Maggie’s eyes went wide.
“Yeah, that’s right.” He moved the guns to her forehead. “Two bullets, one for each of you, Maggie Nesbitt or Margo Kenyon, whoever you are.”
Maggie felt her heart thump. He was going to do it.
“Mr. Nighthyde, wait!” Ponytail said.
“And who the fuck are you guys?” Horace spun around. Now he had a gun trained on each of them.
Maggie let out a quiet sigh.
“We were following Mrs. Kenyon, in case you needed some help disposing of her,” Ponytail said.
“Striker ask you to do that?” Horace Nighthyde said.
“We are only to assist. You are in charge,” Ponytail said.
“Just so we know,” Horace said. Maggie thought he sounded like a puffed up peacock. Ponytail was buttering him up and he was falling for it. However he didn’t lower the guns.
“But we have more problems now. The woman has told others. We must find out how much.”
“You mean her faggot friend?”
“Yes, and now there may even be another who knows. There seems to be no end to it. If we don’t act right away, Mr. Striker might be hearing about himself on the local news. That, my friend, would make him very unhappy.”
“You’re not my friend.” Horace Nighthyde held the guns steady, but at least they were pointed at the Japanese men and not at Maggie and Gay.
“It was a figure of speech. We followed these two while they took the man you injured in Huntington Beach to a place in Belmont Shore. Curiously enough, it’s above the bar where you left the body of her twin sister. Now we have to go there and find out how much they know and deal with it.”
“Right.” Now Horace Nighthyde looked confused.
“My companion will go with you while I stay and watch over them.” Ponytail pointed a stiff finger toward Maggie.
Scarface started toward the door as if he expected Horace Nighthyde to follow.
“I didn’t see a car when I came in.” Now Horace sounded wary.
“We left it at the end of the block, behind theirs, across from the park.”
“Anything in it?” Horace hadn’t moved toward the door, didn’t look as if he wanted to go with Scarface.
“Our weapons,” Ponytail said. “We didn’t want to walk the street after dark with them, just in case we ran into a curious policeman, but they’re locked in the truck.”
“You should bring the car here, park it in the driveway,” Horace said to Ponytail. He seemed more irritated than angry now. “You can come with us and drive it back.”
“What about them?” Again Ponytail pointed at Maggie.
“You did them up fine. They won’t be going anywhere. Besides, you can be back in less than five.” Now Horace started for the door. “Are you guys coming or what?”
The two Japanese followed him out. Scarface first, without a look back, then Ponytail. He turned, looked into Maggie’s eyes and winked.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Ma is up. Tell me where you are.” The blind woman’s voice slurred through the kitchen. She sounded demented. Maggie remembered her strength, had no desire to mess with her again. “I know you’re here.” The woman was at the kitchen door. She was big, with ketchup red hair, curly and long, uncontrolled, a wild mane, swirling as Ma jerked her massive head back and forth. No ferret face on this woman. If anything, she was a grizzly.
“That’s right, they taped your mouth. But not to worry, I can find you.”
The old woman grunted, as if in pain, as she went to a drawer by the sink. She opened it, pulled out a giant knife, serrated, sharp, gleaming in the kitchen light. Still grunting, she moved toward Maggie.
Maggie took in air through her nose, held her breath. She pushed with her bound feet against the floor. The chair screeched as she backed away from the crazy woman. She was sure Ma was about to finish what Horace Nighthyde and his Yakuza thugs had started.
“Don’t be afraid.” Ma held up the knife she clutched in her right hand. “It’s for the tape.” She had her left hand in front of herself, fingers moving like stubby worms. She found Maggie’s head, fingered through her hair, found the tape. She jerked it off.
“Ouch!” Maggie said.
“Better to do it quick,” Ma said. “The way doctors do. Otherwise the hurt lingers.”
“That’s alright, I’m just glad it’s off.”
“Hold up your hands.”
“I can’t, they taped them behind my back.”
“Okay.” Ma felt along Maggie’s shoulder, down her arms, found the tape and sliced through it. “Take it now.” She held out the knife. “You can do the rest.”
Maggie took it, cut off the tape that bound her feet to the chair. She winced as the blood rushed to them. Her wrists hurt too. She dropped the knife on the floor, massaged her ankles.
“Hmmmm.” It was Gay, humming through the tape to get Maggie’s attention.
“Oh, sorry.” Maggie picked up the knife again, cut Gay loose. But she let Gay pull off the tape wrapped around her neck and mouth.
“Christ,” Gay said, once she had it off. “That really sucked.”
“Yeah,” Maggie said.
“You have to hurry, one of them’s gonna be coming back,” Ma said.
“Are you okay?” Gay said.
“I’m old, I’m blind, I’m an epileptic with cancer. No, I’m not okay. What are you, stupid?”
“Why did you do this?” Maggie said. “You know, cut us free after we broke into your house?”
“He thought I was out like a dumb light bulb, my boy Horace. He was wrong. Used to be when one of them fits was over, I’d be out for two-three hours after.” Her words were slow, labored. “But I learned I recover quicker if I just go with it when I feel one coming on.” Her breathing seemed to be getting better as she spoke. “I feel like an old whore left to die in the snow.” She laughed at her joke. “But I ain’t no whore. I know when right’s right and wrong’s wrong.” She was serious now. “I heard what he said, my boy. All this time I thought he was working for the district attorney, doing good, and he was doing the Devil’s work.”
Outside, they heard a car pull up in the driveway.
“It’s not one I recognize,” Ma said. “So it must be that man coming back. You should go out the back way. Shimmy over the fence. He won’t know which way you went, the neighbors on either side or the ones behind.”
“We’re not gonna leave you to him.” Maggie remembered the man’s leer. “We’ll surprise him when he comes in the front door.”
“No!” Ma said. “I can handle it. You go. Now!”
Maggie heard a car door opening. “But-”
“No buts, get on outta here.” Ma stamped her foot. Her jaw was firm.
“She’s right,” Gay said. “We can’t leave you here.”
“No one’s gonna hurt me. My boy will see to that. But I wouldn’t give a tinker’s damn for your chances if you don’t get out of here right now!”
Maggie heard footsteps coming up the porch and all of a sudden she remembered what Ponytail had said about the children. They were going to kill them all. Gordon, Jonas, Jasmine and Sonya.
“We’re going!” Maggie grabbed Gay’s arm and started toward the back door.
“What?” Gay said.
The front door started to open.
“Now!” Maggie jerked on Gay’s arm, propelled her toward the back door.
“I’ll hold him off.” Ma started toward the living room.
Maggie heard a crash behind her as she followed Gay through the service porch. They were moving fast, fueled by fear. Gay got the door open, then they were in the yard, running toward the back fence.
They were at it when a gunshot tore through the night. They stopped, turned back toward the house.
“Ma,” Maggie said.
“Shit,” Gay said.
“He killed her,” Maggie said.
“We can’t do anything.” Gay gasped out the words as she sucked air. “We gotta go.”
“He’s coming!”
Ponytail was in the service porch now, backlit by the kitchen light behind and framed by the doorway. He had a pistol in his hand and he was pointing it at them. He was going to shoot.
“Come on!” Gay was halfway over the fence when a gunshot rang out. Rocky fragments blasted into Maggie’s arm as she scurried over the wall. He’d shot into the fence, missing her by inches.