by Terry Odell
He stepped further into the room, only then noticing that Norma’s elbows were propped on the table, her hands holding a small pistol aimed at Elizabeth.
Chapter 33
Elizabeth sent mental messages to Grinch.
Please, do what she says. The boys are upstairs. Please don’t do anything to make her mad. Please, no gunfights in the kitchen. Please.
He didn’t have his gun, did he? And if he did, she prayed he wouldn’t do something stupid—like shoot it. She stared at the gun Norma Fitzsimmons held. Her mouth went dry, her heart pounded.
“All right, Norma,” he said. “No need to do anything stupid. What do you want?”
“First, take your hands out of your pockets, please. Merely a precaution.”
Grinch complied, holding his empty hands up where Norma could see them. He gave Elizabeth a brief nod as he pulled out the chair next to hers, then set his hands over hers and squeezed gently.
She nodded. “Now we’ll wait for your guest.”
“Guest?” Elizabeth’s stomach filled with ice. Victor. After all this subterfuge, he’d found her. “You? All that welcome to the neighborhood? The gifts.” She gestured to the platter. “The cookies? All a ruse?”
“Oh, no, dear. I did want you to feel welcome here, and I am the head of the welcome committee. Mark knows I’m active in the community, right?” She smiled in his direction.
Grinch nodded. Smiled back. As if this was one of Norma’s typical visits. “Most definitely. But this is a new one. I’m intrigued. What made you do it?”
“I got a call from a private investigator that Elizabeth’s—if that’s your name—poor, grieving husband thought there’d been a mistake. That his wife and son might be alive. All I had to do was take your pictures so he could check. Family is so important, you know. And—” She leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper— “I must say, this has been the most fun I’ve had in years. Nothing exciting ever happens in Deer Ridge.”
“Fun? You’re pointing a gun at us, and you say it’s fun?” Elizabeth’s voice rose. She clamped her mouth shut, afraid the boys might have heard. She did not want them coming downstairs. Over the blood pounding in her hears, she strained to hear what they were doing upstairs. Giggles filled her with relief.
“But why?” Elizabeth continued. Taking her cue from Grinch, she strove to keep her voice calm. “I can understand it must have been fun playing spy, but aren’t you taking it a little too far. You know, with the gun?”
“Oh, that. Everyone here has a gun. I was afraid without it, you wouldn’t take me seriously.”
“We do take you seriously, Norma,” Grinch said. “But we’ve got two hungry boys upstairs, waiting to be called to lunch. I’m sure you won’t mind if Elizabeth fixes something for them to eat while we wait. And speaking of waiting, how long are you going to be keeping us here?”
“Shouldn’t be long.” Norma glanced at her watch. For a moment, the gun tilted away. Elizabeth looked at Grinch. Was he going to grab it? He was closer, had longer arms. But what if it went off? No matter. It was only a second, and now the gun was pointed at her again.
Grinch’s hand pressed against hers. He’d seen.
Norma caught his gaze. Her formerly friendly eyes were blank. “If the plane was on time, he should be here shortly.”
“We’ll do what you want,” Elizabeth said. “Can’t you please put the gun away? The boys will come down any minute. Let me fix lunch. Please? Of course, you’re invited.”
Good lord, she’d been dragged over the edge. Offering a nut job with a gun lunch. She waited.
“I don’t know,” Norma said. “You’ve got a lot of potential weapons here. Rolling pins, heavy skillets. Knives.”
“I’ll make hot dogs,” Elizabeth said. “No cutting involved.”
Norma seemed to weigh the options. “I’m not sure. There’s that boiling water, you know.”
“I’ll nuke them,” Elizabeth said.
After a little more pondering, Norma agreed. “But make sure you don’t try anything. No fast moves.”
No fast moves? Now she was part of a bad B movie. Elizabeth raised her hands. “I promise. Hot dogs. Nothing else.”
Grinch seemed so … calm. He must be planning his moves. Chester. That was it. Any minute, he’d call Chester and give the kill command, and that would distract Norma, and Grinch would grab the gun. She went to the refrigerator and found the package of hot dogs.
