husband she’d stopped for coffee with an old boyfriend. She didn’t mention how Michael’s knees had brushed against hers under the small table. She didn’t say anything about the touch of his hand. She didn’t tell Jack that Michael’s touch had made her heart flutter and her pulse race.
Okay, so maybe I didn’t really lie, she thought. But I didn’t tell the truth, either.
“Turn around,” Bobby said now. He tied Kathy’s hands behind her back much tighter than before.
“Ow. That hurts,” Kathy said.
“Don’t worry,” Bobby told her. “It won’t be for long.” His cell phone rang. Bobby reached into his back pocket for it, then pressed the phone tight against his ear. “Hey, Steve,” he said, glancing at Kathy. “I think we might have a problem.”
Chapter Five
“She knows who I am,” Bobby told Steve over the phone. He pushed Kathy back toward the den. “She saw the spider tattoo. What does it matter how she saw it? She saw it, and now she knows who I am.”
Kathy tried to hear what Steve was saying, but she couldn’t. Then she heard Steve laugh.
“Okay, yeah. Okay,” Bobby said into the phone. “How’s it going on your end? You get the money? Okay, yeah. Call me as soon as you’re done. Then I’ll take care of the rest.” Bobby returned the cell phone to the back pocket of his jeans.
What did he mean by “take care of the rest”? Kathy wondered.
At that moment, she knew the men were going to kill her and Jack.
“Steve’s got a few more stops to make,” Bobby said. “He shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Please don’t hurt us,” Kathy pleaded. How many times had she said the same thing tonight? Did she really think there was any chance that Bobby might not kill her and Jack? Once Steve called to say that he had all the money, Kathy knew that she and her husband were as good as dead.
“Just be a good little girl and do what you’re told. Everything will be all right,” Bobby said as they entered the den.
Jack hadn’t moved. He was still lying on the floor, but he was no longer moaning. Kathy didn’t know whether he was still alive. Bobby pushed her to the floor beside her husband. Only then could she hear Jack’s breathing. “He sounds terrible,” she said to Bobby. “He needs a doctor.”
“He sounds fine to me,” Bobby said. He began tying up Kathy’s feet.
“Please,” Kathy began again.
“Be quiet, Mrs. Brown,” Bobby said. He gave her a mean look, a look that warned her not to say another word.
Once Kathy’s feet were tied together, Bobby got up and began looking through the books on the shelves. “Looks as if you guys really like to read,” he said. “Me, I like video games. You got any of those lying around?” He began looking through the drawers of the big oak desk, tossing their contents to the floor.
“Well, well. Look at what we have here.” Bobby pulled out a bottle of whisky from the bottom drawer of the desk. “Looks like you’ve been holding out on me, Mrs. Brown.” Bobby opened the bottle. “That wasn’t very nice of you.” He took one long swallow of whisky straight from the bottle, then another, and then another. “This is good stuff. No wonder you didn’t want to share it.” Bobby took an even longer swallow, gulping the whisky down the same way he’d gulped his milk.
“What else have you got in here?” Bobby began digging through the desk drawers again, tossing pens and papers to the blue carpet.
He doesn’t care about the mess he’s making, Kathy thought. He doesn’t care about anything except the money.
She and Jack had to get out of there before S
teve called again, Kathy knew. As soon as Steve phoned to say he had the money, Bobby would shoot them. Bobby might even wait until Steve got back and together they would finish off Kathy and Jack. Steve looked as if he would enjoy killing them both.
We have to get out of here now, Kathy thought. But how could they manage to get away? She was tied up, and Jack was barely breathing.
Kathy watched Bobby empty the last of the desk drawers. Then he sat down in the brown leather chair. The whisky bottle was now almost empty. Maybe if he got drunk, she thought, she might be able to convince him to let her and Jack go.
Bobby finished off what was left in the bottle. “You got any more of this stuff?” he asked. Then he threw the bottle at the wall, and it smashed into dozens of pieces. Bobby laughed. “Oops,” he said.
