Faith cleared her throat. She put the phone back to her ear. “He has no demands.”
Will asked, “Are you okay?”
“I—”
“Speakerphone,” Caleb said.
Faith looked down at the phone so she could find the right button. She told Will, “He can hear you.”
He hesitated. “Is your mom comfortable? Can she sit down?”
He was asking for clues. “She’s in Dad’s chair, but I’m worried about her.” Faith took a deep breath. She kept her eyes on her mother’s. “I might need insulin if this drags on.” Caleb had been in Faith’s refrigerator. He would know she was diabetic. “My blood sugar was at eighteen hundred this morning. Mom only has enough for fifteen hundred. I had my last dose at noon. I’m going to need the next one by ten at the latest or my blood sugar will start swinging back and forth.”
“All right,” he agreed, and she prayed that he really understood the message and wasn’t just giving a quick answer.
She said, “Your phone—” Her mind wasn’t quick enough. “Do we call you on your phone if we need something? Your cell phone?”
“Yes,” he paused. “We can have your insulin there in five minutes. Just let us know. Let me know.”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed. She was talking too much, and neither Will nor Faith was good at this.
“Be careful.” Faith didn’t have to pretend to be scared. Her voice shook without any effort on her part. “He’s already killed his partner. He has a—”
“End it,” Caleb said.
Faith tried to find the button.
“End it!” he yelled.
The phone slipped out of her hand. Faith scrambled to get it off the floor. She remembered the revolver on her ankle. The S&W felt cold under her fingers.
“No!” her mother screamed. Her mouth had opened so wide that the tape finally pulled loose. Caleb had the gun jammed into her ribs. His free hand pressed against her broken leg.
“No!” Evelyn screeched. Faith had never heard another human being make that kind of noise. That it was coming from her mother was like a hand reaching straight into her chest and wrenching out her heart.
“Stop!” Faith begged, standing up, holding out her hands. “Please, stop! Please, just—please!”
Caleb released the pressure, but he kept his hand hovering over the broken leg. “Kick the gun over here. Slow, or I might kill the bitch anyway.”
“It’s okay.” She knelt down. A tremor rushed through her entire body like a seizure. “I’m doing what you said. I’m doing exactly what you said.” She lifted her pant leg, then pinched the gun between her thumb and forefinger. “Don’t hurt her anymore. Look.”
“Easy,” he warned.
She slid the gun across the floor at an angle, praying that Caleb would go back to where he’d been standing. He let the gun sail by, staying at Evelyn’s side instead.
He said, “Try something like that again, bitch.”
“I won’t,” Faith told him. “I promise.”
He rested the Tec-9 on the back of the chair, angling the muzzle down toward Evelyn’s head. The tape was dangling from her mouth. He ripped it away.
She gulped in air. The breath wheezed in and out of her broken nose.
He warned her, “Don’t get too used to breathing that clean air.”
“Let her go.” Evelyn’s voice was raw. “You don’t want her. She had no idea. She was just a child.”
“I was a child, too.”
Evelyn coughed out a spray of blood. “Just let her go, Caleb. It’s me you want to punish.”
“Did you even think about me?” He kept the gun to her head as he knelt down beside her. “All them times with her bastard little baby, did you even think about me?”
“I never stopped thinking about you. Not a day went by without—”
“Bullshit.” He stood back up.
“Sandra and Paul loved you like their own flesh and blood. They worshipped you.”
He looked away from her. “They lied to me.”
“All they ever wanted was for you to be happy.”
“Do I look happy now?” He indicated the dead man on the floor. “All my friends are gone now. Ricky, Hiro, Dave. All of them. I’m the last one standing.” He seemed to be forgetting his part in the carnage. “My fake father is dead. My fake mother is dead.”
Evelyn said, “I know you cried at her funeral. I know you loved Paul and—”
He smacked the back of her head with his open palm. Faith moved without thinking. He waved the gun in her direction and she froze.