“Tell me one thing, Norma,” Grinch said. “What did you do to Chester?”
Elizabeth heard the anger despite his obvious attempts to remain civil. Norma did something to Chester? So much for Chester coming to the rescue.
Norma huffed. “He’s fine. You know I’d never hurt an animal. He’s just napping. He’ll be right as rain when he wakes up.”
“M-o-m! When’s lunch?” Will’s voice was followed by clattering footfalls. “We’re hungry.”
Elizabeth turned to Norma. “Please. Don’t scare them.”
Norma smiled sweetly. “Of course not. I don’t believe in harming children any more than animals.” She lowered her hands to her lap. “Let’s remember I have this pointed at your boyfriend. I don’t think either of you would appreciate having those … special … parts blown off.”
Will scrambled into the kitchen, a rolled-up piece of drawing paper in his hand. He eyed Norma, then the platter of cookies, and grinned. “Hey, Dylan! The cookie lady is here.”
“Hello, Will,” Norma said. “I missed you and Dylan at the rec center today, so I thought I’d bring some cookies directly to you.”
Dylan clattered into the room, a grin bigger than Will’s spreading across his face when he saw Norma—or maybe it was the platter of cookies. “Hi, Cookie Lady,” he said.
“Hello, boys. I’m sure your mother won’t mind if you have a cookie,” Norma said. “But eat them at the table.”
Elizabeth stood, frozen, as the boys clambered into their chairs. Norma could have her gun pointed at any one of them. Dylan reached for a cookie.
“One minute,” Grinch said. “Company first.” He plucked a cookie from the container and handed it to Norma. “Excuse my fingers, but I’m sure you understand.”
She flipped a hand in a dismissive gesture before accepting it. “They’re perfectly good,” and took a large bite.
Had Grinch thought she’d have poisoned the cookies? That thought had never occurred to her. Then again, Elizabeth would never have thought Norma would point a gun at them, either.
Seemingly satisfied, Grinch said, “All right, boys.”
She sucked in a breath, stepped to the table and broke two cookies in half. She set one in front of each boy. “One piece now, the other after lunch.”
Norma didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to her—but then, why should she? She had the upper hand here—even if it was under the table. She sought Grinch’s gaze. He merely smiled. “I like mustard on my hot dog.”
Was that some sort of code? But then he added, “Boys?”
“Ketchup,” Dylan said.
“I like both,” Will said.
She guessed he meant she was supposed to play this out like nothing weird was going on. She set to the hot dog preparation, if you called microwaving them actual preparation. She placed the condiments on the table, along with a bag of chips and the jug of milk.
Although she was expecting it, the ringing doorbell nearly had her hitting the ceiling.
“I should get that,” Grinch said.
“No, I think it would be more fitting if Elizabeth answered the door,” Norma said. “And I’m sure she’ll be back in a few seconds.”
A threat if she’d ever heard one. Elizabeth shot Grinch a pleading glance and got another calming nod in return. Heart in her throat, she went to the door.
* * * * *
Grinch busied himself helping the boys with their hot dogs. “Would you like one, Norma?”
She shook her head. “No thanks. They don’t agree with m
e anymore. It’s such a bother getting old.”
Right. So you amuse yourself by intimidating innocent women. Much as he wanted to grill her like a hot dog, he wouldn’t risk the boys picking up on something. Or worse, setting her off and having her do something foolish. He still believed she was harmless, but he’d learned to be prepared for the worst. So he didn’t ask the dozens of questions swirling through his brain.
Hushed conversation came from the hall. Elizabeth and another voice. Male. Not one he recognized. Louder now. “I have the right to see him.”
Elizabeth returned, her face expressionless. Victor, appearing more haggard and years older than the pictures Grinch had seen, shoved through the doorway past her. Will stared at his father, then Elizabeth, utter confusion on his face. Then fear.
“Aren’t you going to say hi to your dad?” Victor asked.
Will shifted his gaze to Elizabeth, who nodded. Will said, “Hi,” only a few decibels above audible.
“Excuse me for not getting up,” Grinch said. “I’ve been asked to remain seated.”
