While You Were Dead

by CJ Snyder

  She had noticed the guard Lizzie called Cap, but what she’d seen went further than the lack of eye contact. The man never once loosened his grip on his gun. Not once. That didn’t bode well for her plans. He also hadn’t so much as glanced at her, although he’d given Lizzie a brief, assessing once-over.

  “This is the first day they’ve let me stay awake all day. Wonder if something’s happening. Maybe the police are getting ready to storm the place.”

  How in the world did she ever give birth to such an optimist? Kat clamped her mouth shut on her gloomy, if more realistic, reply, saying instead, “You were right. The food’s not bad.”

  “Not like Uncle Max’s chili, though. He cooks it all day, fussing over it until you think you’re gonna die, it smells so good. And just when you’re ready to pass out from starvation, he delivers. Did he ever fix it for you?”

  “Yes. He did.” Kat smiled as memories hit with hurricane force. They’d made love all day, while the chili simmered. She hadn’t tasted chili since–couldn’t stand the sweet reminders the aroma evoked. Thanks to Lizzie, she could nearly taste it now. She gave herself a little shake and sought out her daughter’s face to find a knowing smirk.

  “That good, huh?” Lizzie laughed. “Made you blush! Uncle Max looks just the same way when he talks about you.”

  “He talks about me?”

  The door slammed open, making them both jump. The smile died away from Lizzie’s eyes first. By the time it left her face, Kat’s stomach was a furious, painful knot. From what she’d seen, only one person in the compound scared Lizzie like that.

  “Afternoon, ladies.”

  Kat got to her feet then, blocking his view of Lizzie. With a great effort, she kept her mouth shut, but she couldn’t stop the fire she knew raged in her eyes.

  He looked as Vic always looked. Calm and cool. Never ruffled. Kat clenched hands that itched to scratch the smirk off his face. The silence stretched and grew until it was almost tangible. He made no effort to see around her. As a matter of fact, he spent far too much time admiring the swell of her breasts, visible over the top of a skimpy black shirt. She’d put it on with hopes of distracting Max while she fed him his strawberry shake. It was working equally well with Vic. If it kept his attention away from Lizzie, that was fine with her.

  Finally, Vic returned his attention to her face and smiled. “Elizabeth and I will return shortly, Katherine.”

  Stupid or not, Kat took a step forward. Faster than she could believe, Vic caught her arm, twisting it painfully behind her even as he drew her close to him. He spoke into her ear.

  “Your choices will cost her, Kat. Not you. Be very, very careful what you do. . .what you say. I will see to it that she pays.” He cleared his throat and spun her around to face Lizzie. When he spoke again it was without a trace of that biting anger. ”You’re frightening the child, my dear.”

  Lizzie did look scared. Her gaze darted from Kat to Vic and back to Kat. Kat forced her body to relax. Vic immediately released her arm.

  “Lesson number one, my dear?”

  “Don’t hurt her, Vic.”

  “Of course not,” he soothed, chilling Kat deep inside. Who was this man? He looked like her ex-husband, sounded like the man she’d married, but his soul was pure, twisted evil. “I only thought she’d like to talk to her uncle.”

  A new threat. One she should have seen before he uttered it. What would it do to Lizzie if he told her the truth about her parentage? “I’ll go. Let me talk to him instead. I’ll tell him whatever you want.”

  Kat heard Lizzie’s mewl of protest but she doubted Vic did. Did the sudden silence mean Lizzie trusted her? She kept her eyes focused on Vic’s.

  He seemed to be considering her offer. Seemed suddenly pleased by it, actually. Dread uncoiled in her stomach, slithered up her spine. “What a marvelous idea, Kat. You’ll call, establish the connection, so to speak, and then he can listen while we renew our acquaintance.”

  Suddenly light-headed, she struggled just to stay upright. Vic stroked her cheek with the knuckles of two fingers and she stumbled back a step before she remembered Lizzie and the alternative. Her dizziness vanished. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Oh, it is. Perhaps tonight? After the children are in bed?” Finished with her, he spread one hand across her chest and pushed her against the wall, holding her there while he held out his other hand to Lizzie. “Ready, child? I’m sure your Uncle Max is quite anxious to hear from you.”

  Did Max have the line ready to trace? They’d talked about it, but after the package came, she couldn’t remember any more discussion about it. Vic couldn’t know Max’s cell phone number, but if he’d been behind the cameras at her house, he knew Max was staying there. Knew about his helplessness, too. Was a phone call really all Vic had planned?

  Lizzie sat motionless on the bed, eyes on Kat. Kat felt the tension in Vic’s hand increase, causing pressure on her chest that was painful. “Tell her it’s fine to come with me.” He glanced at her, his expression adding, “or else.” Kat gave Lizzie a nod. Lizzie ignored Vic’s hand, but she shuffled obediently toward the door. Vic didn’t lift his hand from Kat until Lizzie was outside the room. When he did, Kat grabbed it, pleading.

  “Let her go. You have what you want. You don’t need her.”

