"Less than a week ago. We confirmed who each of you were. And I have to say, it disappointed me. I honestly thought you weren't the one who pulled the trigger. It didn't seem like something you had in you when we first met. And no matter how close I tried to get to you, nothing about your past ever came up."
"Is that why you and your father orchestrated this whole mess? To make me talk?"
"We were sick of waiting. And I felt the only way to make your lips move was for you to believe there was a danger threatening us both. There was no way in hell you'd add the death of a young girl to your conscience after what you did to Tommy."
I stare up and away from Toni as more tears burn my eyes. "This isn't happening," I mutter to myself.
"It is though. You can't escape this. You're a killer, Marie."
"I'm not."
"Hey now, you can't fight the truth. None of us can. Instead, it's time to embrace who you are and accept what happened five years ago. Don't you want to make it to Champagne Beach?"
My eyes go wide for a moment.
"What? You thought I didn't know about that goal of yours? It wasn't hard to snoop through your computer when you were asleep. I found the spreadsheet on your desktop, not to mention the obvious wallpaper photo you always stared at. I found it interesting the way you kept extending out the money you thought you needed for the trip. Is that how you justified not taking it?"
I stare down at the cell phone as it records all of this. Toni is trying to wear me down, piece by piece, and I can feel it working. She's done her homework. She even knows some of the lies I tell myself. Do I let her win, or do I fight back, knowing the alternative involves her father slicing me open with his knife?
I continue to give her an answer when Steven comes rushing out into the living room.
"What's going on?" Toni asks.
"We have to go," he says without explanation. I can see a bag in his hand being stuffed with items that were left around my house as if he'd planned on moving in. Now they were being treated like contaminated objects that needed disposing of.
"What do you mean we have to go?" Toni asks, standing up. She brushes by me, leaving the cell unattended. I could grab it and try to hop away as I had with the other phone to call Dustin for help, but I wouldn't make it far enough to be out of the signal jammer's range.
"I've been listening to the police radio with the jammer off. One neighbor has reported my car as suspicious. The cops aren't panicked about it yet, but they plan on sending a unit by to take a quick look. They'll run the plates and work out they're fake. If that happens while we're in here, it could be game over."
I try to hide my smile, unsure what consequences there will be if Steven catches my expression in the confusion.
"Dammit," Toni mutters. "We need more time." She grabs the cell and turns off the recording. Her eyes fall to mine and confirm what I hoped wouldn't be the case. "You're coming with us."
I shake my head, desperate for this ordeal to be over. I want to go and sleep in my bed and not come out from under the covers for twelve hours.
"On your feet," Steven demands, leaning down over the sofa from behind me. "Stand by the kitchen door and don't move. Got it?"
I give him a sigh and point to my legs. "That might be harder than you think."
Steven bares his teeth at me as he ducks down and cuts the zip tie from my ankles with rough hands. He pulls me to my feet and shoves me along to the door. I continue the short journey and stop at the kitchen entrance. I could make a run for it out of the house, but Steven and Toni look too agile for my fatigued body.
As the pair goes frantically about the place, I wonder to myself which neighbor made the call. I know they each have their quirks and wouldn't enjoy having an unknown vehicle sitting in the street, but this feels quick even for them.
Toni has fewer things to worry about bringing along, seeing as she supposedly lives with me. Somehow though I think our living arrangement has run its course.
"Grab some food. This might take a while," Steven says to Toni. She brushes by me into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator as if I'm invisible, she pulls out the few items we have left from our meager supplies.
"Where are we going?" I ask. "I have the right to know."
"Don't worry," she replies. "You just concentrate on not causing us any more problems."
Chapter 43
Toni – Then
My mother died. My dad and I both found her lifeless body lying on her back in bed. The only reason we discovered her was because she hadn't emerged from her bedroom in days.
Dad had been sleeping on the couch for some time. All he and Mom seemed to do was argue, so he gave her the space she required during a tough point in their marriage. The harsh truth was they couldn't stand to be around each other at a stage when she needed him the most.
Mom started drinking alone when Tommy officially passed. On top of the liquor, she took extra doses of Valium along with antidepressants the doctor had prescribed her. The combination rapidly wore her down to the point where her system shut down overnight and never recovered. She died in her sleep, over medicating on a particularly difficult night the way a washed-up Hollywood actress did. But we weren't in Tinseltown. No reporters were going to flock to our front doorstep and demand to know the truth. This was in the real world.
It wasn't until I banged on Mom's door, begging to talk, that Dad and I both realized there was a problem. I went to her room, deciding enough was enough, that she needed to come out and face the world like the rest of us. It was the only way we'd climb out of the hole we had crawled into as a family.
Instead, I found her cold body. My voice choked up when I tried to scream, cry, and yell all at once. My mother had accidentally killed herself trying to avoid facing the pain that Tommy's absence left behind. She'd done the same to Dad and me in the process. I couldn't have had more of a range of emotions to attempt to make sense of what had happened in that moment.
One minute, I was beyond inconsolable with a damp sadness that felt like it would never go away. The next, I was furious at my mom for being so irresponsible with alcohol and her over-prescribed medicine. Her doctor would have some questions to answer.