“Not a problem,” Victor said. He addressed Norma. “I take it I have you to thank for reuniting me with my wife and son.”
“My pleasure,” Norma said. “Family reunions are such wonderful things, aren’t they?”
Victor grunted. “I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you have places to be.”
There was no question that she’d been dismissed. Or that she wasn’t happy about it. No more fun and games for Norma.
“I guess I’ll let myself out,” she said.
When she stood, Grinch noticed her hand in the pocket of her oversized vest, concealing her weapon. For that, he was grateful. Torn between accompanying her, with perhaps a mild throttling in the process, and leaving Elizabeth and the boys at Victor’s mercy, he let her go. But before she stepped away, he reached out and gripped her arm. She leaned closer.
“What did you give Chester?” he whispered.
She gave him the name of the drug. He recognized it as a sedative, one he remembered the team using more than once on rescue ops to subdue watchdogs. And Chester’s breathing had been steady and regular. Grinch believed her when she said the dog would be fine. He released her arm.
“Goodbye, boys,” she said.
“Goodbye, Cookie Lady,” Dylan said.
Will hadn’t taken his eyes off Victor. Grinch reached across the table and took Will’s hand. Victor caught the gesture and narrowed his eye at Grinch.
“So, Will,” Victor said, standing beside the boy. “What have you been up to? Have you been drawing?”
Will nodded, as if he wasn’t sure why his father was showing interest in his artwork. He unfurled the paper. “It’s a deerabearasaurus. From our camping trip.”
“Very nice,” Victor said, not even glancing at the page.
“I can play football, too,” Will said.
Grinch’s heart squeezed at the obvious attempt to please his father.
“Is that so?” Victor said. “You?” His tone held more scorn than surprise.
Will nodded. “Yep. Grinch showed me how to throw the old pigskin.” He threw Grinch a smile.
Grinch stood. Manufactured a pleasant enough expression. Extended his hand. “Mark Grinciewicz. They call me Grinch.”
Victor glared at Elizabeth. “You’ve been staying here?”
“Only temporarily,” she said, her voice low. “Mr. Grinciewicz was kind enough to give us a place to stay when lightning hit our house. And for the boys—they’ve been getting along.” Her speech accelerated. “But the house is fixed now, and we were going to go back right away. We’d already be back, but Mrs. Fitzsimmons came over.”
Grinch set his back teeth and jammed his hands into his pockets to keep from decking Victor right there, boys or no boys. Victor had been in the house for all of three minutes, and Elizabeth was already cowering.
“I’ll see to it that they get back,” Grinch said.
“That’s kind of you, but it won’t be necessary.” Victor kept his focus on Elizabeth. “I have a car. Julie Ann, get your things.”
With downcast eyes and a brusque nod, Elizabeth brushed passed Grinch and rushed upstairs.
Once again, he resisted the urge to accompany Elizabeth. No way on this earth would he leave Dylan and Will alone with Victor.
“Is he your real daddy?” Dylan whispered to Will.
Will nodded.
“So you have to go with him?”
“I … guess so.”
“My real daddy’s in heaven,” Dylan said. “But Grinch is taking care of me. Maybe he’ll take care of you, too.”
When Will turned his round eyes to Grinch, speaking was impossible. He blinked away the heat rising behind his eyes. He rested a hand on Will’s shoulder and squeezed.
Elizabeth’s footfalls thumped on the stairs, the clatter of her wheeled suitcase behind her. She set it at Victor’s feet, pivoted and went upstairs again. This time, she came down with a box filled with Will’s possessions. On top sat Billy Bear with his worn fur and glass-eyed stare. Will looked at the bear, then at Grinch.
Grinch smiled and tousled Will’s hair. “Take care of him,” Grinch whispered.
The faintest hint of a smile played at the corner of Will’s mouth as he took the box. “I will.”
“Will, get in the car,” Victor said.
Will snapped to attention at Victor’s command. He started toward the door.
Victor grabbed Will’s shoulder. “Where are your manners, boy? Say thank you to your host.”
Will spun around. “Thank you.” His eyes glistened, but not with the excitement and happiness Grinch had seen before. These were tears, plain and simple, and the boy was doing everything he could not to let them fall.