She looked back at her mother. Evelyn’s head had dropped down. Blood dripped from her mouth. “I never forgot about you, Caleb. You know that somewhere in your heart.”
He slapped her harder this time.
“Stop,” Faith begged. She didn’t know if she was talking to her mother or to Caleb. “Please just stop.”
Evelyn whispered, “I always loved you, Caleb.”
He raised the rifle and slammed the butt against the side of her head. The impact knocked over the chair. Evelyn fell hard to the floor. She screamed in pain as her leg twisted around. The broom handle splint broke in two. Bone stuck out of her thigh.
“Mama!” Faith started for her.
There was a pinging sound. Wood kicked up from the floor.
Faith froze. She couldn’t tell if she’d been shot. All she could see was her mother on the floor, Caleb standing above her with his fist clenched. He kicked Evelyn. Hard.
“Please stop,” Faith pleaded. “I promise—”
“Shut up.” He looked up at the ceiling. At first, Faith didn’t recognize the sound. It was a helicopter. The blades chopped through the air, shaking her eardrums.
Caleb had the Tec-9 pointed at Faith now. He had to raise his voice to be heard. “That was a warning shot,” he told her. “Next one goes right between your eyes.”
She looked down at the floor. There was a hole in the wood. She took a step back, swallowed the cry that wanted to come out of her throat. The chopping sound receded as the helicopter pulled up. Faith could barely speak. “Please don’t hurt her. You can do anything to me, but please …”
“Oh, I’m gonna hurt you soon enough, sister girl. I’m gonna hurt you real bad.” He held up his arms as if he was on stage. “That’s what this is all about, yo. I’m gonna show your precious baby boy what it’s like to grow up without his mama.” He kept the gun on Faith. “You were good yesterday running after him in the street. A little closer and I’d’a had him dead on the ground.”
Vomit came into her mouth.
He pushed Evelyn with his sneaker. “Ask her why she gave me up.”
Faith didn’t trust her mouth to open.
“Ask her why she gave me up,” Caleb repeated. He raised his foot, ready to kick her mother’s shattered leg.
“Okay!” Faith yelled. “Why did you give him up?”
Caleb said, “Why did you give him up, Mom?”
“Why did you give him up, Mom?”
Evelyn didn’t move. Her eyes were closed. Just as the panic started to well up inside Faith, her mother’s mouth opened. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Yo, ain’t that what you’ve been saying to me for the last year, Mom? Everybody’s got choices?”
“It was a different time.” Her good eye opened. The lashes stuck together. She stared at Faith. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
Faith shook her head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Ain’t this nice. A little mother-daughter reunion here.” He shoved the chair so hard against the wall that the back leg broke. “She was ashamed of me, that’s why.” He paced over to the bookcase and back. “She couldn’t explain some little brown baby squirting outta her. Not like you, right? Different times.” He started pacing again. “And you think your daddy was so good growing up. Tell her what he said, Mom. Tell her what he made you do.”
Evelyn lay on her side, eyes closed, arms out in front of her. The s
hallow in-and-out of her chest was the only thing that indicated she was still alive.
“Your good ol’ daddy told her it was me or him. What do you think about that? Mr. Galveston Insurance Agent of the Year for six years running and he told your mama that she couldn’t keep her baby boy, because if she did, she’d never see her other kids again.”
Faith struggled not to show that he’d finally managed to hit the mark. She had adored her father, worshipped him like only a spoiled daddy’s girl can, but as an adult, she could easily see Bill Mitchell giving her mother this ultimatum.
Caleb had moved back to his original spot near the bookcase. The gun was down at his side, but she knew he could swing it up at any moment. His back was to the sliding glass doors. Evelyn was to his left. Faith was at a diagonal, about twelve feet away from him and waiting for all hell to break loose.
She prayed Will had understood her message. The room was a clock. Faith was at eighteen hundred, or six o’clock. Evelyn was at fifteen hundred, three o’clock. Caleb was swinging back and forth between ten and twelve.
