He finally tossed the phone aside. “I still can’t find a number for the woman. Maybe I should go get a pizza?”
“What is this, a pajama party?” Reagan asked. He asked Georgie for the phone and it was tossed to him. He began scrolling through numbers, June watching him.
“Just let me go in the kitchen to make sandwiches for them,” June offered. “It won’t take any more than five minutes, and then you can tie me up again.”
Clinton snorted a sharp laugh out his nose. “Sure, so you can get a gun you have hid in there? Or a knife?” He laughed again. “That ain’t gonna happen.”
“Okay, you can come and watch. Since you’re so helpless, I’ll even teach you how to make a sandwich. You wouldn’t even have to undo the zip ties on me.”
“She’s up to something, Clinton,” Reagan said from the living room easy chair. “Don’t trust her.”
“You’re hungry, aren’t you Clinton?” she said to him. “I bet a strong guy like you gets hungry a lot.”
“I’m a little hungry too,” Georgie said.
“Fine. We’ll get a pizza for all you ladies, just so y’all don’t start cryin’. Is there someplace around here that delivers?” Reagan finally said.
“Not here in the hills,” said June back to him. “There’s a place down the road at the base of the canyon that has take out. One of your clowns can go pick it up. I’ll even pay.”
Clinton took a handful of her hair in his fist and twisted it around, wrenching her head sideways. “You’re in no position to do any name callin’, understand?”
“Just trying to get you something to eat…” she said, grimacing.
“Knock it off, Clinton.” Reagan tossed the phone down on the table again. “I don’t want either of you being away for that long to pick up a pizza from town.”
Clinton let loose of her hair and tossed her down again.
“I saw a minimart down the road a few blocks,” Georgie offered. “I could swing down there and be back in just a few minutes.”
June craned her head up to look in Georgie’s direction. She had to keep her agenda moving forward. “Get money from my purse. They have sandwiches there. And get some juice also.”
“Can I, Reagan?” asked Georgie.
“Yeah, fine, whatever. Just don’t drag your feet. As soon as we get that combination, you and I are out of here.”
Georgie went to the things dumped from June’s purse on the desk, and got her wallet. June watched him, not at his hands picking though her money, but in fear that he might find Amy’s new phone number written on the desk pad of paper. He stayed focused on her money, wadding all her cash and stuffing it in his pocket.
Reagan picked up the phone and began scrolling again. June watched Georgie reach for the front door knob.
“I wouldn’t open that door if I were you,” June called from across the room.
Reagan looked up. Georgie froze and turned. “Why?”
June had to think fast, only hatching the idea that moment. The biggest problem in getting her idea to work was to make it sound plausible. “When you came into the house through the door and then closed it, it activated the alarm system.”
“So?” Reagan asked.
“So, see that little red light on the alarm system control box?” All their eyes went to the alarm box mounted on the wall next to the front door. “That means the system wasn’t set properly, and will send a message to the authorities if the door is opened again. Now, if you let me have use of a hand, I can reset it.”
“Fuck you,” Clinton said in a drawn out way. He remained leaning against the wall. “Nice try.”
“But what if there’s a fire and you’re just running out the door? How does it know which authorities to send the message?” Georgie asked.
“The alarm has a carbon monoxide monitor and smoke alarm built in. If it doesn’t sense smoke and the door opens, the message is sent to a security agency, and then to the police. You’d get out of the house but not down the hill before the cops were coming up. There just isn’t much traffic on the road down at this time of the afternoon.”
“Yeah, but how do we know it wasn’t set correctly? You could be lying to us,” Clinton said.
“Have I lied to you yet? Every step of the way I’ve cooperated, right? Anyway, if it was set properly with the right code number, a little green light would show.”
Clinton rushed to behind her. He sank his fingers into her hair and wrenched her head around, twisting her neck hard. “You fucking with us, bitch?”