Susan, as if reading her thoughts, grinned and sat on the edge of the bed. It was all Gwen could do not to kick her with her free foot.
“Listen,” Susan said, “I get it. You don’t trust me, but you’re going to get through this. In a couple of hours, Bill and I plan to take you and Annie to the rendezvous we set up with your little computer friend, Trixie. She’ll give us the money, we’ll give her the two of you, and we never have to see each other again.”
“Why should I believe you?”
Susan lifted one shoulder. “No reason, really, except that you have no other choice.”
Gwen nodded at once. Of course she was right. And after all, Gwen thought, she might be telling the truth. If all Susan wanted was the money, and not some petty revenge, it was possible she’d let them go. Gwen and Annie would have to hide out for a while, maybe a year or more, just to be safe, but Gwen knew plenty of places they could do that. Everything, however, hinged on whether Susan would be satisfied with the money.
“Okay,” Gwen said. “What do you need me to do?”
Susan smiled, the expression more genuine this time. “Not a thing. Go where I tell you to go, and don’t try anything. Do that, and this will all be over by dinnertime tonight.”
Susan got off the bed, stretched her long, trim body, and then, as if remembering something, shook her head. “I almost forgot. You haven’t eaten in a while. Do you want me to send up some food?”
As if the word “food” had brought her hunger to life, Gwen’s stomach seized with deep, famished pain. She opened her mouth, ready to beg, but snapped it closed a second later. When Bill had drugged her, he’d used a needle, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t put another dose in her food. If she hadn’t been so parched, she would have thought twice about the water pitcher, too. She had to fight with herself for several seconds to recognize the sense in this thinking.
She licked her lips and tried to steady her voice. “No, but thanks. I could use a shower and change of clothes. And a toothbrush, if it’s not too much to ask.”
Susan’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but she nodded. “Sure. I’ll have Bill take you to the washroom down the hall. You’re thinner than I am, but I should have something you can borrow. I’ll give you some plastic wrap for that cast, too.”
“Thanks.”
Susan nodded and turned to leave, but paused in the doorway, glancing back. “I hope you listen to sense, Gwen. Don’t fuck this up. I meant what I said. I just want the money. I don’t want to have to kill either of you. Annie meant something to me once, and since she likes you, I don’t want to hurt her that way.”
Gwen nodded. “Okay. I believe you.”
Susan lifted an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but said nothing more, closing and locking the door behind her.
Bill arrived about half an hour later to escort her to the shower. Unlike Susan, he didn’t bother making nice, not saying a word and holding a gun on her the moment he unlocked her ankle. She managed to stand up, wavering as her head reeled and she found her equilibrium. She felt incredibly weak, and the various pains in her body were screaming for attention, but her head was definitely clearer than last night—the drug now out of her system.
In the hallway, they passed another closed door, and Gwen almost asked to stop and see Annie. One glance at Bill’s face and she knew he would deny the request, so they continued without pausing. Bill seemed to think he was going to come into the bathroom with her, but once she stared at him without moving, he blushed a little and gestured with his gun.
“Go ahead, but don’t try anything. I’ll be standing out here listening. I hear anything, I’m coming in, so don’t even try to lock the door or go out the window.”
“I’m done with jumping out of windows. Did enough of that the other night.”
He didn’t smile at this joke, and Gwen eased into the bathroom and closed the door. There was, in fact, a lock here on the inside, but he was right. She had simply no reason to try anything. She hadn’t gotten a good look outside, but they were at least a story off the ground. With all her various injuries, it would be stupid. Anyway, she would never leave Annie. But how would he know that? She started to take off her clothes.
