Authors: Colby Marshall
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Women Sleuths, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Psychological Thrillers, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Psychological
Ayana.
Jenna lowered her Glock.
Only one way to play this.
Jenna walked out, gun at the floor, and faced her mother.
“Aren’t you going to ask your friend to join us?” Claudia asked.
Her mother sat on the floor with Ayana in her lap. Ay sucked calmly on her pacifier and flipped pages in
If You Give a Mouse a Cookie
. Hank’s gun lay beside Claudia’s knee within easy grasp of her right hand. “And please, do put the gun down. It’s always awkward to talk holding them, and we both know who has the upper hand right now.”
Jenna squatted to place her gun on the floor.
“Where’s Dad?”
Claudia turned a page of Ayana’s book with her left hand, pointed at a picture. “Ooh, look a there! He’s drawing a picture!” Then she turned coldly to Jenna. “It depends. Where’s your friend?”
“Yancy,” Jenna croaked.
Yancy stepped around the corner. No gun.
Claudia’s eyes hit Yancy’s leg first, then roamed up to his face. “Oho! You’ve really matched yourself well this time, huh, Jenna? It’s okay. Didn’t like the other one anyway, even if he did give us this
precious
angel.” Claudia kissed the top of Ayana’s blond head, eyes never leaving Jenna’s face.
“Dad,” Jenna said, fighting for even tone.
“Oh, right. Your father. He’s, um, resting
comfortably
in the bedroom,” Claudia replied. Her head gave a little toss to indicate the room to her right.
Jenna felt her composure slip, and she frowned.
Please, no.
“Oh, not to worry. He’s not dead. Yet.”
“Claudia—”
“Jenna, haven’t you ever heard that little ditty about honoring thy father
and
thy mother? Really. I’m hurt.”
“What have you done to Dad?”
Stop talking to her this way. You know you won’t get a thing out of her if you rise to the taunts. She enjoys it too much.
Claudia didn’t answer. Instead she pointed out another picture to Ayana, who laughed and clapped her hands.
“See, Jenna? Most children like me. You were an extreme exception.”
Bile rose in Jenna’s throat, and her hands tried hard not to form tight fists.
Ask a better question.
“How long does Dad have?”
Claudia tilted her head. “Long enough, if someone gets him to the hospital. Fast.”
“Will you let me check on him?” Jenna asked.
Stupid question.
Claudia laughed. “No. But . . .” Her eyes trailed back to Yancy, down to his leg, and back to Jenna again. “I’d rather the business we have to, um, take care of . . . be attended to with . . . just family.”
She winked.
“Are you saying Yancy can take Dad?” Jenna asked.
Jenna glanced to Yancy, then back to Claudia, unwilling to go too long without keeping an eye on her.
“Ooh! Quick on the uptake. That’s what I love
and
hate about you, Jenna. Smart girl.”
Jenna chanced another look at Yancy, whose gaze was locked on Claudia. God, she wished they had a plan.
“Tick tock, Jenna.”
“Yancy, go.”
“Jenna—”
“Go now!” she demanded. The thought of losing her only ally was rough, but losing Dad was way worse. Jenna probably wasn’t thinking clearly, but it was the best chance they had. Plus, once out, Yancy could tell Saleda and Richards the layout of the living room, where Claudia was sitting, holding Ayana. Might be enough to give the SWAT team a tactical advantage.
Yancy skulked toward the bedroom, then disappeared. A long minute later, he reentered the room supporting an unconscious Vern over his shoulders, fireman style.
“Wolverine here has more oomph than I gave him credit for!” Claudia said, amused.
Yancy shot Claudia a look but continued to drag Vern toward the front door. Jenna’s father looked ghastly, his face the color of the whitewash of the walls.
Yancy wobbled under Vern’s weight. As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned his full back to Claudia. Yancy made a show of steadying himself, but Jenna found his face. His eyes were locked on her even though he continued to teeter for effect. His gaze cut sharp to the bedroom, back, then again. Then Yancy glared at Vern’s pant leg. There, tucked in Vern’s pocket, was a hand towel. The canary color Jenna saw so many times when she knew someone or something was part of something even when she didn’t know the meaning flashed in. Relevance.
