There was a clatter from the other room, a crash like pans falling to the floor. He heard Marshall curse.
The woman winced. “Please,” she said, and took a step forward. Raised an arm, the fingers shaking. Her skin was pale, and he could smell her from here, the fear sweat. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“He’s only. He’s. Please. My son.”
Jack looked down at the baby cradled in his left arm. A cute kid, all cheeks and wide, curious eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said. “This will all be over soon.” He looked back up at her. “I promise.”
20
TOM HAD BEEN DOWN THIS STREET more times than he could count, but everything looked different now. Brighter and in sharper focus. He could see the detail in every leaf as though each was on a distinct and brilliant plane. It was almost overwhelming, all that clarity.
“You have the key?” Anna clenched the steering wheel at ten and two. Tom patted his pocket, stopped his knee from rocking.
They’d fled south on Lake Shore, and every moment he’d expected blue lights behind. He had seen the effort it cost her not to put the gas to the floor, to stay at the same five-miles-over everyone else was maintaining.
“I’ll do it,” he’d said. “I’ll bring it to him.”
“No. Both of us.”
He knew that tone, hadn’t argued. Instead, he’d just quietly made a plan: After they picked up the money, he’d hop in the car, lock the doors, and leave her behind. No point both of them strolling up like sheep.
But then Anna came up with a better idea. It was simple, it was elegant, and it protected Sara and Julian. Downside, it left the two of them screwed. But there were things worth fighting for. Worth dying for, if need be. It was funny, though. With everything else stripped away, life came down to just the two of them. They would make it through together or they would go down together. Not long ago, all he’d wanted was for them to get back to the place where they stood two against the world.
Careful what you wish for. “There’s a spot,” he said.
She nodded, pulled the Pontiac to the side, threw it in reverse, and parallel parked. The location was good, halfway down the block from Sara’s house, far enough for their purposes.
Anna turned off the engine, and it was like that triggered some gland in his head, got the chemicals flowing. His fingers tingled and his armpits were suddenly swamped. He took steady breaths, wanting to be ready but not so deep in fight-or-flight that he was nothing but jangling nerves. Anna opened her cell, then closed it again. She set it in the cup holder, then looked at the clock. The shrubs outside. A Cubs flag fluttering from a porch. Everywhere but at him.
“We’re going to be okay,” he said, not believing it. “Once he has his money, there’s no reason to kill us.”
She turned, lips quivering. For a moment she hesitated; then she threw herself across the seat, wrapping her arms around his neck, his back, ratcheting against him like she would never let go. “I love you so goddamn much.”
He smiled into her neck, ran his fingers through her hair. “Shhh.”
For a moment they held each other, and then she leaned back. “If we make it through, I’m going to – I’ll never-”
“I know,” he said. “Me too.” He glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes since they’d left the beach. He wanted more than anything to stay right here. “It’s time.”
Anna wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. Drew a trembling breath, then a stronger one. Opened the cell phone and pressed three keys. “I’m ready.”
He nodded, feeling a sick heat through his bowels. He opened the car door with a squeak, swiveled to get a foot out.
“Tom.” Her voice a levee holding back too much. He turned, and for her sake made himself smile. She managed a thin smile back, eyes shining. “Be careful.”
He winked. Then he shut the door and started down the sidewalk before his nerve collapsed. Wolfram was a quiet street, trees and brick apartment complexes and the odd town house. He remembered helping Sara move in, angling her futon through the front door, hauling an armoire that had to weigh ten thousand pounds. Afterward, they’d headed to a nearby bar she knew, place called Delilah’s. Great music. The three of them had pounded Old Style and Jim Beam, sweaty and laughing and singing along.
He pushed the thoughts out of his mind. Too much at stake to be any less than a hundred percent. The clouds had begun to break, patches of scattered sun spilling through the trees. His mouth was dry, and his legs felt light. Tom dug in his pocket, came out with the brass key clutched in his good hand. Sara’s blinds were all closed, but he thought he saw movement at one of them. His heart felt like it might smash through his ribs.
He stepped onto the porch.
ANNA WATCHED HIM WALK AWAY, and every step cranked barbed wire around her heart. All this time they had been so caught up in chasing the things they thought they wanted, they had forgotten the things they already had. Never again. She thought it repeatedly, a mantra that would keep him safe and bring him back to her. That was all she wanted now.
And all she wouldn’t get. No matter what lies they had told each other, Jack wouldn’t let them live. No chance. But at least they’d save Sara and Julian.
With the phone in hand, she slid low in her seat until she could just barely see Tom climb the steps to Sara’s porch. As he reached the door, it swung inward. She couldn’t see inside, but she saw her beautiful husband hold up the key. He stood calm, strong, like trading his life for his family’s was the simplest choice in the world, and in the moment she most risked losing him she loved him more than she ever had.
A STRANGE SORT OF CALM settled on him. Facing the monster, the fear was still there, as much a part of the moment as the air he breathed. But it felt like something apart. He held the key in front of him, willing his hand not to shake.
Jack stood in the door frame with his arms crossed. White gauze stained with blood wrapped his left forearm. All the blinds were closed, and the light inside the house was dim, but not so dark that Tom couldn’t make out the shoulder holster, the way Jack’s fingers fell lightly, almost accidentally, on the handle of his gun. The moment stretched like a power line, so taut and charged it hummed.
Finally Jack said, “Where’s the missus?”
“Watching from somewhere safe, with 911 dialed into her cell phone and her thumb on the Send button.”
“Somewhere safe, huh?” Jack gave a bemused sort of smile. He leaned out the door, glancing left and right down the block. “You couldn’t just bring my money, could you? You people, always complicating things.”
“Nope. Simplifying them.” He took a breath, could taste the air. “You don’t want Sara or Julian. You’re willing to use them, but all you’re really after is the money, right?” He shrugged. “So swap us for them, and we’ll take you to the storage locker where we stowed it.”
“Let me get this straight. I walk out with you, hop in your car, and you take me to my money. And if I don’t, Anna calls 911. Is that it?”
Tom nodded.
“It can take ten, fifteen minutes for cops to respond to a 911 call,” Jack said. “You know how long that could feel?”
Tom’s mouth went dry, but he didn’t flinch. “That won’t get you what you want.” His hands were shaking, and he put them against his legs to hide it. This was the anchor everything hung on, the assumption that no matter how angry Jack might be, what he wanted more than anything was the cash. If that calculation turned out to be wrong, this would get uglier than he dared imagine. “Just let me make sure that Sara and Julian are okay, and then let’s go get your money.”