Grinch took Dylan by the hand. “Let’s go say goodbye.”
“Will can come back and play, right?” Dylan asked.
Grinch tucked his fingers under Will’s chin, capturing his gaze. “Any time. And I’ll be picking you up tomorrow morning for the rec center.”
Victor turned, eyes blazing. “I think that’s my decision.”
Grinch shook his head. “As long as your decision is the right one, fine. The boys are enrolled in camp at the rec center. They’re going. I’ll be there at eight-thirty. Sharp.” He smiled at Will. “You’ll be ready, won’t you, sport?”
“Yes.” Another hint of a smile returned.
Grinch extended a hand to Victor. The man accepted the handshake. Grinch bore down. Met Victor’s gaze. Watched him try not to wince. “Take care of them,” he said. “Or you’ll answer to me.” He released Victor’s hand.
Victor narrowed his eyes, clearly assessing his opponent, then just as clearly, admitted defeat. He nodded. “Mr. Grinciewicz. Eight-thirty. Thank you for watching out for them.”
Elizabeth put her bag in the trunk, then lowered herself into the passenger seat of Victor’s Cadillac. She stared straight ahead. Grinch draped his arm across Dylan’s shoulder and watched them drive away.
He sent Dylan inside to finish his lunch, then reached into his pocket for his cell phone. An open line was better than wearing a wire.
“Jinx. You get all that?”
Chapter 34
Elizabeth hunched low in the seat as Victor drove—too fast for the mountain road. She checked her seatbelt and gripped the handle inside the passenger door. Saying anything to Victor would only make him mad—and most likely determined to demonstrate how fast he could go.
At least it wasn’t a helicopter. Then again, she’d rather be in a helicopter with Grinch as pilot than sitting in this car at the mercy of Victor’s driving.
Had she thought that? She’d rather be in a helicopter? Before she could mull it over, the tires skidded on the loose gravel at the entry to her driveway.
“I can’t imagine what possessed you to live in a place like this, Julie Ann,” Victor said. When she didn’t respond, he snapped. “Aren’t you going to answer me? I mean, you’d think they
’d at least pave the roads.”
She realized she hadn’t registered that he was addressing her. She’d come to think of herself only as Elizabeth. Or Lizzie, but Victor didn’t need to know her new nickname.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think you wanted an answer.” Especially one that said she’d picked a place as far away from the world Victor inhabited as possible. “And the main roads are paved. It’s only driveways and some of the side streets that aren’t.”
“It’s moot. You’ll be coming home with me.” He braked to a stop, got out of the car and stormed to the front porch, not seeming to care that she and Will hadn’t followed. He twisted the knob, then realized he was dependent on her for the key. He turned toward the car, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently.
Her stomach twisted like a platter of spaghetti.
“Mom?” Will said from the backseat.
She couldn’t bear to turn, afraid to face what she knew she’d see in his eyes. “Yes?”
“Are we going back with Daddy? I like it here.”
“I like it here, too. For now, let’s pretend that we agree with everything your dad says. He’s in a bad mood, so we’ll try to keep things calm and happy until he’s feeling better. Can you do that for me?”
“Okay.” The resigned sigh tore at Elizabeth’s heart. Will knew the drill all too well.
“Grab your box, and I’ll unlock the door.” That is, if Olivia had left the keys under the mat, as she’d said she would. Elizabeth crossed mental fingers that she’d remembered. All she needed now was to tell Victor she didn’t have a key. She hurried to the porch. “Key should be under the mat.”
“Which is the first place any two-bit crook would look. What kind of an idiot are you?”
“I had a … house sitter,” she said. “While they were doing the repairs. I told her to leave the key here, and this place isn’t like back … home.” That last word burned her throat. “There’s hardly any crime, and normally, I have my keys with me.”
Victor stepped aside, she lifted the mat, holding her breath that the keys were there. They were. Okay, so that was one thing that had gone right. She unlocked the door. “I’ll go get the suitcase.” Leaving Victor, she went back to the car, where Will waited, clutching the box to his chest.