  Vic simply smiled. “I know that, love. I’m glad to know you’re wise enough to know it as well. As usual, however, you haven’t a clue what I want.” The last was a sneer, looking so out of place on his features that Kat frowned. Vic wasn’t steady. Or unflappable. He was, however, very, very angry.

  This was only the second time she’d seen a crack in his studious veneer. The first, years ago, on the second night of their marriage, she’d understood. Frustrated, fed-up after months of ardent pursuit, by a wife who couldn’t let go of a dead man, he’d had too much to drink and went a little crazy. Excusable. Explainable. But this. . ..

  He’s threatened.

  But by who? What did he want?

  He locked the door behind him and Kat leaned against it, pressing her ear to the seam of door and frame, trying to hear.

  ##

  Max had just taken another overdose of over-the-counter pain meds when the phone rang. He sat hard in Kat’s desk chair and stared at the caller ID. Two rings.

  Cell phone. CO.

  Three rings. He snatched up the receiver.

  “Crayton.”

  “Hello, Max.”

  Max grabbed Kat’s stapler with his right hand and fastened air. Snap! “Victor.” Snap! Snap! Wait for the information. Don’t rush it. Draw him out. Snap! The motion killed his ribs, tortured his wrist and the pain felt very, very good.

  “Katherine asked me to call.”

  I’ll just bet she did, you bastard. “Really? Is she there?”

  “She’s in taking a shower, actually.”

  Snap! Snap! What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Nothing. But the image was there, seared into his brain, and Kat’s pansy-assed limey of an ex-husband knew it.

  “She didn’t want you to worry about her. She’s fine. We’ve just been catching up.”

  Max chucked the stapler to the desk. “I’d prefer to talk to her myself. Given the circumstances.”

  “Of course. So sorry to hear about the little girl.”

  Liar! Max kept the accusation back at the last second. “Where are you, Vic?”

  “At my hotel. It was the closest, errr, private place we could think of.” He sounded genuinely sorry to admit to it.

  Max genuinely didn’t believe he was a bit sorry. “Have her give me call, would you?”

  “Certainly. Nice talking to you.”

  Max slammed down the phone.

  Call duration: Two minutes, nineteen seconds.

  Long enough. He nudged his cell phone against his knee, but it rang before he could get it open. Viper. Finally.

  “Was that him? Fordon?”

  “Yes. Did you get it?”

  “Just a general. Som
ewhere north of Denver. A throw-away cell but we’ll have it close in a few minutes.”

  Max’s heart sank. It had been a cell phone, after all. Did that mean Kat wasn’t in hotel room, taking a shower? If she wasn’t, then where the hell was she? “We won’t find him.”

  “No. No, not from just that call. What did he say?”

  “Kat’s with him.”

  “Voluntarily?”

  Max shut his eyes, slumping on the couch even as he blew gently on the tiny spark of hope that remained alive inside. “So he said.”

  “You believe him?”

  She wouldn’t leave him–wouldn’t run to Vic. All the years in between and she’d never given up on him. Max fanned the spark a little harder. The spark didn’t grow brighter.

  It didn’t go out, either. “I don’t know what to believe.”

  “Stay put,” Viper advised. “If Fordon is the one behind all this, he’s finally made contact, more than the notes. We’ll get him.”

  Max didn’t doubt that. The question was would they get him before or after Vic got Kat?

  ##

  Vic looked pleased with himself when he returned a short time later. Lizzie wasn’t with him. Kat opened her mouth to ask where she was but he held up a single finger and shook his head. With his earlier warnings spinning through her mind, she clenched her fists and waited. Vic looked even more pleased. He glanced at the paper-shrouded window.

  “It’ll be dark soon.”

  Not soon enough, Kat thought. Lizzie was getting out. Tonight.

  Vic’s gaze returned to her. She met it boldly. He wanted her to wait. He wanted the upper hand. She’d wait. She ordered her hands to relax. She’d interviewed serial murderers and rapists. She could handle her ex-husband.

  “Elizabeth is,” he paused and smiled, asking for her indulgence. “Sleeping.”

  Kat fought off a surge of anger, but made sure it didn’t show.

  “She went down right after we left here, so I spoke with your Max.”

  Max! Her heart stuttered and her control slipped, just the tiniest bit.

  “He seems a nice enough chap.”

  She’d never known the simple act of standing still and silent could actually kill.

  “Rather concerned about you, I must say. I told him we were catching up. That you’d call him when you got out of the shower.”

  A roar sounded in her ears, pulsing in rhythm with her heart. She barely heard Vic’s laugh.

  “I don’t know that he quite trusts you, love. He sounded quite angry by the time we finished our little chat.”

  He’s nearly finished. Kat clung to the thought, needing it to stay still. It’s all a test and you’ve nearly passed it. Questions swirled and fired from her mind, begging for release. If only he’d let Lizzie talk to Max, he’d know she was alive. If Max had traced the call, the police could be on their way now. What was he planning? Foremost of all was, why?

