“Am I allowed to drink coffee when I’m pregnant?” Chelsea asked as she set Hope down on the floor. Sonia smiled.
“Good question. One cup a day is fine.”
“Sure, then. Black, please. Don’t you need to go into work this morning?” Chelsea asked.
“Not until three. Dr. Chu has the morning shift today. Maybe you’d like to come with? I’ve got a spay first up this afternoon and then a teeth cleaning. Thai Ridgeback. Have you ever seen one?”
“That’s a type of cat or a dog?”
“Dog. They have big ears that stand straight up and the fur on their back grows in the opposite direction of the rest of their coat.” Sonia handed her the coffee.
“Thanks. I’ve never seen one but they sound cute.”
“I’ll show you a picture.” As Sonia started to search for images of the dog on her tablet, the doorbell rang. She handed the tablet to Chelsea. “Go ahead and look for it. I’ll be right back.”
Chelsea had just begun to swipe through the photos of dogs when she saw an ad pop up on Sonia’s iPad for dog food and remembered she’d left Hope’s bottle upstairs. As she padded down the hall, she saw Sonia disarm the security system and open the door. She knelt down and picked up a box.
“What’s that?” Chelsea asked as she passed Sonia to head up the stairs.
“It’s addressed to Jeff. . . .” Sonia said, intrigued. “But I don’t know who it’s from. It must be from someone at—”
“Special delivery,” Greg interrupted as he stepped out from the hedge where he was hiding and shoved a gun in Sonia’s face. In less than a second, he was inside, shoving Sonia up against the wall. Lauren barged in right behind him, gripping a gun as well, and slammed the door shut.
“Oh my god,” Sonia gasped, raising her hands in the air. Chelsea froze, shocked.
“There she is!” Lauren said, and pointed her gun up at Chelsea. “Don’t move.” Chelsea couldn’t move if she’d wanted to. Her legs simply wouldn’t do it. Greg, keeping his gun trained on Sonia, hurried up the stairs and grabbed Chelsea, pulling her back down into the foyer. Lauren walked briskly toward her until the gun was only a few inches from her cheek.
Greg then seized Sonia by the arm and yanked her to the center of the foyer before pushing her forcefully toward Chelsea and Lauren. Sonia obediently walked toward the girls, hands still raised, her face expressionless. When Sonia reached Chelsea, Greg clutched Sonia’s forearm and spun her around to face him so that Chelsea and Sonia stood side by side, looking into the face of evil.
“Now that we’re all here, let’s get down to business,” Greg hissed in a low, gravelly tone. “Here’s what happens next. You, Sonia Clefton, are going to write a check for fifty grand to Chelsea. Then Chelsea and I are going to go to the bank and cash that check while my sister keeps you company. Understand?” Chelsea turned her gaze toward Sonia, terrified. Please don’t refuse, she silently begged Sonia. He will shoot you. He did it to Mikey and he’ll do it to you. When Sonia didn’t immediately agree with his demand, panic began to rise in Chelsea.
“That won’t work,” Sonia said, her voice steady. What was she doing? No, no, no! Greg’s eyes narrowed as he stepped in front of Sonia and shoved the barrel of his gun into her cheek.
“Don’t fuck with me, lady. I’m not in the mood.”
“If you want money, you’ll have to do it a different way. The bank isn’t going to cash a check that large,” Sonia said in a soft, controlled voice. “She’ll have to deposit it and wait for the funds to transfer.” Chelsea could feel her hands start to tremble, afraid she was about to see Sonia get shot. She was surprised when Greg didn’t flip out on her. Instead he just stared into her eyes.
“Then I guess you make that check out to me and I kill you both right now.” Chelsea knew he meant it.
“Wait,” Sonia said, the steely, calm quality of her voice quickly disappearing. “I can get you your money. We keep cash in a safe-deposit box at the bank.”
“How much?” Lauren interrupted. Until then, she’d stayed silent, letting her brother take the lead.
“Twenty-five thousand. But there’s also the jewelry I have in my jewelry box upstairs along with my wedding ring; it’s well over fifty.”