Six weeks after seeing Dad and five other people lower Tommy's tiny casket into the earth, I had to witness my mother's burial right beside him in the family plot. Once again, I would be forced to work over the stages of grief and somehow find the means to continue through my growing hell. But how could I do so without Mom by my side to help me through the worst time in my life?
All the relatives stared at Dad and I at the funeral, probably wondering who would die next between the two of us. Their faces only confirmed my suspicions as we thanked each individual for coming.
They offered the usual comforting lines as I shook hands and hugged each attendee. "If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know," or, "I'm so sorry for your loss." I absorbed them all, feeling numb to my core with every word spoken. None of them meant any of it. There would be no support other than a few weeks of ready-made meals neither Dad nor I would want to eat.
What were we supposed to do next? Losing Tommy was a devastating enough blow to the system. Losing Mom shortly after seemed cruel. I could only imagine what was going through Dad's head. He'd lost his wife and baby boy.
The days crawled by as I floated around the house, trying to do what I could to keep it tidy. Dad had shut down and locked himself away in his study. I should have been concerned that he might develop a similar habit to Mom, but I possessed zero energy to talk about it. All of my focus went into what household chores I could handle on my own.
Finally, my dad emerged from his study beyond a need to use the bathroom or grab a beer. He came out to locate me and show me something I hadn't seen on his face in a long while: a smile. Confused, I sat him down at the kitchen table and called for him to talk without leaving the room.
"We will find her," he said.
"Find who?" I asked, puzzled and worr
ied at the same time.
"The one who tore this family apart. The one who shot Tommy in the gas station."
"She's a woman? How did you—?"
"The shooter wore a mask, but I could tell straight away it was female."
"Wait," I said. "Does that mean you've seen the security footage?"
He nodded.
My eyes fell to the floor wondering how hard that must have been. "Did you see Tommy...?" I trailed off, not wanting to complete my thought.
"Yeah. I saw when he, you know, got hit."
I shook my head, trying not to throw up thinking about it. I needed to change the subject fast. "I thought the police stated their main suspect wasn't behind it and that they had no more leads."
Dad chuckled, but not happily, more of an angry feeling he was doing his best to conceal. "Turns out that was all a bunch of lies. I don't know what they're trying to cover up, but I finally got my hands on the security footage. It's clearly a woman on there firing at the store clerk. Her face is covered, but we will find her."
"A woman?" I asked again. "You're positive?" We all assumed the robber was male. It was usually the way these things went. The police had been nothing but vague about the shooting. None of the detectives would give us any information when we begged for it either.
"Yes. I promise you. You'll see it when I show you the recording."
I tried to take in what he was saying. He sounded half insane the way he was going about the whole thing. I didn't know if I should have continued to ask him questions or tell him he needed help. My curiosity won out. "Okay, so you've got this masked woman on camera who killed Tommy. How do you find her?"
"Simple," he said with a wide smile as he leaned back, arms crossed. "We work out who the man is in the recording who rushed into the gas station two seconds after she shot Tommy and dragged her out of there. If we get to him, we'll identify her."
I stared at Dad unsure how I was supposed to react to his manic behavior. Was this his way of dealing with Mom's death? If only we could afford therapy, I'd drag both of us to a session every week. Dad more so than me, but he'd never go.
I continued to listen to his plans and how he thought he might find this man in the recording to get to Tommy's shooter. It was all I could do to keep him talking to me outside the depths of his study. Granted, the topic didn't make for the best of conversations, it was still Dad and I speaking more than three words to each other.
I could only hope this obsession wouldn't consume him and become the new norm.
Chapter 44
Marie – Now
I get shuffled to the SUV in a hurry through a warm nighttime breeze. It's a pleasant feeling on my face compared to the stuffy air I'd been breathing in and out all night inside. In this abrupt moment, I feel relaxed and almost forget where I am.
The rear passenger door to Steven's car opens. I am placed into the back seat of the immaculate vehicle by Toni while Steven hangs back for a minute. Toni applies a second wrist zip tie restraint to me for strength and then ducks down to rebind my ankles. She keeps her eyes on me while her dad runs inside my house for the last few things he'd brought along for this trip, including the signal jammer.
It's only a small box, but that damn thing gave me hell when I thought Steven was one of Zach's goons sent to kill me. I have to admit Toni played her part as Beth to perfection when she freaked out about her cell losing its capability to get online.
With the jammer offline and out of my way, an opportunity presented itself. All I have in my possession is the knife I had planned on burying into Steven's neck when the time came. I could cut away my zip ties when no one is looking and escape out the car. Of course, I first have to break through the child-locked doors and windows I saw Toni engage.
My only other plan to survive tonight involves getting in contact with Dustin somehow so he can send the cavalry running my way to arrest these people. It wasn't a possibility before with the signal jammer. Now, all I need to do is get my hands on a cell. I have his number memorized. I could even shoot him a text to start the ball rolling.
As we rush away from my house, I want to ask more than anything else where we’re going, but I recognize that question will fall on deaf ears. I don't know if this is part of a contingency plan or if it's a kneejerk reaction Steven is having. Either way, I'm heading further into the unknown.