She stood as long as she dared under the hot water, worried he would burst in. Everything was awkward with her cast, which, as directed, she’d wrapped in cellophane. She’d never realized how difficult it would be to wash her hair one-handed. The hot water, however, was wonderful, almost a revelation. She let it stream down her face and back, trying to loosen her sore shoulder. If she’d been awake when the doctor had been here, she’d have told him to check it out, as it hurt now even more than her wrist. Blood and actual dirt came off her body in surprising volume, and when she finally finished, she was grateful to see some clothes, a toothbrush, and new bandages waiting for her on the vanity by the sink. The clothes were, as Susan had predicted, almost clownishly large, but she’d been given a belt to hold up the pants, and at least they were clean. As she was fixing the last of the new bandages to her eyebrow—a deep cut that needed stitches—Bill pounded on the door.
“Hurry up in there. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
“Okay. Almost finished.”
She leaned down to the sink and drank as much water as she could, cupped in her hands. She was still dehydrated and didn’t want to have to ask them for any food or drink if she could help it. If Susan was telling the truth, Trixie could take them to the nearest restaurant for a big meal later. She smiled, not believing it for one minute. They’d be lucky to live that long.
When she finally opened the door, Bill and Susan were waiting for her in the hall. Susan smiled at the sight of her.
“Much better.”
“Thanks.”
“Bill—go get Annie. We need to get moving in case we hit traffic.”
Bill walked over to the closed door, drawing out a key before unlocking and opening the door.
“Where are we going?” Gwen asked. She had to fight not to watch Bill in her eagerness to see Annie again.
“A state park outside of town. It should be fairly empty on a weekday, and it’s close. I didn’t want to drag this out more than necessary.”
Bill and Annie appeared a moment later. Like Gwen, she was clearly wearing Susan’s clothes, and the size difference was even more extreme on her. Now that she could see her clearly, Gwen thought it looked as if she’d lost some weight—her face was wan and sallow, seemingly thinner than before. Of course that was impossible, and probably an illusion brought on by the overly large clothes, but she nevertheless looked unwell. Her hair was dark with grease and sweat and tied into an unflattering knot on top of her head. The worst part of seeing her, however, was noting the fact that Annie’s hands were bound in front of her. She was also still wearing a gag.
“What the hell?” Gwen said, taking a step toward them. “Why is she still—”
Susan put a hand on her arm, lightly. “Calm down. She’s fine—aren’t you, Annie?”
Annie’s eyes met Gwen’s, clearly terrified, but they flickered over to Susan, and she nodded.
“See?” Susan asked. “She’s fine.”
“You bitch,” Gwen said.
Susan waved a single finger. “Uh, uh, uh. You said you were going to be a good girl, Gwen. Is that how good girls talk?”
Gwen had to fight back a retort, and she clenched her fists against her side, the fingers on her right hand digging in her cast. “No. I’m sorry.”
Susan gave her bright smile. “Okay, then. We’re keeping Annie tied up so the two of you won’t talk. We have our reasons, and I don’t have to explain myself. Just do as you’re told, and you can untie Annie yourself later when we have the money.”
As much as Gwen wanted to argue, she saw no point. She and Annie were close now, close to whatever was going to happen. They would either be free and eating shitty diner food in a couple of hours, or dead. Either way, fighting now would help neither of them.
“Okay. Tell
us what to do.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Gwen and Annie were directed downstairs and then into a garage. Bill and Susan debated for a while, trying to decide whether to take two cars, and finally told them to get into the back of Bill’s car. As she slid in, Gwen saw a smear of blood on the front passenger seat from her ride up there, whenever that had been. Annie saw it too as she came in after her and started struggling, twisting in her seat and moaning through her gag. Bill slammed the door after them.
“Shh,” Gwen said. “It’s okay. That’s my blood. I’m okay and you’re okay. Let’s just do what they say, and maybe we can get out of this.”
Annie stared at her for a long time and then nodded before collapsing back into the seat. She did nothing as Gwen buckled her into the seat belt. Bill and Susan stood outside, still arguing. Annie’s wrists were red and chafed from the plastic zip tie holding them together. The plastic tie was attached to her pants through one of the belt loops, ostensibly to stop her from removing her gag. Gwen massaged Annie’s hands, and she stiffened and drew away as far as she could toward the door on her side.
