By the time the fifth box was loaded, Lorraine was exhausted. Her pace slowed.
As she backed out of the van after the eighth one, a pickup truck passed on Huff Street. Lorraine carved to a stop, chest heaving.
The truck drove on.
For interminable seconds she hung there, eyes glued to the pavement in front of the apartment. Watching for the wash of headlights. In one minute she could be dead, Tammy left here in the dark all alone. What had she been thinking? Her grief had clouded her head.
No lights came.
Lorraine whirled back inside the unit.
She snatched up the flashlight and aimed it at her watch. Twelve forty-five. Every minute she stayed tempted fate. Maybe the robbers would stay away from this place for days. Maybe not.
Lorraine picked up the ninth box — and her hands gave out. The box slipped sideways from her fingers. One end landed on her right toes.
Breath hissed between her teeth. She yanked her foot from beneath the box, and it whumped on its top to the floor. Lorraine bent over, whimpers spilling from her throat. She pressed a hand against the throbbing toes, blinking back tears.
“Mommy!” Tammy’s frightened wail rose from the van. “Mommy!”
No.
Lorraine jerked up and hobbled toward the passenger side door. Flinging it open, she pulled Tammy into a hug. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Tammy clung to her. “Where were you?” Her voice was thick from sleep.
“Just behind the van. I’m close, sweetie. Always close.”
Tammy’s chest convulsed. She raised her head. “What’re you doing? Why’re we here?”
Lorraine smoothed her daughter’s hair. Her gaze flicked over Tammy’s head and out the driver’s window toward Starling Street. They needed to leave. “I’m just putting some things in the back, that’s all. You need to go back to sleep.”
“Stay here.”
Fear chewed Lorraine’s nerves. She fought to keep her voice even. “Tammy, I’ll be just a few feet away, I promise. I need to load some more stuff. You know, like when we go to the grocery store?”
“We’re not at the store.”
“I know. Please, Tammy, just . . . Can you go back to sleep? Here’s Belinda.” Lorraine pushed the bear into her little girl’s arms.
“I wanna help.”
“You can’t help. Just stay here.”
“But — ”
“No, Tammy.” Panic edged Lorraine’s voice. What was she doing out here? Now her daughter was awake, and her toes pulsed with pain, and she had four more boxes to load.
Tammy started to cry. Lorraine’s eyes slipped shut. Now she’d done it. Why hadn’t she kept her tone calm?
She pressed her palms against Tammy’s cheeks, feeling moisture beneath her fingertips. Lorraine’s heart rat-tatted, and her ankles shook. “Look at me.” She forced a little smile. “Your mommy’s right here. I’m just going to finish loading the van, then I’ll get back in my seat. But you need to stay here. You need to wait. Okay?”
Tammy’s big eyes blinked, her mouth trembling. She hugged Belinda to her chest. “Okay.”
Relief flooded Lorraine. “That’s my girl.” She backed up and started to shut the door.
“No, leave it open!”
Lorraine’s arms halted, her mouth opening to say no.
“Okay. I’ll leave it like this. Halfway.”
Before Tammy could protest, she turned and ran, limping, toward the storage unit.
Her toes throbbed as she moved the ninth box. The van was nearly filled. Tammy stayed quiet. Even if she called out now, Lorraine couldn’t stop. A terrified voice in her brain screamed for her to get out of here.
Her arms could barely carry the tenth box. By the eleventh her wrists threatened to give out. Teethed clenched, she dropped it into the back of the van with a heavy thud. She pushed it to the right, even with the two stacked boxes on the left. The last box would have to be lifted on top of this one.
Lorraine’s legs wobbled. Shoving her fists onto the floor of the van, she slumped over and pulled in air. She couldn’t manage that final box. No way.
The memories flooded back — Martin’s frozen face, his blood on the floor. In her mind’s eye she pictured his killer’s corpse, twice as bloody. The other three robbers — also dead. She imagined the rage within the Mafia family as they searched for money they’d never find.
Lorraine’s mouth twisted. She pushed up straight, every muscle in her body flaring.
For you, Martin.
She turned and reentered the storage unit.
Her arms could not handle the last box. She shoved it with one foot across the floor and out to the van. There she bent down, took a deep breath, and willed herself to lift it. Her back strained as she struggled to edge one corner above the floor of the van. That done, she rested for a moment, holding the box’s other end and gulping air.
Lorraine eyed the eleventh box, envisioning this one on top. You can do this.
A final wave of power flushed through her. Grimacing, Lorraine lifted her burden one more time and raised it inch by inch until its bottom cleared the eleventh box. With two hands she pushed it into place.
Puffing, she stood back and blinked in amazement at the loaded van. The doors would just close.
Lorraine glanced toward Huff and Starling streets, then reached down to pick up the gloves. Putting them on, she hurried inside the unit to fetch her flashlight and the bolt cutter. She threw them into the van on top of a box. Lorraine pulled down the unit door, wincing at the sound it made. She tore off the gloves and tossed them into the van. Nerves humming, she closed up the rear.
Almost there.
Lorraine ran to the driver’s door and yanked it open. She flung herself into the seat, slammed the door, and started the engine. Only then did she notice the passenger door hanging ajar. Tammy had wriggled toward the console, her head flopped in Lorraine’s direction, Belinda on the seat to her right. Lorraine thrust a hand on the console and heaved over her daughter toward the door. Tammy shifted beneath her weight and mumbled. Lorraine leaned farther, left hand reaching for the door handle.
“Nnnn.” Tammy tried to push her off.
Lorraine stretched her arm out but couldn’t touch the door. Tammy fought. Lorraine ignored her. She jerked her right hand from the console to the far side of Tammy’s seat and lunged for the door.
Belinda rolled off the seat to the ground.
“No!” Tammy cried.
Lorraine’s fingers closed on the handle. She yanked the door closed.
“Belinda!” Tammy reached for the door handle.
“Stop!” Lorraine caught her arms. “I’ll get her.”
Movement past the two storage buildings caught Lorraine’s eye. Her gaze cut toward it.
Light. Washing the concrete. Someone had turned in off Huff Street.
FORTY-FIVE
They left through Kaycee’s dining room door that opened onto the wrap-around section of the porch. It was already unlocked. Rodney smirked at her. “Locks never stopped me. But you know that.”
He closed the door and pushed her off the porch onto grass. “Over there. Toward the barn.”
Terror bubbled in Kaycee’s lungs. That barn was dark. With a dead man in it. “I know Hannah’s not in there. That barn was searched.”
“Keep your voice down. We’re going around the fence to the back.”
He gripped her arm hard and pulled her forward. As they neared the fence he veered right. Kaycee stumbled along, trying not to fall. God, just let me get to Hannah.