He's At Your Door: a gripping psychological thriller

by Alex Sinclair

  I scoffed. "What a pair of idiots. Why'd they do it?"

  Dad pursed his lips. "My guess is they were adrenaline junkies along for the ride, each infatuated with some bank-robbing idiot. What does that tell you?"

  I shrugged and tried my best not to get frustrated. "That they were swayed to do something stupid."

  "A good thought there, but what it explains is why our shooter disappeared."

  "What do you mean?" I asked, arms crossed firm.

  "Simple. She cut a deal. Someone urged her to testify against Zachary or face the full brunt of the law over Tommy's shooting."

  I gripped the nearest dining room chair in a flash to stop myself from falling over. "Are you saying she got away with it?"

  "Nothing else makes sense. All this time we've been chasing a ghost. This woman should be in prison for her part in the bank robbery alone, so to not be charged for what she did at the gas station would take something as big as testifying against a dangerous criminal."

  I found myself with both hands on the dining room chair for stability. It was a lot to accept, even on a good day. I stood there trying to wrap my head around it all until one thought blared out at me. "Wait," I said, looking at my dad in the eyes. "You mentioned they convicted this Zach guy of two separate crimes."

  "That's right. And both cases were near identical. Each witness who testified against him was a woman. Both were, at some point, his girlfriend. The feds used these morons to bring him down in flames for one bank robbery each."

  "Then they made them state witnesses," I muttered.

  "Bingo. Two female eyewitnesses: Rose Melton and Marie Williams. Two cases. Both ended the same way. One of them had to have killed our Tommy and caused your mother to drive herself to those damn pills."

  I shook my head as a surge of emotions flooded my system until anger won. "So how do we figure out who murdered Tommy?"

  Chapter 48

  Marie – Now

  Toni continues to push me with her questions, trying her finest to get specifics out of me. But once I’ve decided I can't go through with my desperate plan, I pull back from the conversation, put up my walls, and try to shut her out as best as I can. My knife remains hidden.

  "I don't understand you, Marie. One moment you seem ready to open up and tell me everything. The next, you’re closing down on me. Why?" Toni places the cell up onto the rear shelf of the SUV and keeps it recording and pointed at us.

  She sits across from me in the backseat of her father's ride. Steven's outside, still smoking, on his second cigarette as if one stick wasn't sufficient.

  I keep my eyes low and focused on the floor so Toni can't engage me the way she'd like to. It's angering the hell out of her, but for now I've made my decision not to hurt her or her father. I can't ruin their lives any more than I already have.

  I will still do what I can to escape this mess though. It will just have to involve luck and timing to execute the only other plan that comes to mind.

  "Not answering me, huh? That's not a smart play, especially when you know who’s waiting for you outside of this car." She makes a thumb over her shoulder toward her dad. He's gotten rough with me tonight, not holding back on physical violence to get me to talk. If this entire endeavor were up to him, he'd have already cut me until the truth bled out. My body would have been dropped off somewhere in the desert by now. The feeling is impossible to ignore.

  "You don't want things to reach that point again, do you, Marie? I saw that look of fear in your eyes when I came out and stopped him."

  I lift myself as a thought hits my brain, one that will get Toni upset where I need her. "You knew your dad would do that though, didn't you? You wanted him to stab me."

  Toni shakes her head. "It's not like that." She leans in closer. "I promise."

  She's playing good cop, bad cop with me, acting out each role. That much is as plain as day. "I know it is. You hate me with every fiber in your being. This is all an act to lure me in and break down my walls. You want me to confess everything and suffer the consequences. Then, you'll pull the trigger on that gun you have tucked away there, just like your father wants you to."

  Toni's mouth is agape with a slight tremble as she stares at me. I've struck something deep within. Her fists clench as her eyes shut tight. Here we go.

  "You don't know what you're talking about." The back of her hand comes flying out and slaps me hard across the face quicker than I expect. A tearing sensation slices through my skin, worse than it should. My hands lift to my cheek and touch the numb area. When my fingers draw away, the tips are coated in blood. I look to Toni to see an old ring on the hand that slapped me. A decent-sized diamond pokes out into the world like a dagger.