  Vic suddenly pounced, catching her arms at her wrists, holding them behind her while he backed her into the wall. She brought up her knee in defense, but his eyes reminded her of his warning and she let her foot drop back to the floor. “Why did you give her up, Kat? You haven’t seen her since she was born, except for those pictures Max’s sister sends you, yet you obviously care for her. So why?”

  “I can’t raise her.” He was too close, making the threat to Lizzie too real. It didn’t occur to her to lie. “You know about my mother. Insanity like that could be genetic.”

  “So you gave her up, even loving her?”

  She nodded.

  “How far will you go to save her?”

  Hope sprang wild in her heart. Was he offering her a chance? Her chin lifted with determination. “Anything. Please let her go, Vic.”

  “Anything?” His forehead touched hers, trapping her completely. His breath hit her nose in short little bursts, smelling of spearmint. Her stomach roiled as if he’d sprayed her with fertilizer. She never wanted to smell spearmint again. She shut her eyes, kept her own breaths very shallow and retreated as far as the wall would allow, every muscle tense with revulsion. “How about it, Katherine? How far?”

  The war was over in a split-second. Kat relaxed and opened her eyes. “Anything.”

  “Interesting.” He released her right wrist, but brought her left hand between their bodies. His finger moved slowly over her ringless fourth finger. Only then did he straighten, pulling back far enough to see into her eyes. Kat met him fearlessly. “We shall see.”

  He locked her in again and Kat sagged against the wall. She meant her vow, but she knew, too that intent and actions were sometimes hard to reconcile.

  ##

  She didn’t see Lizzie again until dusk. Cap carried her in and unceremoniously dumped her on the bed. He sported a split lip that was fresh since he’d brought lunch. Who had he fought? Kat watched for any sign of nervousness, a betrayal that things weren’t as they had been. Cap gave no clues. Once again, he left without so much as acknowledging Kat’s presence.

  Still wondering, Kat curled up in the corner, lifting Lizzie’s head into her lap. She smoothed back her wild hair and wondered if the golden glints would catch the moonlight and betray her. The dirt on her cheeks was thick enough to hide her fair skin.

  Could Lizzie make it over the wall with her injured foot?

  When Cap returned with another sandwich a few minutes later, Kat stopped him and requested fresh bandages.

  The guard gave one short nod. “I’ll see what I can do, ma’am.”

  Ma’am? A cowboy-type then. But he didn’t look like a gangly cowboy. His sturdy body was thick with well-toned muscles. At least he’d noticed her this time.

  He was back almost immediately, with a box of gauze and a tube of antibiotic ointment. Kat reached for the wound care articles but Cap didn’t give them to her. “I’m to change the dressing. I’ve had training.”

  “I’m a doctor,” Kat protested, but she didn’t interfere. He unrolled the layers of dirty gauze swathing Lizzie’s foot, finally revealing toes stained orange and thick black stitches between Lizzie’s second and fourth toes. Lizzie hadn’t moved, even when Kat’s arms tightened around her convulsively. The same horror she’d felt in Detective Reicher’s stifling little interview room swept over her again and she shut her eyes. Then she’d had Max’s arms around her tight. Now. . .now she clung to his daughter and cried, silent sobs that wouldn’t be controlled.

  “Doesn’t look infected.” Cap’s quiet comment sent her eyes flying back open.

  His gun! Could she get his gun?

  The rifle was slung to his back, its strap over his far shoulder. A snap sealed off the holster he wore at his waist. It seemed they all had two guns. She watched him apply a thick layer of antibiotic gel to the stitches. He seemed absorbed in his work, but absorbed enough not to notice if she got off the bed? Moved around behind him?

  Her gaze lit on a raised, sore-looking contusion behind his left ear. She could see her gun slicing through the air, connecting with solid skull. She almost smiled. “Lizzie said they call you Cap.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He opened the box of gauze.

  “How’d you split your lip, Cap?”

  For the very first time, he looked her in the eyes. She caught one glimpse of intense determination and nothing else. “My busted lip was my reward, ma’am.”

  “Reward?”

  “For allowing you to take me down last night. Ma’am.” His second glance was delivered with the title. Both were salted with disdain. For himself or for her? She couldn’t tell.

  Kat felt a flicker of remorse. He was young. No doubt Vic paid the men well. She still wanted his gun. Kat eased Lizzie’s head to the bed as Cap applied two gauze pads over the gaping hole where her daughter’s toe had been. She inched her own foot over the side of the bed.

  “I should tell you, Ma’am.” Cap’s voice was calm, abnormally conversational. “Should you want to try anything similar while I’m dressing the little girl’s wound here, my o
rders are to kill.” He gave a small smile, sounding for all the world like the cute college kid who lived next door and changed her oil for her. “I’m not to touch you though, ma’am. Mr. Fordon,” another smile, this one clearly forced. “He gave strict orders about you. I’d rather not hurt either of you, ma’am.” He started to wrap Lizzie’s foot. Kat rested one hand protectively on her daughter’s cheek and tried not to shudder.

  Why wrap her foot and try to stave off infection if he planned to kill her? Why feed her? What did Vic want?