by Sarah Zettel
This time the pause felt different. This time he was surprised. She thought. She hoped.
“Chicken feed,” he announced finally.
“Just the beginning. That seventy-five K I promised you? We can still get to it, if we’re a little careful, and there’s more where that came from.”
Todd dipped his chin and arched both eyebrows.
“The Bowens, together again, Dad.” Beth moved forward one step. She tried to force enough bravado into her voice to smooth out the raw edge of her desperation. “I’ve got to get out of here, and so do you and Jeannie. So does Dana. We might as well just go together. You can have everything I’ve got. I don’t care. We’ll need it all anyway. I’ve been getting ready to cut and run for years. You would not believe what I’ve got stashed away, starting with a car, all gassed up and ready to go. You know, you were right.” She gave him a painful, tentative smile. “You did teach me everything I know. I just…scaled it up a little.”
He wanted to believe this was true. His shoulders were hunching, his eyes narrowing just a little. It was one of his few tells. Beth was shocked to find herself remembering it.
“How could I ever be sure you’d behave?”
“Same way you knew I’d pay up. Because you could turn my daughter in anytime. Well, now you’ll have two of us.” She spread her hands, showing him they were empty.
Believe it, Dad. Believe me.
His pinpoint attention crawled across her face, looking for the crack in the story. Beth had no choice but to hold still and let it happen. She didn’t dare move until he was good and ready.
He was almost there. She could see it. He knew in his blood and bones that in the end, she belonged to him.
And this was the end. The bitter, final, for-real end. He stared at her, and in that moment, Beth realized she’d never really seen her father. She’d maybe caught a glimpse, here and there. But this naked, impersonal calculation had remained hidden under his alternating masks of rage and cheerful affection.
“Let’s see what’s really in that bag,” said Todd.
“Okay.”
She did not want him to know she was carrying, but there was nothing she could do now, and she could not let him see her hesitate. She tossed the bag to him.
Theoretically, he could just grab it and run. But he wouldn’t. Because she had more than what was in there. Dad never took half the pot.
He glanced over his shoulder. Her eyes fastened on his throat. Her ears rang. She smelled smoke.
No one was looking; no one was coming. Not that he could see. Or hear.
She smelled iron and tasted copper and salt.
Dad moved into the shadow by the wall and unzipped the bag. He shook it and lifted his eyebrows at her.
He’d seen the gun. She shrugged. “World’s a dangerous place, Dad,” she whispered. “And you’re going to want to make your mind up really soon.”
“Why?”
“Because I called the cops.”
He tucked his chin so he could look down his nose at her. “And why would you go and do a damn fool thing like that?”
“Because you might have said no.”
He pulled the Glock out, thumbed the safety. Beth felt her body seize up.
Then he grinned his best, most open grin and tucked the gun in his jacket pocket.
“Okay, Daughter,” he said. “Let’s go get that car.”
Todd bowed and gestured for her to go first. Beth led her father calmly away down the alley, to the timeless city serenade of police sirens.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Schaumburg was a place of well-spaced single-family homes and sloping lawns and old trees. Little strip-mall districts were allowed at decorous intervals, and even the gas stations looked like they cared about appearances.
Dad was obviously very familiar with the route. He had no problem directing her through the exits and turns and roundabouts into the depths of a quiet, shady neighborhood and onto one particular driveway on one particular street.
“Hey, get a load o’ this, Star. I love this.” He pointed his phone at the garage door, and it rose gracefully. “Like magic!”
Beth drove in and parked. Dad hit a button on his phone, and the door closed behind them, shutting them both into the dark.
Dad patted her arm and climbed out of the car. Beth got out more slowly behind him. She didn’t know what to hope for. She wanted to see Dana like she wanted to keep breathing. But part of her wanted Dana to have escaped. She wanted her daughter to have not believed their lies and to be out there somewhere, looking for a way back home. Todd fished out his key and opened the door to the house.
“We’re back!” he bellowed.
