The entire incident had taken place in just a few seconds, and Maizie was watching from pretty far away and sure, she was old and her eyesight wasn’t what it used to be.
But Maizie Adams knew trouble when she saw it. And she had seen it.
She picked up the telephone and cursed herself for being such an old fool. Why hadn’t she trusted her instincts earlier? Whatever was happening over there at 7 Granite Circle was bad and she should have notified the police the minute she suspected something was wrong.
It was too late to worry about her foolishness now, though. All she could do was try to correct her mistake.
She squinted at the laminated card taped to the wall next to her telephone. Damn, the thing was hard to read. Her daughter Jeannie had placed the card there months ago, concerned about what might happen in the event of a fire or attempted break-in. All of Everett’s emergency response numbers were listed, but to Maizie’s way of thinking you had to have the eyesight of a twenty-year-old just to read it. She punched in what she hoped was the number for the Everett Police Department and was rewarded when it was picked up on the second ring.
“Everett police.” The voice was female, and sounded young and bored.
“Yes,” Maizie said. “I’d like to report…” What? A break-in? A disturbance? What?
“Yes?” the voice prompted, now impatient as well as bored.
“Well, there’s something strange going on in the house across the street from mine. The address is Seven Granite Circle.”
“Something strange? Could you please be more specific?”
“A young man I’ve never seen before knocked on the door a little while ago. I can’t swear to it, but I think he may have forced his way in. Now two other people have entered the house after visiting yesterday, and they seem to have entered reluctantly. Please send someone quickly, I’m afraid something is very wrong over there.”
“What was the address again?”
“Number Seven Granite Circle, here in Everett.”
“Seven Granite Circle. Okay, ma’am, we’ll dispatch an officer to check on your neighbor.”
“Thank you,” Maizie answered, hanging up the phone numbly, hoping she hadn’t waited too long.
CHAPTER 37
“Let’s move into the parlor and get comfortable, shall we?” The man gestured toward the end of the hallway with his knife and the group moved en masse, all four bodies shuffling in a kind of tense, loosely choreographed dance, the man with the knife sliding slowly backward, pulling Victoria along, Cait and Kevin matching him step for slow step.
Cait couldn’t take her eyes off the blade. It was thin and shiny and long, with a bone-white handle clutched expertly by its owner, who maintained light but steady pressure on Virginia’s throat. She glanced into her mother’s eyes and saw not just fear, but also regret and sorrow and a kind of tired resignation.
She thought back to their earlier conversation in this very house and everything fell into place. The intruder with the knife was roughly her age, with the same wavy auburn hair and the same general build, thin and wiry. There had to be millions of men throughout the country fitting the same general description, tens of millions maybe.
But she knew, nevertheless.
The man with the knife was her brother.
They moved into the kitchen and the man with the knife kept going, shuffling backward on the balls of his feet like he was performing some demented slow-motion version of the moonwalk. He turned ninety degrees to his left, pulling Victoria through a large open doorway and into the living room. He continued backing up until they reached a point more or less in the middle of the room. Victoria’s television loomed behind him, a gigantic old Sony with washed-out colors teetering atop a frail-looking TV table. On it, glamorous soap opera characters played out their glamorous fictional lives, babbling about love and loss and treachery.
Next to the television, positioned roughly halfway between the TV table and the kitchen doorway, an ornamental cactus sat in an enormous ceramic pot. The cactus was mammoth, reaching almost all the way to the ceiling, and looked as though it had occupied its space for decades. Along the opposite wall, behind the man with the knife, was an old couch, worn and faded but scrupulously clean. The room was otherwise bare.
The man with the knife—my brother, Cait thought with a numb fascination—focused his gaze on Cait and then inclined his head toward the TV. “You. Drag your ass next to the television set and don’t fucking move.”
Cait froze and glanced uncertainly at Kevin. He nodded almost imperceptibly. The intruder pulled his knife away from Victoria’s throat and indicated that she should join Cait. Together the two of them took small, hesitant steps until they stood between the TV and the cactus plant. Cait felt like a junior-high wallflower at her first dance but was relieved her mother was no longer in immediate danger.
Kevin moved to follow them and the man snapped, “No, no, no, not you.” He held his hand up like a traffic cop and Kevin stopped. “You look nice and strong; you can do some of the heavy lifting in preparation for our little party.”
Kevin waited for instructions. He appeared completely at ease, didn’t even seem afraid. Cait had never had the opportunity to observe him in his work as a police officer, but was starting to understand why he was so highly regarded on the Tampa force, despite his relative youth and short time on the job.
The man with the knife regarded Kevin with his cold eyes. “Go into the kitchen and bring two of those strong wooden chairs in here. Place them in front of your girlfriends, facing the couch.” Cait watched as Kevin walked into the kitchen. She wondered if he might be able to grab something and use it as a weapon but realized the man with the knife had positioned himself so he could monitor Kevin’s progress the entire time. In less than a second, if he sensed a threat, he could slice Cait and Virginia both from head to toe.
Kevin returned a moment later, lugging one chair in his beefy hands, moving slowly. He set it down a few feet from the couch and then rotated it so that it was facing forward. Cait wondered why he hadn’t grabbed both chairs at the same time; he was certainly strong enough. Then she realized he was stalling, dragging things out as long as possible, slowing everything down while searching for an opportunity to take the offensive.
Kevin turned, his right hand resting lightly on the chair back. “What’s your name?” he asked.
The other man paused for a moment. “Milo,” he said.
“Hi, Milo. I’m Kevin. What’s this all about?”
“I don’t care what your name is, and as for what’s going on here, you’ll find out soon enough. I think you’ll find the upcoming spectacle to be very revealing. But for now, just do as you’re told and keep your mouth shut.”
“Okay,” Kevin answered agreeably. “You’re in control,” he said. “We’re all doing exactly as you say.”
“You’re right about that. You will do as I say, if you know what’s good for you, that is. Now stop stalling.” He knelt and reached into the backpack at his feet, rooting around for a moment while keeping his gaze fixed on his three prisoners. He pulled out a roll of reinforced duct tape and tossed it to Kevin. “Secure the old bat in the chair, nice and snug. I want two strips around each wrist and two around each ankle, tight to the chair. No wiggle room.”
Kevin turned to Virginia and nodded gently at the chair with a grim look on his face. It was obvious he didn’t like the way things were playing out. Cait watched as her mother eased into the chair and placed her arms on the armrests, making it easy for Kevin to secure them. He muttered something Cait could not decipher and the man immediately shouted “Shut up!”