Then Yancy was gone.
“Ah. That’s better. Now that it’s the two of us, we can catch up a bit.”
Play to her.
“I have to admit I’m impressed you found the place.”
“Wasn’t that hard, Jenna. Hank E. Poo left me more than enough tools.”
Jenna’s mind cast a net for an idea.
Come on, come on!
Then the words caught up to her, and purple ego flashed in. Of course Claudia would be ready to talk about her crimes. To this point, she hadn’t gotten to brag to anyone. She’d been too busy keeping her nonexistent mental disorder secret. She was probably dying to tell someone how she’d managed it. If Claudia and Isaac had one thing in common, it was their penchant for narcissism. All good sociopaths had it. All Claudia needed was a little nudge.
Jenna nodded to Ayana. “I know she’s small, but she has ears. If you ever do anything for me, let it be this.”
Claudia regarded Jenna with shrewd eyes. Then, for whatever reason, she nodded. “True. I somehow doubt hearing—or seeing—this will do me any favors should she end up growing up like her mother . . .”
The woman rose, leaving Ayana to sit with her book. The little girl glanced up, confused, then looked to Jenna.
“It’s okay, baby.” Then, to Claudia, “Can’t we at least put her in her crib where she’s safe?”
“Be thankful for small miracles, Jenna,” Claudia said. She gestured toward the bedroom with the gun.
Jenna walked that direction, nerves jittery. She’d only have one chance.
When they were in the next room, Jenna sat on the edge of the bed. “So come on, Claudia. You’re dying to. Tell me how it went down with Hank.”
Claudia cackled. “Wouldn’t you rather hear about something else, Jenna? You’ve always been so morbid.”
“You’re planning to kill me anyway, right? You wouldn’t leave me alive. You know I’m the only one capable of putting you away again. So I figure I give myself a fighting chance if we keep talking.”
“And the other agents rush in and save the day, huh? That’s a nice fantasy.”
“Oh, give it a try. You like games. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t have chanced leaving the key. I could’ve easily sent someone else.”
“If you think you know me, Jenna, would it blow your mind to hear that everything I’ve done, I’ve done because I knew you would show up here and not someone else?”
“In other words, I’m the only one you’ll
get
to brag to for a while. Let it out.”
Claudia smirked, shrugged. “Hank E. Poo came by the apartment before you. I intended to see you first. Turned out just as well. Wouldn’t have had a chance to say hullo to Hank if it hadn’t gone that way. Fate and all that.”
Jenna fought tears at the image of Hank lying dead in her apartment. Vern, who’d looked so pale moments before as Yancy carried him out.
“I take it Hank didn’t see you right away?”
“Aw! The sniffles are adorable, Jenna. You’d almost think you cared about Hank E. Poo. Ha. Yes. I waited for him. Had a chance to look over my file, too, by the way. Impressive.”
The file had been in the bathroom. Jenna had it in there last, looking over it in a hot bubble bath. Hank must’ve gone in to retrieve it.
“So you hid, waited. I get that part. How’d you manage his gun?”
Claudia let out a vicious giggle. “Men. So predictable. He actually went in the bathroom
without
it. I guess even time-sensitive issues are nothing compared to the call of nature and taking a nice, luxurious crap.”
Jenna winced.
What a horrible way to—
“Unsnapped himself, left his holster on the bed with his keys, wallet, and phone. You’d practically think you two were still married and he was nothing but an amateur security guard, the way it went down. No dignity about it, really. He closed the bathroom door all but a crack. I snapped off a text or six to the agent in charge at the safe house to gather some information to find the place. They really should prep those guys better, you know. I was ready for Hank when he came out.”
“How did you get past the door if it was cracked? That’s good even for you, considering the apartment layout,” Jenna pushed.
“Not really, Jenna. All you have to do is crawl across the bed and not go around it. We evil geniuses come up with out-of-the-box things like that,” she said dryly.
