Amy, equally bent over with hands on knees, stood up and yelled: “KELLY FUCKING BLAINE DID THIS!”
Lawler and Dixon exchanged a look. Ohhh shit, that look said.
Chapter 56
Irene Flannigan’s doorbell rang.
The three of them close together in the den, waiting with excruciating patience for Amy Lambert’s captor to phone back with further instructions (cherry on top a dead man decomposing upstairs), Irene, Carrie, and Caleb twitched and sat up like dogs’ ears when the door’s bell chimed.
“You think that’s the police?” Caleb asked.
“They told us we weren’t allowed to call the police, didn’t they?” Carrie said to Irene.
Irene didn’t answer, just said: “You two stay put, got it? Stay right here.”
Both kids nodded.
Irene snatched a butcher knife from the kitchen and went to the front door. Unlocked the bolt, left the chain on, and opened the door a few inches, as far as the chain would allow, the screen door behind it as mangled as ever.
In the glow of the porch light, a small young lady with long dark hair and dark eyes greeted Irene with a concerned smile. “Irene Flannigan?”
After what they’d just endured, courtesy was something Irene was fresh out of. “And just who the hell might you be then?”
The young lady spoke quickly and with what appeared to be great anxiety. “I was with Amy Lambert this evening. We planned an escape together. She told me that if I managed to get away and she didn’t, would I please come to this address and take you and her kids to someone named Domino Taylor and tell him everything. She said he would know what to do.”
“She mentioned Domino, did she?” Irene asked. Mentioning Domino was something, but Irene’s tone was not without skepticism.
“That’s right,” the young lady said.
“I see,” Irene said. “And the password Amy gave you would be?”
The young lady did not respond straight away, only stared at Irene for a moment as if she misunderstood the question.
Irene tightened her grip on the knife at her side. Readied herself to slam the door shut and bolt it in an instant. “You’ve got three seconds to—”
“Unicorn,” the young lady said.
Irene exhaled, slid the chain, and opened the door.
The young woman smiled and stepped inside.
Chapter 57
Irene Flannigan’s landline rang. Kelly Blaine answered it.
“Flannigan residence,” Kelly said.
“It’s me,” Amy Lambert replied.
Kelly left the den and went to the kitchen. She pulled back the curtain on the kitchen window an inch and peeked outside. Flashing red and blue everywhere. “Figured you’d be calling,” she said.
“I’m surprised you actually went to Irene’s,” Amy said. “You had to know I’d realize that’s where you were heading.”
“I did, yes.”
“Are my kids okay?”
“They are, yes.”
“Irene?”
“Yup.”
“So what’s your plan then?” Amy asked. “The game’s over.”
“Oh no, it’s not. Not yet.”
“You can’t be a ghost on this one, Kelly. Everyone sees you now.”
“I know that.”
“So what is it then? You gonna treat this like a bad movie? Hold Irene and my kids hostage and demand the police call you a chopper?”
Kelly laughed. “No. I wanna make a trade.”
“What kind of a trade?”
“Irene and your kids for you.”
A pause.
“Should I repeat myself?” Kelly said.
“No—I heard you.”
“Strange. I wouldn’t think you’d hesitate over such a request.”
“I need to know they’re alive first.”
Kelly went back into the den. Irene and the kids sat huddled together on the floor. Kelly raised her gun on them. Carrie whimpered and tucked her head into Irene’s side. Irene squeezed her tight. And though Caleb did not make a sound when the gun was raised—did not even flinch—Irene pulled him in close and squeezed him just as she’d done his sister.
“Say hello,” Kelly said, holding the phone out to them.
No one said anything.
Kelly cocked the hammer on her pistol. “Say hello.”
“Hello!” Irene yelled.
Kelly moved the phone closer to Carrie. “Now you,” she said. “How about an ‘I love you, Mommy’?”
Carrie hesitated.
Kelly aimed the gun right at Carrie’s head. “Or how about a ‘Goodbye, Mommy’?”
Carrie screamed.
Kelly laughed. “Ooh, that’ll work.” She brought the phone back to her ear. “Some lungs on your daughter.”
Amy went to say something, but Kelly took the phone away again. Held it before Caleb.
“Your turn, little fella,” she said.
“I’m here, Mom,” Caleb said.
Kelly nodded and lowered the phone. “Good boy.”