Greg thought for a moment and then whispered something to Lauren. She nodded. Chelsea glanced over at Sonia, but Sonia didn’t look back at her. She was observing the exchange between Lauren and Greg. Chelsea hoped Sonia wasn’t going to try to outsmart Greg. He was ruthless and greedy and he’d had plenty of time to come up with a contingency plan. She was sure Sonia had no clue what she was up against.
“Okay,” Greg finally said to Sonia. “I’ll take you to the bank where you’ll clear out your safe-deposit box. But Chelsea here is my insurance policy.” Chelsea looked over at Lauren, unsure what he meant. “While I’m with you, Lauren takes Chelsea to an undisclosed location. If she doesn’t get a text from me by two p.m. saying I have the money, Chelsea dies and so does her baby.” Chelsea sucked in her breath, terrified. Sonia didn’t flinch. “If you do what you’re told, and the money’s really in there, everyone’s gonna be just fine. Lauren and I will be long gone and you’ll never have to deal with us again.”
Silence. It was Sonia’s turn. He’d basically called her bluff. If the money wasn’t there, and Sonia had anticipated alerting authorities at the bank, that plan was now shot to hell.
“Please,” Sonia said, the steadiness returning to her voice. “Just wait here. I’ll get the money and—”
“Shut up!” Greg seethed, shoving the gun against her temple. “We’re doing this my way. Where’s the key to the box?”
“In the drawer in the kitchen, last drawer on the right, in a gray envelope.” Greg disappeared for a moment, leaving Lauren to watch over them. Chelsea wondered if Sonia would try to do something now that Lauren was outnumbered. Attack her, maybe? Greg was only a few steps away, though. It’d be risky. Chelsea decided to leave the decision to Sonia.
Only seconds passed before Greg returned with the key. Grabbing Sonia by the arm, he yanked her toward the foyer, almost knocking her off her feet. Lauren, less physical than her brother, waved with her gun for Chelsea to follow. On the way out, Greg snatched up Sonia’s purse and car keys. Chelsea glanced back as Lauren yanked the door shut behind them, but not before Chelsea caught a glimpse of little Hope sitting in the kitchen at the end of the hall, watching them, confused.
Chelsea could feel the cold, steel barrel of the gun in her back as Lauren walked closely behind her, steering her toward Greg’s truck. Meanwhile Greg was looking around cautiously, as if searching for any signs of spying neighbors, before escorting Sonia to her SUV.
“Stop right there,” Lauren ordered before Chelsea could open the passenger door. Chelsea stopped and Lauren grabbed her forearms, pulling them behind her back. A few seconds later, Chelsea could feel something sharp wrap around her wrists. With a snapping sound, they were uncomfortably cinched together. Chelsea figured it was a zip tie and she pulled against it, testing its strength. Whatever it was, it was strong. And impossible to break.
She watched as Greg forced Sonia into her SUV through the passenger side and told her to scoot across and drive. Holding the gun low, just over his lap where it couldn’t be seen by a passing car, he got in and pulled the door shut. Lauren shoved Chelsea into the front passenger seat of Greg’s truck and clicked the seat belt across her.
“Safety first,” Lauren said with a smirk. Chelsea watched as Sonia’s Lexus backed out of the driveway and drove off down the street. Lauren started Greg’s truck and pulled away from the curb, heading in the opposite direction. Chelsea watched in the side mirror as Sonia’s SUV disappeared around the corner and she wondered if it was the last time she’d ever see her.
Thirteen
Matters of Life and Death
Sonia held the steering wheel in a death grip, her knuckles white as she tried to focus on driving instead of the gun that was pointed at her side.
�
�Chelsea really won the lottery when she found you, didn’t she?” Greg muttered, disdain in his voice. Sonia wasn’t exactly sure what Greg wanted. He was obviously interested in money, but she wasn’t sure if revenge was a motive as well. Most likely it was, and Sonia was sure that Greg and his sister had no intention of letting her or Chelsea live once this was all over. He had to know Chelsea would go to the police. She’d done it before. Even if they were long gone like he claimed they’d be, it would be much easier for him if she and Chelsea were dead. Still, she needed to try to negotiate. Chances were slim that it would work, but Sonia knew she had to play every card in her hand.