Kathy took quick note of the slivers of glass lying on the floor. One big piece had bounced under the desk. If she could get to it, she might be able to use it to cut through the rope around her wrists. Then maybe she and Jack could try to escape. “There’s a liquor cabinet in the dining room,” Kathy told Bobby.
“Well, now, why didn’t you say so before?” Bobby asked. He got up from the chair and walked into the hall. Bits of glass crunched beneath his feet.
Kathy saw that Bobby swayed a bit as he crossed the room. Was he drunk?
“I’m not drunk,” Bobby told her, as if he could read her thoughts. “So don’t go getting any stupid ideas.”
As soon as Bobby left the room, Kathy crawled toward the desk. A piece of glass stuck into her bare arm. She bit her tongue to keep from crying out and kept moving. She quickly found the large piece of glass that had landed under the desk. Somehow she got it between her fingers.
Kathy heard Bobby moving around in the dining room. He opened the doors of the china cabinet. Sickened, she heard her good china breaking as Bobby flung cups and saucers to the floor. How long would he take to find the liquor cabinet? She didn’t have much time left. She had to work fast.
Bits of glass stuck to Kathy’s cotton nightgown as she crawled back to Jack’s side. “We’re going to get out of here,” she told him, but he didn’t respond. “Hang on, sweetheart,” she said. “Please hang on.” She tried to get the piece of glass in her fingers into the right position to cut through the rope, but the glass kept slipping. “Oh, no,” she cried as the glass fell to the floor. Her eyes searched for it on the blue carpet around her.
Kathy could still hear Bobby in the dining room. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said. For a minute she thought Bobby was talking to her, and she froze. Then she realized he was talking to the whisky he hoped to find.
Kathy twisted around, looking for the lost piece of glass. “Where are you?” she cried softly.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Bobby called out again.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she whispered along with him.
“There you are,” Bobby said.
“There you are.” Kathy saw the piece of glass. Slowly and carefully, she managed to get it back between her fingers.
Just then, Bobby returned to the den. He was holding a brand new bottle of malt whisky. “Look what I found,” he said. He plopped down on the sofa and lifted his feet to the glass coffee table. He was wearing heavy black boots with pointed toes. The bottoms were covered with dried mud. “I’m afraid I made a bit of a mess in the dining room,” Bobby said, and laughed.
He tried to open the whisky bottle, but his hands were too shaky. The bottle cap wouldn’t budge. “What’s the matter with this stupid thing?” he asked. Kathy could hear the growing anger in his voice. “Can you open this stupid thing?” Bobby asked her. He lowered his feet to the floor.
Kathy held her breath. Was Bobby planning to untie her hands so she could open the bottle? If he came over, he would see the piece of glass hidden in her palm. And then what? Would he be so angry that he’d use it to slash her throat?
Kathy gripped the piece of broken glass tighter in the palm of her hand. Maybe Bobby wouldn’t notice it. And if he did notice it, could Kathy use it on him? Was she capable of harming another human being?
A few days ago, Kathy would have answered “no” to both questions. She’d always been such a good girl. The child who always did as she was told. The teenager who always had her homework done. Kathy had never given her parents any real trouble. She’d always followed the rules. Kathy wasn’t a risk taker. She wasn’t a rule breaker.
And yet, the last few days had changed all that. Since Michael had looked her up on Facebook, Kathy had turned into someone she barely knew. She’d become a woman who kept secrets. She’d become a woman who snuck around and did things behind her husband’s back. How had she let that happen? How had she allowed Michael, who had caused her so much pain, to invade her life again?
Kathy held her breath as Bobby pushed himself off the sofa. Then he suddenly sank back down. “Well, what do you know?” Bobby said. “The cap came off.” He laughed as he threw the bottle cap to the floor. Then he put his dirty boots back up on the coffee table. He took a long drink of the whisky. “That’s better,” he said with a smile. “Much, much better.”
Kathy sighed with relief. As long as Bobby kept drinking, she might have a chance. She might cut through the rope that bound her wrists behind her back. She and Jack might have a chance of getting out of the house alive.
Kathy could see that her husband was badly hurt. Jack’s breathing was as jagged as the piece of glass between her fingers. “I love you,” she whispered to him.