Beth was vaguely aware they’d come out of the dark into a sunny mudroom and that there was one step up into an even sunnier kitchen. The only thing she really saw was the person who came to stand in the doorway, a fork in one hand.
Dana.
Dana whole and alive and standing in front of her. Dana wide-eyed and jaw-dropped and unable to believe what was happening.
Dana. My daughter. Dangerface. Dana.
Dana rushed forward. The fork clattered to the floor. Beth wrapped her arms around her and pulled her daughter against her. She held her, unable to think, unable to move, just breathing in her scent, feeling the trembling reality of her body. Beth hugged her like her life depended on it. It did. The ability of her heart to keep beating depended on Dana’s warmth seeping into her body.
She was crying. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry. I just…I didn’t…”
“Shh. Shh.” Beth kissed the top of her head. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.”
“I did it.” Dana pressed her face hard against Beth’s shoulder. Her tears soaked through the thin T-shirt. “I did it. I…”
“Dana, Dana—look at me.” Taking her face between her hands, feeling the familiar shape against her palms. Inhaling the scent of her, feeling the strength of her. Seeing Dana staring up at her with her beautiful, beautiful eyes filled with fear and questions.
“It is not your fault.” Beth poured every ounce of meaning she could into the words. “None of it.”
“Are we going home?” asked Dana.
She sounded so small, so lost. Beth wrapped her arms around her daughter again and looked over her head at her parents.
Todd stood grinning, positively radiating triumph. Why wouldn’t he? He had everything he wanted. Here was his entire family, all in one room and all absolutely dependent on him.
Jeannie, though—Jeannie looked wary. Blinking hard, probably coming down off something.
You did this, Beth thought at them. You did this and you brought me here and I will make you sorry.
Jeannie turned a little pale. Todd just clapped his hands together, hard.
“Okay, enough waterworks,” he announced. “Everybody, get your stuff. We’re hitting the road.”
That startled Jeannie. “You said we were staying for a couple more days.”
“Change of plans.”
Dana pulled back, just far enough to look right into Beth’s eyes. Beth kept her arms around Dana’s shoulders, trying to will silent reassurance into her daughter’s body.
“Our girl thought ahead enough to have a car ready to go,” Dad was saying. “And then she went and called the cops on me.” He shook his head in disbelief at this bit of mischief. “We are outta here. Get your stuff, Jeannie. You too, Granddaughter.”
“But, Mom…what…?”
“Shh. It’s going to be okay.”
Dana squeezed her arm. It hurt, but not as bad as the pressure in her heart and her head at the sight of her daughter’s bewildered distress. “We’re not going with them! You’re not! We’re going home!”
“No, Dana. Not yet. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine. It’s just for a little while.”
“You’re talking like them.”
The love and excitement bled out of Dana’s eyes, replaced by confusion and betrayal.
Beth gripped her shoulders. Look at me, Dana. See me. Please, please—you have to.
But Dana didn’t want to see. She slowly drew herself away. She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder and wrapped her arms around herself.
“Jeannie?” Todd put a note of warning into the name. “Let’s go.”
“Yeah, Todd. Sure.” Jeannie finally moved into the other room. Beth heard her rummaging around.
Dad didn’t put the duffle bag down once.
Beth gathered Dana close again, kissing the top of her head. “He’s got a gun, Dana,” she breathed. Dana’s head jerked up. “We go along for now.”
She held her daughter’s gaze. Something hardened inside, a determination that she had rarely felt. Dana was already changed, already broken by everything that had happened to her. Her kind girl, the fixer, the cheerful and irreverent foodie, was already damaged.
My fault. My fault.
She could not sink into that blame. To do so would be to drag Dana with her.
Jeannie came back into the room, dragging a wheeled suitcase with her. Beth wondered how much stuff Amanda Pace Martin was going to be missing when she finally got home.