“Whatever you think Chelsea owes you, I’ll pay it. Whatever it takes to get everyone back to even,” Sonia assured him.
“That’s something a rich person would say. No amount of money can make things right. Three years of my life are gone.”
“But the next three can be very different. Chelsea’s a child. So is your sister. Don’t drag them into something that you and I can work out. . . .” If she could appeal to his sense of humanity, perhaps she could remind him that the decisions he’d made today would affect Lauren. She hoped he loved his little sister enough to care. Greg smirked.
“I do like how you think,” he said. “Let’s start with the bank and see where it goes from there.” As much as she wanted to believe him, Sonia was fairly certain he was lying. However, if she could string him along and let him believe she’d give him more, it might buy her some time. The longer she spent with him, the greater the chance he’d make a mistake, and she could get the upper hand or alert someone to what was going on.
Sonia pulled into a parking space near the front entrance of the bank she and Jeff had patronized for the past eight years. They’d started banking there when they moved into their house, and the tellers knew her quite well. Once inside, she could blurt out what was happening anytime she wanted. All she had to do was yell that she was being robbed. They’d believe her and call the police right away. But what if she did that and Greg decided to shoot her right then and there? And if Lauren didn’t receive that text by two o’clock, Chelsea’s life was over. If she was going to try to take Greg down, she had to make sure that text still went through, and she wasn’t sure how she could do that.
And then there were the other people to think about. If she exposed Greg at the bank, there was a chance he would just open fire on anyone and everyone. Backing him into a corner was a bad idea. She didn’t want the blood of innocent people on her hands. I have to let him believe he’s in control, she reminded herself. With no real strategy, Sonia decided to see if the opportunity presented itself inside. Until then, she’d play it cool.
“Just in case you try to pull something,” Greg warned as he typed a quick text on his phone and showed it to Sonia. It was a text to Lauren that read: Kill Chelsea and run.
Sonia swallowed hard. Even though he hadn’t sent it, even reading the words made her heart pound.
“If that money’s not there, or I think you’re trying to send some little distress signal, all I have to do is hit send. One button. Clear?” Sonia nodded. “Good,” he continued. “Now I’m going to get out of the car. You sit until I open your door. Then you’ll get out and walk in front of me.” He grabbed the keys. She nodded.
Greg shoved the gun into his jacket pocket, opened the door, and stepped out. She wanted to throw open her door and run across the parking lot screaming for help, but thoughts of that text stopped her. Like he’d said, all he had to do was push a button and Chelsea was dead.
Greg opened her door.
“Move,” he ordered. Sonia climbed out and began to walk slowly toward the door, looking around as much as she could without tipping him off, taking in every detail of her surroundings. There were three other cars parked in the lot, one woman standing outside at the ATM, and a man with a cane leaving the branch. She glanced back. Greg held his phone in his left hand, his thumb hovering over the send button. There was nothing she could do yet. Perhaps once they were inside the bank, she could find a way to get away from him long enough to summon help. As they entered the lobby, she saw only one teller working. It was Carla, a short Latina woman with a scar over her eye. Carla had been an employee there for over a year and had never called her by name or had any kind of personal conversation with her. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to convey to Carla that something was terribly wrong.
“Get in line,” Greg whispered in her ear as the door swung closed behind them. His breath was warm and smelled like coffee and stale cigarettes. Sonia stepped up into the line behind a man in a paint-splattered shirt and jeans. She could feel Greg pressing his body against her back. Maintaining a smile, she waited for the painter to cash his check, bid a cheery good-bye to Carla, and head toward the door.
“Hi. What can I help you with today?” Carla asked. Sonia stepped forward and leaned over the counter.
“Hi,” Sonia responded calmly. “I need access to my safe-deposit box.” Sonia looked around. Samantha, the bank manager, was at her desk behind Carla showing an employee something on a computer. Should she make a point of saying hi to Samantha? No. She needed to just act normal. The situation with Greg was too volatile and anything that seemed out of the ordinary might send him into a frenzy.
“No problem. It’s Mrs. . . . ?”