  Toni's breathing speeds up with the rage inside her she has been trying to contain this entire week. There's no point her holding back now.

  "Where did you get that rock from?" I ask.

  "Never you mind."

  "No, no. It looks expensive and not really something a person your age would wear. Was it your grandmother's? An auntie maybe?" I study her face and see it twitch. "No, someone closer."

  "It was my mom's ring, okay?"

  "Was?" I ask without thinking.

  "Yeah, was. She's dead. She died in her sleep mixing too many pills and alcohol together, all because she was struggling to drown out the pain of losing her little boy."

  My heart skips a beat. I had no idea what happened to her mother. I knew she existed back when Dustin offered me the deal, but that was the first and last time she ever entered my thoughts. Learning she overdosed on pills and alcohol because I shot her kid only sends another solid brick of guilt down into my core. But I can't let that stop me. I should be on the floor, begging for Toni's forgiveness, but I'm trying to survive. And the only way forward is to push this girl into a corner.

  "She'd be ashamed of you if she saw what you two were up to."

  Her hand flies out again. I flinch but don't feel a thing. She restrained herself, seeing the blood on my face. Her tensed shoulders drop. I can see she will lose angered momentum unless I keep poking for her emotions to take control. It's my only hope.

  "I must be on the money, huh? This whole time you've wanted to beat me senseless, just like dear old dad."

  Toni's eyes narrow in. Giving me the information I need.

  "That's right. You convince yourself that you're nothing like him, that you won't let the rage seize you, but—"

  "Shut up!" she yells. "I'm not like that."

  "Oh, really? Because I think I'm onto something here. This little fact pains you, doesn't it. Like psycho father, like psycho daughter. Your poor mother." I tsk at Toni twice.

  Toni's eyes clench tight again as she tries to push me out by holding her palms to her head. "Shut up," she whispers, edging closer to a meltdown.

  "Admit it," I press. "You can't control yourself."

  A second later, her hands dig into the backpack and pull out the pistol. "Just shut your damn mouth!" she yells as she points the gun at my face.

  I do as told while keeping my eyes locked onto Toni's. She's pulled the revolver out exactly as I want her to. Now, I have to tread lightly and pray that Steven is far enough away to not hear our exchange.

  Toni's breathing is as ragged as her shaking arm that's aiming the gun at my head. She bares her teeth as if she wants to take a bite out of me. I've never seen her want me dead so much while also doing what she can to hold back. One wrong move, and a bullet will end my life.

  "So you understand how to shut up now. Amazing," Toni says through a half-clenched jaw.

  "I guess so." It's enough of a response to keep her angry while hopefully not sending her over the edge.

  "Well then, seeing as you can't be silenced, it's time you talked. What did you do to my brother? What did you do to Tommy Price?"

  I'd almost forgotten her cell was recording all of this from the shelf of the rear window. Is she really trying to go for a confession now? All anyone will see is an angry wo
man holding a gun to my head. Anything I admit won't be taken seriously.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I say.

  "Don't bullshit me!" she yells. "Tell me the truth." She presses the weapon closer. I understand this thing is loaded and ready to fire in the hands of an emotionally stressed person, but I have to continue with my plan.

  "What did you do to my brother? One more lie and I swear to god I'll—"

  "Okay, I'll talk. Just lower that down please."

  She doesn't comply straight away, but after a moment of thought, the gun lowers enough so it's no longer in my face. Toni keeps her focus on me while gripping the weapon. "Speak."

  "You win," I say, ready to make my move. "Your brother. I walked into the gas station that night and…" I shift my eyes from Toni to her father outside and frown.

  Toni glances in that direction and gazes at her dad in confusion, long enough for me to snatch the revolver clean out of her control. She tries to grab it back, but I elbow her away by turning sideways with a quick strike. The cell phone falls to the floor in the scuffle as I get a solid grip on the weapon.