“So, here’s what’s going on,” announced Todd. “We’re going to head for Detroit. If we push, we can make it by tonight. I still know a couple of guys who can help us out with some fresh IDs. Then we’re headed down to Miami. No more winters! Sun and fun on the beach for everybody!”
“Sounds great, Todd,” said Jeannie.
“Whaddya say, Dana?”
Dana just tightened her jaw.
“Okay, we got the sulks. You’ll feel better when you’ve had a chance to get used to the idea. Besides, we’re gonna have fun. This is a family trip. All the Bowens together for the first time!”
Beth kept her hands on Dana’s shoulders. “No fuss, Dana, okay?”
Hear me. Hear what I’m really saying. Look at me. Look at me. You know me. We know each other.
This time Dana did look, and Dana saw.
But she wasn’t the only one who did. Beth turned and found both parents watching her. Todd was confident and brimming with happiness.
And then there was Jeannie. For a split second, Beth saw the rage burning on Jeannie’s face. One single instant when the calculations had all broken and revealed the woman underneath.
The woman who at that moment wanted them all dead.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Beth drove.
The ragged ruins between Chicago and Gary slowly gave way to fields of beans and corn. Trucks and SUVs rumbled past. The sun setting behind them. The awareness of her father beside her, her mother behind her.
As often as she could, Beth glanced into the rearview mirror, trying to see Dana. Dana didn’t look back. She curled up in the corner of the seat as tightly as the belt allowed and watched the flat country and the traffic roll past.
It was Jeannie’s gaze she kept catching.
Dad talked the whole time. Having a captive audience always did make him expansive. Now, he spun pictures of all the bright lights and fun they were going to have in Miami. He didn’t expect answers or input. He just talked, and Beth just drove.
But with every word, every second, and each mile post Beth felt her life recede. Nothing she had accomplished mattered now—not her escape from Bob Early, not finding Rafi, not Lumination. Not the long years when she begged, borrowed, stole, and ultimately built a life from the ruins that had been gifted to her by her parents. None of it. She was right back where she’d started, only worse.
Because before, she didn’t have any choice. This time…it was because she’d failed. Failed herself and failed Dana.
“Indiana state line,” said Dad cheerfully. “Everybody breathe.”
Beth’s head jerked up. Shit. She’d almost fallen asleep. “Rest stop,” she croaked. “Um, okay, Dad?”
“Yeah!” Dana announced abruptly from the back seat. “I gotta pee!”
“Hey, I know what!” Jeannie leaned forward and draped her arms over Todd’s seat. “I remember there’s this outlet mall in Michigan City. Remember that, Todd? We should stop there.”
“Shopping?” said Dana, appalled.
“Actually, it’s not a bad idea.” Beth tried to catch Dana’s eye in the mirror. “We’re all going to need clothes and stuff. It’s a long way to Miami.”
“Women.” Dad rolled his eyes. “Okay, pull in here.” He pointed to the rest-stop sign, like Beth couldn’t read. “Quick pee and then I guess we’re going to the mall.”
Jeannie squealed like a little girl and bounced up and down in her seat. Dana looked out the window, tired and disgusted.
Beth turned the wheel.
Once she’d pulled into the empty parking lot and turned off the engine, Dad shifted in his seat so he could talk to the whole family at once.
“Now, I want you all to know we’re on the buddy system from here on out. Safety first, right?” He grinned and tapped the side of his nose. “Dana, you and me go while your mom stays here with your grandma. When we get back, you two can go, okay? Okay.” He unbuckled himself. “Come on, Granddaughter.”
Dana stared at Beth, her eyes wide, silently urging her to do something. But there was nothing she could do. Not yet.
“Go on, Dana.”
Her daughter’s disappointment cut deep, but Beth hugged that pain close. It woke her up better than any hit of caffeine could. This was what was real. This was why she had to keep swimming.
Todd climbed out of the car, and so did Dana. Beth watched her father put his hand on Dana’s shoulder. She gripped the steering wheel until she thought it would break. She watched him walk Dana away. The windows were up. She could not hear what he was saying, but she saw Dana’s shoulders slump.