“Fuck you,” Caleb said.
Kelly laughed. Irene pulled Caleb in tight and hushed him.
“I like your son,” Kelly said once she was back on the phone. “Good potential. I’d love to keep him for a while.”
Amy ignored Kelly’s comment. “Now what?” was all she said.
“Well, do you believe they’re all alive?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then let’s make a swap, lollipop.”
Chapter 58
Irene and Caleb were ushered out first. Caleb spotted his mother among the sea of uniforms and flashing lights and sprinted into her arms. Amy showered him with love then held him back at arm’s length and checked him up and down. “Are you all right?” she asked.
Caleb nodded and dove into her again. Amy started to cry.
Irene came over, and Amy pulled her in with them. They all cried together.
“Mrs. Lambert?” an officer said behind them. Still in the embrace, Amy turned her head. The officer was holding out a cell phone. “It’s her,” the officer said.
Amy pulled away from Caleb and Irene and took the phone.
“We’re not done yet,” Kelly said.
“Send out Carrie,” Amy said. “Then I’ll come in. I promise.”
“Gee, lady, you mean it? Honest and for true?”
“Look, Kelly, I—”
“Oh, shut the fuck up. You want your daughter, then you better get your ass in here first. You’ve got one minute.”
***
Amy went through the front door. Kelly was in the hallway, Carrie on her knees before her, Kelly’s gun pressed to the back of her head execution style.
“Shut the door and lock it,” Kelly said.
“Carrie, honey, are you okay?”
Carrie started crying. She could only nod.
“Shut the door and lock it,” Kelly said again.
“Why?” Amy asked. “You’re only going to have to unlock it again when you let Carrie go.”
“I’m not letting Carrie go,” Kelly said.
“What?”
“I’m just not comfortable letting her go. You’re too crafty, Amy. Too tough. You and me alone? I feel like you’d try to pull something. I’m not the biggest girl, in case you didn’t notice. Even with a gun, I still wouldn’t feel a hundred percent safe alone with you.”
“This is fucking bullshit.”
“You always talk like that in front of your daughter?”
“We had a deal,” Amy said. “Honor it and let my daughter go.”
Kelly pretended to consider. Then: “Nope.”
“If you let my daughter go, I will not try anything. I will do exactly as you say. I swear.”
“See? There you go promising again. Why on earth would you think that holds any value for me?”
Amy said nothing.
“How about this?” Kelly began. “I can’t promise you’re going to walk out of here alive, Amy, but I can promise
you that your daughter will.”
“And why should your promises hold any value for me?” Amy said.
Kelly dug the gun barrel into the back of Carrie’s head. Carrie winced and cried harder. “I’d say under the circumstances, they would be fucking priceless.”
Amy turned and shut the front door. Locked it and turned back toward Kelly and Carrie.
“Good,” Kelly said. She took the gun off Carrie and waved Amy closer with it. “Come closer.”
Amy shuffled forward a few steps.
“Closer.”
Two more steps. She was close enough now to reach out and touch her crying daughter kneeling before her. And she did, taking Carrie’s face in her hand and gently raising it to hers.
She did not say anything to her daughter, only smiled down at her with endless love.
“One more step,” Kelly said.
Amy did.
Kelly took the gun off Carrie and raised it on Amy, the tip of the barrel no more than a few inches from her forehead. It was then that Amy noticed it was not the 9mm pistol Kelly had been carrying at Allan’s house, but a six-shooter.
“Put your hands in your pockets,” Kelly said.
Amy did.
“Good.” Kelly opened the revolver’s cylinder chamber and dumped all six bullets into the palm of her hand. She tossed all but one aside, the bullets clattering then rolling once they hit the wooden floor.
She held the single bullet up for Amy to see, slid it into one of the six empty holes in the cylinder chamber, gave the chamber a solid spin, and then slammed the chamber shut with the heel of her palm, midspin.
“I know I’m going to prison, Amy,” she began. “And I’m sure you know someone like me could never tolerate being caged. So, I don’t plan on leaving here alive. However, I’d like to test something.”
“And that is?”
“Back at the house you said you agreed with me that life was not fair. You said something like there was no balance in the universe, and that one tragedy did not make you exempt from another. Was that the gist of it?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I’d like to test it again. Lord knows you’ve endured tragedy countless times, so one would say further testing was unnecessary, but still, I’d like to try one more time. Let’s see if life will be fair to you just this once.”
