Dark Justice(81)

My mother’s eyes were wild. “She’s a Bad Person, isn’t she?”

Ashley returned, Rawly in her hand. “I already looked at it.” Her bitter words were aimed at Nance. “There’s nothing here.”

“Cut it open.”

“What? No!”

“Cut it open.”

“Mommy?” A child’s voice filtered from down the hall.

Ashley gasped. In an instant she spun, the dog dropped from her hands, and ran toward the sound.

“Stop!” Nance yelled.

A door slammed. Locked.

Ashley had left us to our fate.

For a second, Nance focused on the wall, mouth tight. I could sense the question in her mind—was there a phone in that little girl’s bedroom?

Not likely.

She turned a dark look on me. “Get the toy.”

I picked it up.

“Cut it open.”

“Let my mother go first.”

“Cut. It. Open!” Her arm tightened around Mom. My mother gave a stifled cry.

Forget my guilt about killing anyone—I would hurt this young woman. One wrong move on her part, and I’d be on her. No one could treat my mother like this.

“I’ll do it.” Emily grabbed the dog from me as if it deserved to die and stalked across the room, ignoring her hurt knee. She whirled back toward Nance, her eyes glassed with anger, neck taut. “When you get what you want—go. Leave my grandmother alone. The police want to arrest my mother anyway. And the world’s going dark tonight. You’ll be safe to do whatever evil things you want.” Emily stomped out of sight and into the kitchen. I heard a knife slide from a butcher block.

Outside a car door slammed.

Nance stiffened. “See who it is.”

No, not now. Maybe, maybe if Emily found the encryption key, Ashley would let us go. We could be so close to safety. I moved to the front curtain and nudged it back.

Sergeant Wade was sliding out of a sheriff’s department vehicle.





Chapter 53


Who is it?” Nance demanded.

My heartbeat stalled. How much did God expect of me on this never-ending day?

“Who?”

“Sergeant Wade.”

Fright crisscrossed Nance’s face. Had she leapt over the terrorists’ chain of authority in bringing us here?

“Don’t make a sound.” Nance kept the gun barrel against my mother’s temple.

The doorbell rang, followed by a hard knock.

Emily appeared from the kitchen, a large knife in her hands. She looked at me, wide-eyed.

Wade, I mouthed.

She drew back, her gaze flicking to her grandmother.

Another knock.

What must Ashley Eddington be thinking, trapped in the bedroom with her daughter?

A third knock. We all stood, transfixed. Nance just might let us go, save her own skin. Wade never would.

It fell quiet on the porch. Please go away.

Vague steps on the sidewalk. Did I hear muted voices?

Silence. Wade had left.

Air once more entered my lungs. Thank You, God.

Nance focused on Emily. “Bring the dog in here. Get it done.”

My daughter shot her a look to kill and disappeared once more.

I understood then. Since Ashley Eddington hadn’t let him inside, Wade could not let his cover be blown. Nance would take the heat. Who would believe our accusations against her? Or those of a grieving widow who couldn’t think straight?

Emily hurried back into the room and threw the dog on the table. She set down the knife, ripped off its red-and-white kerchief. Turned it all directions, examining it.

Nance watched, muscles tense. “Anything?”

“No.”

“Cut it.”

Emily snatched up the knife and plunged it into Rawly. Drew it down the length of his belly. In a frenzy she tore out stuffing, throwing it all around. I watched the knife divide and splice, knowing she wanted the toy to be Nance.

The dog’s fluffy stomach revealed no hidden paper.

“Keep going!” Nance’s face reddened.

Emily started on the limbs, cutting them off one by one. Nothing in the right leg. Or the left.

“Come on, come on.” I muttered the words under my breath, gaze jumping from the dog to my mother. Her eyes met mine, fear-filled and spent.

“What is she doing?” Mom’s voice ebbed. “Emily.”

She’s trying to save you. “Almost done, Mom. I promise.”

Emily moved to the toy’s arms. Off came the right one. She cut it down the middle, splayed it apart. Out came more stuffing.

Nothing.

Sweat beaded my daughter’s forehead.

She drove the knife deep into the left shoulder, separating the last arm. Pulled it to pieces. I could feel the heat coming off her, the will to find something. To stuff the piece of paper into Nance’s fingers and pull her grandmother into her own embrace.

The arm lay shredded. No encryption key.