“What? What’s the matter? I’m only trying to help.”
Annie shook her head, eyebrows drawn, and for a moment Gwen felt she was talking to someone else—a stranger. Despite all their time together on the road and in Denver, she didn’t trust her anymore. Did she blame her for all this?
“Annie, I’m so sorry. I was only trying to help. I didn’t know Bill would be there at the house in Santa Fe. He got the jump on me. I was stupid.”
Annie stared at her and then rolled her eyes. “Nrrrr Annnni!” she said again.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Annie didn’t have a chance to try to explain further, as Bill got in the front, slamming his door.
“Fucking bitch,” he said, clearly referring to his wife. He turned around, taking them both in. “You.” He pointed at Gwen. “Keep your fucking trap shut. I’ve had enough chitchat from bitches today.”
He pressed a button on a large remote, and the garage door began to open. He waited until it was about halfway up before gunning the engine and racing down the driveway, tearing onto the road so fast the momentum threw her sideways. Gwen glanced back and saw Susan standing there in the doorway garage before trees blocked the house.
“Why isn’t she coming?”
“Shut up,” Bill snarled. “I said I don’t want to talk to you. Don’t say another word, and I won’t have to hurt you.”
Annie whimpered slightly next to her, and Gwen put a hand on her shoulder to soothe her. Annie tried to shrug it off, and Gwen put her hand back in her lap, hurt by this reaction more than she should be. Annie was upset and didn’t want to be touched—it was as simple as that, but it felt like a rejection. Gwen blinked back tears and stared out the window at the pastoral landscape sweeping by outside.
The drive was quick, less than half an hour. Gwen, upset, began to pay attention to where they were only when Bill began to slow down. She’d never have been able to retrace their way back to Bill and Susan’s.
Bill turned into a dirt road off the small highway they’d been on, and a half a mile or so later, they reached a pay station for the state park. It was unmanned, but Bill got out and bought one of the three-dollar day passes in the little brown box and put it on his dashboard. All of this seemed out of character for him, but maybe he knew something she didn’t.
The parking lot was almost deserted. Only three other cars were parked here, and Gwen spotted, with something simultaneously like dread and elation, that Trixie’s classic orange Ford sedan was already here. Bill pulled into a parking spot far from the other cars, near the picnic area, and turned off his engine. It ticked and rattled for a moment as it cooled, and he turned in his seat.
“Stay here and don’t try anything. If you fuck up this deal, I’ll kill you and this nutcase.”
He climbed out and slammed the door, walking over to one of the picnic tables. Gwen immediately rolled down her window, hoping to be able to hear what was going on. Bill stopped at one of the tables and sat down backward, resting back on his elbows. He was clearly trying to seem relaxed, but even from here, she could see anxious tension in his face—the same expression he’d had when he was trying to kill her. She hoped to God Trixie knew what she was doing.
She glanced at Annie, who was staring down at her legs, seeming uninterested in what was happening outside. Gwen shook her head, a little flare of temper heating her blood. It wasn’t as if any of this was actually her fault. She’d been ambushed. Why had Annie come to Dallas before negotiating with them?
“Annie—”
Her head whipped up. “Nrrrrr Annni!”
Gwen took a quick glance outside to make sure Bill was still at the table and reached for Annie’s gag. Annie wrenched her head back and away, shaking it fast and hard. Gwen held up her hands.
“Jesus, okay! I thought you’d want it off.”
Annie shook her head again and hunched into herself, her shoulders curved and huddled, as if for protection. For Gwen, Annie might as well have slapped her. This time, however, rather than hurt, she felt betrayed.
“Fine. Fuck you, Annie. Let’s get through this, and we never have to see each other again.”
Annie shook her head, and Gwen focused back on Bill, forcing herself to pay attention. She needed to care about what was happening out there, but her anger and indignation were making it difficult.