  "Don't move." I point the gun at her chest. I hate having this object in my fingers. It only reminds me of the horrible thing I did to this girl's family. But I have no choice but to wield it and take over if I want to escape.

  Toni doesn't budge or make a sound. She appreciates what I'm capable of. She knows the wreck I've become.

  With her under control, all that's left is to get out of the car and ensure Steven won't catch wind of the situation and shoot me.

  What could go wrong?

  Chapter 49

  Toni – Then

  We hit a wall. We were positive Dad had worked out there were two women who could have shot Tommy, but we didn't know who out of Rose Melton and Marie Williams was guilty. To make matters worse, both girls were in witness protection with fresh pseudonyms, living in what could be any part of the country. We needed to visit Zachary Sanchez in prison to work out which girl he pulled from the gas station that night.

  We couldn't just go to the federal jail directly. Dad feared the moment we checked into the front desk someone would notify the US marshals. How would we explain our presence there? Zach was one of a few select people who knew the identity of Tommy's shooter. We needed a way in that wouldn't see us held up for hours of questioning.

  Three months passed with no solution coming to light. I could tell it was killing Dad on the inside to be so close to the truth while also being as far away as possible from getting the next piece of the puzzle.

  "Come on, damn it!" he yelled at his laptop.

  We were sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen having lunch. I'd gotten him to bring his computer out from his study for a few hours a day so he wouldn't stay hidden inside that dank room for weeks on end. I told him he had to look after himself a lot more, otherwise I would force him to speak to a therapist. Reluctantly, he'd agreed to try.

  "What's wrong?" I asked as I sipped an espresso while browsing on my phone. I was about to head off for an afternoon shift at the coffee shop.

  "Nothing," he muttered.

  "It sounds like something. What is it?"

  Dad let a long breath flow out through his nostrils. "It's nothing. Just thought I had a lead is all."

  "What did you find?" I asked.

  "A name of a US Marshal who could have been handling the girls."

  "That's good, isn't it?"

  "It is, but I can't confirm what he had to do with Zachary's case. These files I paid for are all locked up. We have to bribe someone higher up the chain than a desk clerk if we ever want to find something decent."

  Dad no longer said things like "I have to, or I should do this." Instead, he always said "we" and thought of us as a team. Father and daughter. We were both obsessed with one topic: finding Tommy's killer. Any sin committed in the process would reflect upon us both.

  "So, what was the US Marshal's name?"

  Dad glanced at his screen. I could see his eyes darting left and right over and over until he saw the man mentioned again. "Deputy US Marshal Dustin Taylor."

  I shrugged to myself. "What makes you think he had anything to do with the girls?"

  "That's just it. I know he had to be involved with at least one of them. Maybe both. His name is all over the sign-in log for every court date Sanchez had."

  "He was probably watching the case to get a feel for Sanchez as a person to see how badly either girl needed the witness protection." I ceased talking as my brain took over with another thought. "Were there any other US Marshals signing in during that time?"

  Dad's eyes scanned away. His fingers danced over the keyboard, searching for an answer to my question. He stopped typing. "None. Just Deputy US Marshal Dustin Taylor."

  Our minds met for a brief second as we each came to the same conclusion at once. I spoke first. "He was working both cases. Both girls."

  Dad nodded as his mouth curled into a half smile. "He had to have been. Why else was he there?"

  "If it's true, how do we locate this guy?"

  Dad slumped a little in his chair. His happy face faded along with any hope I had just found.

  "That's the thing. Finding him is a piece of cake. He's a government employee. I could call his desk phone now."

  "So, why don't you?"

  He shook his head. "As soon as he works out who I am, he won't have a word to say to me. In fact, he'll probably send a few officers out to pick me up for a 'voluntary' interview just for speaking with him. Not something we need."

  My hand found its way to my forehead. That was it. We couldn't visit Zach at the prison. We couldn't speak to the US Marshal who handled the girls. We'd never find Tommy's killer. Not without some luck. "This is such bullshit."