Faith had offered at least twenty times over the last month to take Will’s cell phone off military time. He kept refusing because he was stubborn and full of an odd mixture of shame and pride where his disability was concerned. He was also watching her through the bathroom window right now. He had told her to give him a sign. She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling her thumb and index finger into an okay sign.
Faith looked down at her mother lying on the floor. Evelyn was staring at her with her one good eye. Had she seen Faith give Will the signal? Was she capable of understanding what was going to happen? Her breaths were labored. Her lips were blistered. She had obviously been choked. Dark bruises circled her neck. There was a cut on the side of her head. Blood seeped from an angry gash in her cheek. Faith felt a rush of love wash through her, straight to where her mother lay. It was like a light shining out from her body. How many times had Faith gone to this woman for help? How many times had she cried on her shoulder?
So many times that Faith had lost count.
Evelyn raised her hand. Her fingers trembled. She covered her face. Faith turned around. A blinding bright light came through the front windows. It pierced the flimsy blinds, shining a spotlight inside the house.
Faith ducked down. Maybe muscle memory recalled some training exercise from years past. Maybe it was human nature to make yourself as small as possible when you sensed something bad was about to happen.
Nothing happened in the immediate. Seconds went by. Faith found herself counting, “… two … three … four …”
She looked up at Caleb.
Glass shattered. He jerked as if someone had punched him in the shoulder. His expression was a mixture of shock and pain. Faith pushed herself off the floor. She lunged toward Caleb. He pointed the gun at her face. She looked straight into the threaded muzzle, the dark eye of the snubbed barrel, staring back. Rage took hold, burning inside of her, urging her forward. She wanted to kill this man. She wanted to rip open his throat with her teeth. She wanted to cut his heart out of his chest. She wanted to watch the pain in his eyes as she did everything to him that he had done to her mother, her family, their lives.
But she would never get the chance.
The side of Caleb’s head exploded. His arms jerked up. Bullets fired from the Tec-9 brought down a rain of white chalk from the ceiling. Muscle memory. Two pops, close together, one after the other.
Slowly, he collapsed to the ground. The only thing Faith could hear was the sound of his body slamming into the floor. First his hip, then his shoulder, then his head popping against the hard wood. His eyes stayed open. Dark blue. So familiar. So lifeless.
So long.
Faith looked at her mother. Evelyn had managed to prop herself up against the wall. She still held the Glock in her right hand. The muzzle started to tilt down. The weight was too much. She dropped her arm. The gun clattered to the floor.
“Mama …” Faith could barely stand. She half walked, half crawled to her mother. She didn’t know where to touch her, which part of her body wasn’t bruised or broken.
“Come here,” Evelyn whispered. She pulled Faith into her arms. She stroked her back. Faith couldn’t help it. She started to weep like a child. “It’s all right, baby.” Evelyn pressed her lips to the top of Faith’s head. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Will tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked down the hallway to Evelyn Mitchell’s hospital room. He was almost giddy with exhaustion. His vision was so sharp that the world was his Blu-ray. There was a high-pitched whine in his ear. He could feel every pore in his skin. This was why he never drank coffee. Will felt wired enough to power a small city. He had spent the last three nights with Sara. His feet barely touched the ground.
He stopped outside Evelyn’s room, wondering if he should’ve brought flowers. Will had cash in his wallet. He turned around, heading back toward the elevators. He could at least get her a balloon from the gift shop. Everybody liked balloons.
“Hey.” Faith pushed open her mother’s door. “Where are you going?”
“Does your mom like balloons?”
“I’m sure she did when she was seven.”
Will smiled. The last time he’d seen Faith, she was crying in her mother’s arms. She looked a little better now, but not by much. “How’s she doing?”
“Okay. Last night was slightly better than the one before, but the pain is still bad.”