Bill was still sitting at the bench, but some of his fake casualness had clearly evaporated, as he was now bunched up, elbows on his knees, one foot tapping impatiently.
“Come on, Trixie,” Gwen whispered. This was not the kind of man to keep waiting. She barely knew him, but she could tell he could barely hold things together in the best of situations, let alone if his patience was tested. He wasn’t wearing his holstered gun right now, but he probably had one or more on him somewhere. Another minute or two passed, and Bill, clearly fed up, jumped to his feet and started pacing. He was rubbing his hands together, almost as if he wanted to do something else with them.
Finally, Gwen saw movement at the far end of the parking lot and almost sagged with relief at the sight of Trixie walking toward them. She was wearing a neon-orange pencil skirt and a bright-green top that matched her heels—hardly the outfit to wear to hostage negotiation, but Gwen had never been happier to see someone. Bill spotted her too and stopped pacing, his face crinkling. He didn’t seem to know who she was.
Trixie stopped on the sidewalk about twenty feet from his table. “Are you Bill?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s Susan? I was supposed to meet her.”
“She’s not here. And you weren’t supposed to be here alone, either.”
Trixie gestured helplessly. “We thought it would be smarter. Eggs in one basket and all that.”
Bill lifted his hands. “Same here.”
“Are they here?”
Bill pointed at his car, and Gwen waved. She saw Trixie’s shoulders drop with obvious relief. “Oh, thank God.”
“Do you have access to the money?”
Trixie paused, staring at him. “I do. I can give it to you as soon as I make a phone call.”
“How the hell are you going to do that?”
She reached for her purse, and Gwen saw Bill tense, one hand going to the back of his pants. He had a gun there, but he didn’t draw it. Trixie, seeing his movement, paused and held up her hands. “I have a phone in my purse. Can I get it out?”
Bill’s shoulders relaxed a little, but he kept his hand on his gun. “Okay, but slowly.”
Moving at an almost comically slow pace, Trixie unzipped the little purse at her side and pulled out a phone, which she held up for him to see.
“I need an account number,” she said.
“Susan already told you that,” Bill said, almost snarling. “She’s the only one who knows about that stuff. Stop fucking around. Transfer the money to our account, and you can
drive away with your friends here.”
“What’s to stop you from shooting me? Once I give you and Susan the money, why not just kill all three of us?”
Bill laughed and gestured around them. “Out here? In the open like this? Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life in prison? How stupid do you think I am?”
Trixie smiled. “Actually, Bill, I think you’re a fucking moron. You just confessed in front of the entire police department.”
She didn’t wait for him to react. Instead, Trixie ran toward her and Annie, slunk near the ground and gesturing for the two of them to get down. Gwen bent toward her lap as far as she could and then reached over and pushed Annie down as well. Annie struggled under her hand, and as Gwen tried to explain, they began to hear shouting and the pounding boots of many people. Someone was screaming at Bill to throw down his weapon, and he was arguing with them. She was bent too far down to see much of anything, but a shadow appeared on her side of car. She could hear several people nearby.
“Stay down,” a man’s voice growled outside the car. Gwen didn’t know if he meant the two of them or Trixie, who, she assumed, was still crouched somewhere near the car.
Gwen heard Bill yelling some more, and then one or two people out there shouted in triumph, and more people were running around. She heard Bill curse and complain, but his voice sounded muffled, contained, almost as if something was restricting his mouth.
The shadow moved and fell directly on her. The man spoke again. “Okay. You can sit up now. Show me your hands, and don’t make any quick movements.”
Gwen obeyed, holding her hands up and out. A uniformed police officer bent next to her door, peering in. His eyes, however, were fixed on Annie, who was still twisted almost double.
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Gwen tried to keep her voice calm and quiet. “You can sit up now, Annie. Everything’s going to be okay.”
On the Run Page 21
