She pulled her torn and blood soaked shirt back down.
June went around to the man’s head, grabbed a hold of his collar and dragged him into the middle of the floor. She had one last plastic tie in her pocket and used it on his wrists behind his back. She felt for a pulse at his neck and found one, then listened to his breathing. It was good enough as far as she was concerned. Alive anyway. Just as she was picking up her phone to dial 9-1-1 for the police again, she heard sirens outside the house. Her earlier anonymous call in the bathroom had worked.
She opened the front door to see a black and white patrol car angle parked at the curb. The cop got out, stayed behind his door, his pistol in his hand.
“It’s alright now. Just bring lots of handcuffs.” She got another spasm in her ribs and had to lean against the doorjamb to stay upright. “And an ambulance would be good.”
June turned around and tried taking a deep breath. She heard a new round of crying in the bedroom and couldn’t put off her nieces any longer. Walking to the guest bedroom, her phone rang with her sister’s new number.
“Having fun?” Amy asked when June answered the call.
“Something like that.” June had no idea of what to say when she pushed the bedroom door open, either to the kids or to her sister. But they ran to her, pressing their faces into her body to hide their tears. With her free arm, she hugged them close to her. “But something has come up. Maybe you should come pick up the kids. It seems I’m not such a good babysitter after all.”