Will could only imagine. Evelyn had been rushed to Grady with a full police escort. She’d been in surgery over sixteen hours. They’d put enough metal in her leg to fill a deluxe erector set.
He asked, “What about you?”
“It’s a lot to take in.” Faith shook her head, as if she still couldn’t make sense of it. “I always wanted another brother, but that was only because I thought he might beat up Zeke.”
“Seems like you can take care of yourself.”
“It’s a lot more work than you’d think.” She leaned her shoulder against the wall. “It must’ve been so hard for her. What she went through. I can’t imagine giving up one of my children. I’d just as soon rip out my heart.”
Will looked over her shoulder at the empty hallway.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about—”
“It’s okay,” he told her. “You know, a surprising number of orphans end up in the penal system.” He gave her some of the better examples. “Albert DeSalvo. Ted Bundy. Joel Rifkin. Son of Sam.”
“I think Aileen Wuornos was given up by her parents, too.”
“I’ll let the others know. It’s good to have a woman on the list.”
She laughed, but obviously her heart wasn’t into it. Will looked over her shoulder again. There was a large nurse with a bouquet of flowers walking down the hall.
Faith said, “I was sure that we weren’t going to make it out of that house.”
There was something in her voice that told him she still wasn’t past what had happened to her family. Maybe she never would be. Some things never left you, no matter how hard you tried.
Will said, “We should really get better codes in case this happens again.”
“I was terrified you wouldn’t understand. Thank God we had all those arguments about changing your phone off military time.”
“Actually, I didn’t understand.” He grinned at her shocked expression. Will had kept his cell on speakerphone while he talked to Faith. Roz Levy had rendered her opinion as soon as the call ended, telling them the room was a clock and that she’d be more than happy to run over there with her Python and take out the punk standing at noon.
Will told Faith, “I’d like to think that I would’ve figured it out eventually.”
“You realize that a blood sugar of eighteen hundred would probably mean I was either dead or in an irreversible coma?”
“Sure, I knew that.”
“Jesus Christ,” sh
e whispered. “So much for our well-oiled machine.”
He felt the need to tell her, “The helicopter was all me. The infrared camera told us where you were, confirmed that his partner was dead.” She didn’t seem impressed, so Will added, “And the lights were my idea.” They’d lined up two squad cars and blasted their xenon lights at the front windows. Caleb’s shadow against the curtains had given them something to aim for.
“Well, thanks anyway for shooting him.” She could obviously read his expression. “Oh, Will, it wasn’t you?”
He let out a long breath. “Amanda promised me she’d give me one of my testicles back if I let her take the shot.”
“I hope you got that in writing. She didn’t exactly hit a bull’s-eye.”
“She blames my rifle. Something about me being left-handed.”
The grip was universal, but Faith didn’t argue. “Well, I’m glad you were there. It made me feel safer.”
He smiled, though he was fairly certain all of this could’ve happened without his presence. Amanda was resourceful, and Will had basically hidden behind a wall while Faith risked her life.
She said, “I’m glad you’re with Sara.”
He fought the silly grin that wanted to come. “I’m just hanging in there until she decides she can do better.”
“I wish I thought you were joking.”
So did Will. He didn’t understand Sara. He didn’t know what made her tick or why she was with him. And yet, she was. And not just that—she seemed to be happy about it. Sara had been smiling so much this morning that she could barely purse her lips to kiss him goodbye. Will had thought maybe some toilet paper was stuck to his face where he’d cut himself shaving, but she’d told him that she was smiling because he made her happy.
He didn’t know what to do with that. It didn’t make sense.
Faith knew how to stop the grin on his face. “What about Angie?”
He shrugged, as if Angie hadn’t left so many messages on his home and cell phone that both voicemail boxes had run out of space. Each message got nastier and nastier. Each threat more severe. Will had listened to every message. He couldn’t help himself. He could still see Angie with that gun in her mouth. He could still feel his heart rattle at the thought of pushing open his bathroom door and finding her bleeding out in his bathtub.
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