“Did you say something?” Bobby asked. He was staring at the floor.
Again Kathy held her breath. Had Bobby noticed the broken glass on the carpet? Had he figured out what she was up to?
Bobby lifted his feet off the table and stretched out on the sofa. He laid his head against one of the sofa’s soft brown pillows and took another sip from the whisky bottle. He closed his eyes. “I’m watching you,” he said.
Was he? Kathy wondered. Or was he about to pass out from all the liquor he’d been drinking?
Kathy began gently rubbing the piece of glass in her hands against the rope. Back and forth, back and forth. Soon gentle snoring came from the sofa. Seconds later, the almost-empty bottle slipped from Bobby’s hands and fell to the floor.
Chapter Six
Kathy waited until she was sure that Bobby was asleep. Then she pushed herself onto her knees. “Bobby,” she called softly. Then again, a little louder, “Bobby!”
Bobby said nothing.
“Bobby,” Kathy called a third time. She wondered if Bobby was really asleep or if he was just playing with her.
Bobby snored again.
I don’t have much time, Kathy thought. I have to move fast. Bobby might not sleep for long. Steve would phone any minute to tell Bobby he had the money. It would be Bobby’s turn to “take care of the rest.”
Kathy tried harder to cut through the rope at her wrists, but she had no luck. She kept losing her grip on the glass. “It’s not working,” she cried. “I can’t do this.”
Bobby flipped over onto his side. Now he faced her. Are his eyes open? Kathy wondered. Does he know what I’m doing? Does he think this is funny? Kathy stared through the darkness. She was afraid to move.
She sat still until she knew for sure that Bobby was asleep. Then she tried again to cut through the rope. But her hands were shaking. Once again, the glass slipped, cutting into her skin instead of the rope. Kathy cried out in pain as she dropped the glass.
Bobby stirred with the sound of her cry, but he didn’t wake up.
I’m so stupid, Kathy moaned. No wonder my stepdaughter hates me. Lisa thinks I’m stupid and silly and not worth her time. And Lisa is right. I’m useless. I can’t do anything. No wonder Lisa hates me.
Guilt suddenly stabbed her. When the two masked men had grabbed her in the hall, Kathy’s first thought had been to blame Lisa. Steve and Bobby had likely got into the house through Lisa’s open window. She had felt p
retty sure that the men were friends of Lisa’s. For a few seconds, Kathy had even wondered whether Lisa might be the brains behind this home invasion.
And all the time, it was my fault, Kathy thought now. I’m the one who let Bobby inside the house when he delivered my groceries. Kathy remembered leading Bobby through the front hall and dining room into the kitchen. She’d told him to put the groceries on the counter. She said she liked the spider tattoo on the back of his hand, even though she really found it creepy. Bobby, in turn, had pointed out the ants, just as he had in her dream. He even gave her the name of a product that would get rid of the ants. “Nice house,” Bobby had said before he left.
At the time, Kathy thought he was a very sweet young man. Which just goes to show what a great judge of people I am, Kathy thought now.
She pictured Michael. Hadn’t she once thought Michael was very sweet, too? In high school, she’d been crazy about him, bragging about their great love to all her friends. And then he’d dumped her without warning for one of those friends. What a jerk Michael had turned out to be.
And yet I answered Michael’s emails, Kathy thought. I met him for coffee, not once, but twice. After all these years, I let him steal back into my mind and my heart and my life. Why? Because Michael is handsome and charming and I’m restless and a little bored? Because I’m tired of trying to win over my stepdaughter and want to return to a time when life was easy?
When had life ever been easy?
I don’t want Michael, Kathy now understood.
I want my husband.
I love Jack and the life we’ve built together, Kathy thought. How could I have risked losing it?
Kathy glanced at her husband, who lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Please don’t die, she prayed silently. Please let us get out of here before Bobby wakes up and Steve comes back.
Kathy searched the carpet with her eyes for the piece of glass she’d dropped. Finally she found it. Once more, she gripped it between her bleeding fingers, then began rubbing it back and forth across the rope. If she could just free her hands, then she could untie her feet. And then she could untie Jack, and together they could make their escape.