“Clefton. Sonia Clefton.” Sonia could see Greg out of the corner of her eye. He’d stepped slightly to the side of her and was discreetly glancing around, sizing up the place. As Carla typed something into her computer, Sonia let her gaze drift up, trying to find the security cameras. If she couldn’t convey her distress to a teller, maybe she could at least get it on tape.
“I’ll ask Brian to meet you at the doors and take you back to the vault.”
“Great, thanks.” Sonia walked with Greg at her side to a heavy wooden door leading to the back. With a buzz it opened, and Sonia stepped inside where Brian, a fresh-faced teller who looked much younger than his age, was waiting.
“Mrs. Clefton, please follow me.” Brian, in a suit slightly too big for his medium-size frame, escorted them back to a vault door. He opened it with a key and they followed him into the large room where gold safe-deposit boxes lined the walls and the only furniture was a single metal table.
Brian walked to the box labeled 3294 and stuffed a key into the upper lock. Sonia retrieved her own key from her pocket and with a steady hand, slid it into the lower lock. They both turned simultaneously, opening the box door, and Brian slid the long box out of its cubby and set it on the table. She could see Greg hanging back, trying to act normal in front of Brian. It worked. Brian didn’t suspect a thing.
“Just press the button on the wall when you’re finished and I’ll come back.”
“Thank you,” Sonia said, trying to signal him with her eyes. The young man was clueless, though.
As soon as Brian exited, Greg muscled her aside and ravenously opened the box. He seemed to light up when he saw the four stacks of cash rubber-banded together. He grabbed them and shoved them into her purse. “What’s the rest of this?” he asked as he picked up her and Jeff’s passports and flipped to the photo page.
“Life insurance policies, car titles, our wills . . .” It was terrifying to think that Jeff would most likely soon be cashing in on their assets as the widower whose estranged wife was murdered.
Greg picked up a vintage ring with an opal that belonged to Sonia’s great-grandmother. Nestled in an ornate gold setting, the flecks of green and orange inside the stone glittered in the dim tungsten light. Greg tucked it into his pocket and then pulled out a pair of solid gold wedding bands that were once worn by Jeff’s grandparents. Greg slipped those into his pocket as well. Then, grappling with the stack of papers, he shoved them into the pocket inside his jacket to go through later. Closing the lid to the now-empty box, Greg stuffed it back into its hole and shut the door. He pushed the button on the wall and smiled at Sonia as they waited for Brian to return.
“
Get what you needed?” Brian asked as he entered the room and they both used their keys to lock the cubby door.
“I did,” Sonia said, trying once again to give him a sign, a look, anything to let him know something was wrong with this picture.
“Great. Have a good day,” Brian said, and escorted them back to the lobby.
“Thank you,” Sonia said, turning to him one last time before the door buzzed open and they stepped through. Brian smiled and shut the door.
“Great,” Greg whispered. “Let’s go.”
Chelsea had been riding with Lauren for almost thirty minutes before Lauren decided to speak.
“You’re getting what you deserve, you know,” Lauren said with a malicious smirk.
Getting what I deserve? Chelsea thought. I deserve to be kidnapped? To have the woman who’s been nothing but nice to me, robbed? How delusional can you be? Although the comment made her livid, she kept her cool. She had to. Flipping out on Lauren, screaming all the things she wanted to say, would only get her killed. She had to be smart. She had to think like Sonia would.
“You can’t really still believe he’s innocent,” Chelsea said. “Not when he’s in the middle of doing it again.”
“You have no idea what my brother’s been through!”
“Are you gonna tell me what a tough life he’s had? Cuz I don’t care.” It was the truth. She didn’t give a rat’s ass what Greg had been through. Nothing that had happened to him, no matter how bad, gave him the right to do what he was doing.
“You think you know so much,” Lauren spat. “You don’t know shit. Greg saved my life.”
So what? If someone saves your life, you’re obligated to help them kidnap and rob people? Lauren’s out of her mind.
“That’s right,” Lauren continued. “Our stepdad almost killed me. Greg stopped him and spent two days in the hospital because of it. He finally had to convince our mom to pack up her stuff and sneak out in the middle of the night. When our stepdad stole all our mom’s money, Greg’s the one who went and got it back. So shut the hell up about my brother! You know nothing!”
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