Alive, keep them alive. It was all she had.
“That’s right, you bitch. You can’t do anything. I’m in charge. I’m always in charge. Hey, did you like the flowers?”
“No.”
He’d gone back to the blond hair, but it no longer shone, and the cut was uneven, choppy. She could see he’d put on makeup, and where he’d rubbed at it, the redness—too much desert sun—came through. He no longer looked fit and stylish, but doughy and rumpled.
He had an ugly scar on his arm, puckered and puffy.
She tried to remember everything Jen had taught her. She couldn’t run. No one would hear her scream. She couldn’t hide.
She promised herself she’d fight if she got the chance.
He’d played her once, she thought. She’d play him now.
“You wanted to scare me. You did. You want to scare me now. You are. I can’t be worth the risk you’re taking, Gavin. I’m nobody.”
“You ruined my life.”
“I didn’t—”
She broke off when the phone in her pocket signaled a text. And the gun he held pointed—rock steady now—at her face.
Slowly, she lifted her hands. “It’s my phone. In my pocket. I won’t touch it.”
“Who the hell’s calling you? It’s two in the morning.”
“It’s a text—that’s a text. It’s nothing. I won’t touch it.”
He took one step back, jammed the gun under her mother’s chin. “Who’d text you at two in the morning? Fuck with me, I blow her head off.”
“All right. Please. It’s my fiancé. I text him when I get home, to let him know I’m home. Don’t hurt her, Gavin. I’m telling you, if I don’t text back I’m okay, he’ll call the cops. You don’t want that. I’ll show you. Let me show you.”
“Bring me the fucking phone.”
“I’m reaching for it. I’m going to give it to you.”
But his hands held the gun, the knife. She counted on it, so held out the screen so he could read the text from Miles.
Where the hell are you?
“Asshole. Answer. Stand right here where I can see what you say. Fuck around and find out, Morgan.”
“I won’t. She’s my mother. I won’t.”
“Yeah? I killed my mother. Fuck around and you kill yours.
sorry. She kept the screen angled so he could see. closing took a little longer but im home now say good night to howl and get some sleep love you.
“Who the fuck is Howl?”
“It’s his dog.” Letting tears swirl, Morgan blurted it out when he jerked her mother’s head back. “It’s just his dog. It’s just something we say. He’d wonder if I didn’t. Please. I did what you told me to do.”
The phone signaled again. Praying, her hand shaking now, Morgan held the screen for Rozwell to read.
I’ll do that. Good night.
He heard me, she thought. He heard me.
“Drop the phone.”
When she did, he stomped on it.
“Now unless you want my finger to twitch, step back.”
* * *
Miles was out of his house and in his car within thirty seconds.
* * *
As Morgan sent the text, Beck and Morrison got off the plane in Middlebury.
The head of the ground crew greeted them. “FBI. Coming in late.”
“Weather in Indianapolis, delayed takeoff.”
“Yeah, we got word on that. They sent a car for you.” He gestured, then handed them the key fob. “We’ll get your bags loaded in for you.”
“The resort’s what, twenty, twenty-five minutes out, right?” Morrison asked.
“This time of night, twenty’ll do it. Funny thing. You’re the second private to come in from Indianapolis tonight. First one got out before the weather.”
“Wait.” Beck gripped his arm. “You had another private out of Indianapolis? How many passengers?”
“Just the one. Some dude. Rich dude. Had a Mercedes C-Class rental waiting. Hey! Your bags!” he shouted as they raced for the car.
“Call Chief Dooley.” Beck jumped behind the wheel.
“I’m on it.”
* * *
As he sped through town, Miles called Jake.
“He’s got her.”
“What? Nathan reported in. He watched her go in the house just minutes ago.”
“He’s got her. He’s inside. Get there.”
“Wait for me.”
“No.”
“Goddamn it.” Jake dragged on clothes. And so did Nell.