What if they run me out to the desert and kill me? What if they drag me across the border to Mexico, never to return? I let the wild thoughts consume me as per usual. There's no point in trying to regulate my anxiety. Things have progressed too far beyond my command over the last day for me to think rationally about the world.
"Take the next left," Toni says.
I push up on my wrists and realize she is using the cell to guide them to a certain stop. I don't understand what to make of that information. Plus, her screen sits past where I can fully see to learn the desired location ahead.
I can't help but wonder why Toni isn't driving with Steven working me over in the back seat like some form of mobile torture chamber. It seems to be a wasted opportunity, but I won't let them in on my sick idea. All I hope from my observation is that Toni still has control of the situation or at least enough pull to stop her dad from taking things too far as he had before. My shoulder throbs with the thought.
I slump against the window and try to take in dying views of downtown as we head toward the industrial side of the municipality. Less and less housing barrios fill the area as the smell of oil and steel consume my senses. A bump in the road tells me we've crossed over from the outskirts of the city to a commercial park. Soon, the three of us will be alone again.
Steven pulls the car into a gravel-covered lot off a street littered with cracks. A sign in the front warns all about trespassing or dumping trash in both English and Spanish. I glance left and right and see more of these empty lots interspersed with factories and the occasional house. Could I run to one of these places and find someone inside to help me? It seems unlikely at this hour.
"Kill the lights," Toni says over Steven's shoulder. He does so and shuts off the engine. And just like that, we blend into the background. There's no person around for miles, but I can still hear the city in the distance, along with the sounds of the distant highways.
Toni holds out the cell she used to guide us here. I spot a near identical one within the bag. It must be the water-damaged unit. I wonder if it has dried out enough to function. I only need to make a quick call.
"We have little time if we're planning to get her talking with only words," Steven says like I don't exist.
"I'm aware," she says. "I'll call out to you when I'm done."
I try not to let my confusion interrupt their ‘private’ conversation. What’s Toni going to do when we're alone?
Steven climbs out of the car and heads around to Toni's rear door. She winds the window down with the press of a button. What more do they have to say to each other? I see him rummaging through a separate bag from Toni's until he pulls out a second handgun.
The revolver gets placed into Toni's hand as casually as anything else would. It's not the same type of weapon Steven has on him. Maybe a backup? I feel a lump in my throat take over just looking at it, forcing me to press my body hard against the door. Toni puts the gun away into her backpack and zips it up. What does she need it for?
She turns to me with her fake and friendly smile, the one that can read my mind. "Don't worry," she says. "He doesn't trust you to be alone with me in such a tight space. If you do as you're told though, I won't ever have to touch it."
I give her a rushed smile, not wanting her to realize how scared I am. I only hope she doesn't use the weapon to get me talking.
I'm forced to think about my day in court against Zach. My testimony contributed strongly to him going away for life. I still remember standing outside the courtroom with Dustin as the DA coached me on exactly what to say. One wrong word and the deal was off the table. I'd go back to facing several char
ges that would see me locked up in a tiny jail cell until the day I died.
It was either Zach or me. I couldn't have gone to jail. I wouldn't have made it longer than a few days on the inside.
Toni snaps me out of my thoughts by clicking her fingers in front of my eyes, instantly reminding me I'm a prisoner of a different kind.
Chapter 45
Toni – Then
Two years went by. It was hard to fathom that time could flow at a normal rate after my mother passed away, but somehow, against our wishes, life moved on. At least it did for the people around us. For Dad and me though, each day was as trying and as long as the last.
I continued to live at home to be close to Dad, putting my studies on hold indefinitely. He needed me there to keep him from hitting rock bottom. Whether he cared to admit to it, he was depressed and broken, and only someone who understood the pain daily life had become could help.
Every day when I woke up, for a short moment, I thought I was back in high school. My parents had preserved my room in such a way it was easy for my delicate mind to believe so. My eyes would wander the space in a half-dazed confusion, convinced for a split second I was in a better age when my mom and brother were still alive. Then my brain would pull the rug from under my feet to force me to remember. I could see why Mom chose to slip away into the darkness. Reality was too much to bear on a good day.
Dad hadn't worked a day since Mom's funeral, not that I blamed him. We were living off a combination of my part-time job at the coffee shop and what remained of my parents' savings. My mom left Dad everything in her will, most of which he already had access to. The only extra money we got was from her 401k, and we were going to need it. I couldn't predict how long we could maintain this course. It became my burden to get Dad out of his rut and back to work.
Before our lives were torn apart, my dad still worked as an EMT. He relied upon Mom's income as a librarian to support the household, meaning our budget took a big hit when Tommy came along. Dad loved working from the back of an ambulance despite the challenges and various difficulties it threw his way. The horror stories I'd heard when I was old enough to hear them made me wonder why he put up with such a job. It only added to the invincible image I already had of Dad. Nothing in this world could break him. That was until he found Tommy shot in the chest in a Long Beach gas station.
He's At Your Door: a gripping psychological thriller Page 14