That was when Jeannie shouted.
“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing? You were going to kill him! I told you! You said—”
“I know what I said.” Beth cut her off. Jeannie was panicky. That was not good. “I’ve got to pick my moment, Mom.” Jeannie at least paused at that. “The cops already think I killed Doug. Who would they be looking for if Todd turned up dead too? I had to get him out of state first, and then…if there’s going to be any chance of a life after this for Dana, whatever I do has got to look like self-defense.”
“You actually think you can go back after this?”
Beth twisted her hands on the wheel, trying to wring it out like a rag. “Dana has to be able to.”
“Well, then you’re a goddamn fool, Star Bowen. Whatever you had, he’s already taken it all away from you and her, and you’d both better hurry up and get used to it.”
“Careful, Mom,” said Beth softly. “You brought me here because you can’t make yourself kill him—”
“He knows me too well. He’d see it!”
“You don’t want me thinking about two birds with one stone, do you?”
Beth felt a sick surge of satisfaction at the flicker of fear that crossed her mother’s bruised face. “Yes, yes, of course you have to think about Dana. But you can’t wait too long, Beth. He’s got plans. He’s going to get you to sign over your money. He’s not going to leave you with anything.”
Jeannie was babbling, acquiescing, reassessing. She was trying to find some argument that would both soothe and frighten her daughter. But her eyes remained hard and watchful.
Fear sent a surge of adrenaline through Beth. Because Jeannie was the dangerous one. She always had been, and Beth could not forget that for a single second.
Because Jeannie had something she wanted Beth to do, and if she started thinking that Beth might not get it done, she might also decide there was no point in dragging her along anymore.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
This was surreal.
Barely a full day after killing her father, Dana was walking into a mall. The happiest, blandest, most normal place in America, surrounded by outlet stores and crammed with people. Michigan City (which was still in Indiana—
what was up with that?) clearly did not have a whole lot else going on.
Oh, and she was on the run. Literally. This was what on the run was. This feeling like she’d been lit up from the inside and everybody could see there was something wrong. Like she still had all the blood all over her face and down her shirt. Any second now, someone would turn and see it. She was on the run with her crazy grandparents.
And her mom.
When Mom had walked into that house, Dana had fallen into her arms. She’d been warm and safe. Saved. For about two seconds. Then it all came crashing down.
And there was the unbelievable car ride. The whole time, Jeannie kept trying to hold her hand and mouthed little things at her. Dana had to stop looking at her. It made her sick—like, carsick but worse. She didn’t know what to do. She’d thought maybe something would happen at the rest stop. Like Mom would find a way to smuggle them both out in one of the semis parked on the far side. Something. Anything.
But all that happened was everybody peed and they all got back in the car. And came here, where they were just one more family in the crowd.
And Jeannie and Todd were up ahead, and for this little pocket of a moment, they were not being watched.
Dana twined her fingers into her mother’s. “Now?” she said as quietly as she could. “He’s not gonna shoot up a mall.” He’s not that kind of crazy. He can’t be. He can’t.
Mom squeezed her fingers. “Not yet,” she breathed. “Soon.”
Disappointment tasted just like bile.
All of a sudden, Jeannie squealed. “Ooo, look—a Ruby Tuesday!” She grabbed Todd’s arm. “I’m starving! Let’s get something. Can we please?” She laid her head on his shoulder and blinked at him.
Todd laughed and put an arm around her. “Sure. Why not? Keep up, girls!”
Un-effing-believable.
But in another couple of minutes, there they were—sitting at the table, all ordering burgers and fries. Todd flirted with the pretty waitress, and Jeannie didn’t even seem to mind. Where the fuck is your #MeToo mojo?
And Todd was still talking. Now it was all about how great this trip was going to be. “Hey, what about Disney World? Have you ever been? No? We’ll go. Man, I remember this one time—”