“Wouldn’t work.”
“Oh, really?” Claudia asked.
“Couldn’t. That bathroom has too much of a wide-angle view.”
Claudia squinted at Jenna for a second, then moved toward the bathroom side of this bedroom. Jenna was counting on Claudia’s penchant for dramatics taking her over. It had always been part of her charm.
“This bathroom is set about the same way, dearie.”
“True, and there’s no way to escape the view from there, either.”
Claudia rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid enough to turn my back on you while I go in this bathroom to try it out, Jenna. Sorry.”
“Fine. But you’re still wrong.”
“Ugh,” Claudia groaned. She motioned toward the bathroom with the gun. “In.”
Jenna went inside, and as expected, Claudia pulled the door until only a small crack remained.
“See?” Claudia said. “We didn’t have to make it this difficult, but since you asked.”
Jenna reached for the bulge in the towel crumpled on the floor, discarded from someone’s previous shower. She’d eyed it the moment she’d walked in the bedroom. She and Yancy had texted about the light blue towel, the towel he’d tucked in Vern’s pants pocket.
Her hand found something hard, grabbed it. She could hear sirens in the distance wailing, coming to help her.
The door creaked back open, and Jenna planted Yancy’s infamous hidden leg gun right in Claudia’s chest.
“Was it like this?” Jenna asked.
And she fired once, twice, a third time.
Claudia staggered backward, thrown off balance. Then Claudia looked down at her chest, clutched it, staggered toward the living room.
Ayana!
Jenna jumped to get between Claudia and the living room, gun trained on Claudia, but in the split second she’d taken to move around the door, Claudia aimed at Jenna. Her shot was wide, but it hit Jenna directly in the left shin, which collapsed underneath her as she came down on it. Jenna fell back onto her right, and her head clocked the dresser. She slid down it, her vision spinning. The fall shook her, and her grip on the gun slackened.
Claudia kicked the gun away from Jenna’s hand and stood over her.
“Yahtzee,” Claudia said, calmer than ever. She lifted her shirt to reveal a Kevlar vest. “You didn’t check Hank E. Poo close enough, I guess. In case it’s relevant for you to know, he removes his outerwear as well as his holster for more comfortable potty breaks. I find these vests are much more effective hidden.”
Jenna’s leg burned, and pain shot up her thigh and radiated into her stomach, her head on fire. She felt Claudia close.
Her mother’s breath was hot on her ear. The sirens so close but so far away.
“I have to be going now, sweet daughter. But I’ll make you a deal. I’ll leave you alone if you leave me,” Claudia whispered.
Claudia stood above Jenna.
Get to the gun
.
She tried to roll over and couldn’t. Her stomach threatened to hurl its contents.
“I don’t believe you,” Jenna mustered.
Claudia’s hand at her pocket, taking Jenna’s phone, keys. Her mother was nothing but a silhouette in the door in Jenna’s blurry eyes.
“I don’t either. That’s the fun of it,” Claudia replied.
Then everything went black.
W
hen Jenna woke up, she was in the same hospital where she’d met Yancy, where she’d left Charley only hours ago. She blinked a few times into the fluorescents above her, groaned. Her head felt like it would implode.
She tried to sit up but was met with pressure from a hand on either shoulder. “Settle down, hoss.”
Yancy stood above her, worry in his eyes.
“Ayana?” she forced out of the dry thickness that was her throat.
“She’s fine. Perfectly fine. Not a scratch on her. She’s with Charley right now. He’s not on full babysitting duty again just yet, but he’s up and about. The nurses can’t keep him in that bed longer than five minutes at a time. Only way they could get him to be still was to put Ayana in the bed with him and force him to read to her.”
“Dad?”
“No, he’s not reading to her,” Yancy said.
“Don’t mess with me, Yancy.”
“Sorry, sorry. Bad time for humor. No, Vern’s . . . not perfect. Claudia overdosed him, they think, using psychiatric medications she found at Lyra Mintelle’s. Though how she got them in him, we might not know until he wakes up.”