  "Hey, it's okay," Dad said. "We'll figure out another angle."

  "No, we won't!" I yelled, slapping printouts Dad had stacked on the bench. The papers flew into the air and took their time fluttering about as they fell to the tiles below.

  A gentle arm found its way to my shoulder. "Come on, honey. Let's forget this thing for a moment and try to relax, huh?"

  "Relax?" I scoffed. "How the hell do you think I can ever loosen up and not let this bother me? I'm about to start another shift at the coffee shop. When that's over, I need to run home and make you dinner, clean the house, and sort out the bills while you hide in the study some more."

  His hand cowered in silence as I breathed hard. I could almost feel the guilt and shame he'd no doubt be feeling radiating out. Either that, or he was too broken to argue with me anymore.

  He had let his life be consumed by the loss of his son and wife. I doubt it ever occurred to him that he still had a daughter who needed him to be there for her. Every moment he spent trying to pin down Tommy's killer only made him less of a father.

  We remained silent. I tried to sip my coffee, but it tasted sour. A moment later, I slid off the high stool and grabbed my cell, leaving my drink where it sat. I would be tidying up the house as soon as I got home, so there was no point in taking it to the sink.

  "I have to go," I muttered over my shoulder as I strolled away.

  "I'm sorry," Dad said.

  Stopping at the edge of the room, I faced him. He'd never once apologized for the way he treated me. He never thanked me for the meals I prepared him. Never did he acknowledge the effort I put in around the house or the sacrifice I'd made with my schooling.

  "You're sorry? For what? This?"

  "No. Everything. For putting so much of my problems on you. For ruining your life." His eyes welled up.

  I let out a sigh as I crossed my arms. I'd never seen this side of him before. "You didn't ruin my life," I said as I walked his way. "You didn't kill Tommy. You're not responsible for Mom's death." I stopped at his laptop and pointed. "It was one of these two cowards who have been hiding all this time."

  Dad hung his head, possibly trying to hide from me as best he could.

  I grabbed him
by the chin, something I never imagined doing to a parent, and snatched his gaze. "You want to make all of this up to me? Find us a way in to see Zach or work out how we can get the info we need from the damn US Marshal. Do whatever you have to do. Identify the girl who destroyed our family."

  He nodded, firming up his expression before he wiped away his tears. "I'll do it. I won't let you down."

  Chapter 50

  Marie - Now

  The small revolver feels light in my hand. It looks like a snub-nose thirty-eight with no hammer. Zach taught me all about the different handguns he used in robberies. For some reason, the information stuck. There's no safety on this weapon, so I need to be careful not to touch the trigger unless I mean it. All I can hope is that tonight does not reach such a point.

  "What are you doing, Marie?" Toni asks, her hands raised.

  "Keep your arms down. I don't want you grabbing your dad's attention. If I see him head this way because of you, I'll shoot. Got it?"

  Toni nods. She seems calmer than expected. I, on the other hand, have a surge of adrenaline running through my system that is making my hands shake a little. I need to get it together fast before she talks me into handing her the gun back. God knows it feels toxic in my hands.

  "What's the plan here, Marie?" Toni pushes.

  "The plan is for you to keep quiet. Now reach into your backpack and grab out a few of those damn zip tie restraints. And make sure you open the bag right up first so I can see into it."

  Toni nods again. "Okay. I'll do that. There's no need to do anything—"

  "Anything what? Crazy? We're past that, don't you think?" Spit comes out of my mouth as I speak. My voice cracks with emotion, but I don't care. I want this mess to be over with.

  Toni keeps her hands low and wide. "It's all good. See. I'm opening the backpack. Here are the zip ties." She points into the bag.

  "Take them out. Place one over your wrists." I wave the revolver.

  Toni takes a moment but does as I ask her and places a plastic restraint over her hands. She can't pull the tie shut without my input. I still have a tie around my wrists and ankles, so I fish out the knife that's been sitting in my pocket all this time to awkwardly cut myself loose.