“By playing Russian roulette?”
Kelly smiled.
“I thought you said you had no intention of leaving here alive.”
“I don’t. Even if I win, I’ll still pluck one of those bullets up off the floor and put it in my head.”
“If you’re going to kill yourself no matter what, why not just let us go?”
Kelly laughed. “Amy…you know I can’t do that.”
Amy dropped her gaze to Carrie, caressed her face again, and then looked back up at Kelly. “Win or lose, my daughter leaves?”
“Yes.”
Amy nodded. “Let’s play.”
Chapter 59
Kelly held up a coin and looked down at Carrie. “Heads or tails, Carrie?”
Carrie wept silently.
“Hey!” Kelly flicked her on the top of the head. “Heads or tails?”
Carrie tucked her head and whimpered.
Amy saw red. “Don’t hit my fucking kid.”
Kelly smirked and held up an apologetic hand. “Sorry. How about you choose then?”
“Tails.”
Kelly flipped the coin, caught it, then slapped it on the back of the fist holding the gun. “Tails it is,” she said. “Choose.”
“You go first,” Amy said.
Kelly smiled. “Hoping to get lucky right from the start, are we?”
“You and I don’t believe in luck.”
“Touché.”
Kelly cocked the hammer, stuck the gun in her mouth, and pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked empty.
She pulled the gun from her mouth and aimed it between Amy’s eyes. “One in five chance now. You ready?”
Amy just stared at her.
Kelly pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked empty.
Kelly smiled again. “Starting to get interesting.” She cocked the hammer, stuck the gun in her mouth, and pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked empty.
“Uh-ohhh…” Kelly aimed between Amy’s eyes again. “One in three.” She nudged Carrie with her foot. “They teach you about odds in school, Carrie? How risky is a one-in-three shot?”
Carrie looked up at Amy. “Mommy?”
“It’s okay, baby.” Amy’s heartache was crippling. “Mommy wants you to put your head down and cover your ears, okay? Don’t look up, no matter what.”
Carrie stared up at her mother.
“Just do it, honey,” Amy said softly.
Carrie did as she was told.
Kelly steadied the gun, cocked the hammer—and paused. Held the gun between Amy’s eyes for several seconds, milking it. Loving it.
Amy contemplated going for the gun. But if she missed…
“Just fucking do it,” Amy said through gritted teeth.
Kelly pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked empty.
Amy exhaled, shoulders dropping. Her legs felt weak. Her vision swam. But now it was Kelly’s turn—and a one in two, no less. Fifty-fifty.
Except Kelly wasn’t raising the gun on herself as swiftly as she had on previous turns. Instead, her gun arm dangled at her side as she considered Amy.
Oh, Christ, she’s not going to take the chance.
She’s going to shoot me.
All she has to do is pull the trigger twice and fast and I’m dead.
I have to go for the gun.
(And suppose you fuck up and she decides to shoot Carrie instead?)
I…oh God…
“Fifty-fifty odds,” Kelly said as she started to raise the gun.
A sickening bit of irony hit Amy just before Kelly pulled the trigger and ended it: Amy had expected Kelly to play fair.
Chapter 60
Kelly Blaine cocked the hammer, stuck the gun in her mouth, and blew her head off.
Chapter 61
One month later
Amy replaced the old flowers in front of Patrick’s grave with some new ones. She then sat, as she always did, over a spot on the cemetery grass she liked to think was his lap.
“Me again,” she said. “They finally caught that girl I was telling you about before. Jennifer? The junkie who was helping Kelly Blaine? They finally got her, so I guess that’s something. Still won’t bring Jon Rogers’ wife back, but at least they got her.”
She paused there for a moment. Dropped her head.
“Sometimes I wish it was like that for us. That it was me who died and not you. I’m strong for the kids, but sometimes my head feels like it’s going to explode. You were always so much better when it came to dealing with drama.”
She knuckled away a tear and looked up at a cloud. She wondered if somewhere, somehow, Patrick could see the same cloud.
“Speaking of drama, Carrie’s still sleeping with me, and I have the gall to give her shit about it sometimes. Here I am, thinking I’m about to lose it, and I have the absolute gall to give our eleven-year-old daughter shit for being scared and wanting to feel safe by sleeping with her mother at night.”
She shook her head at herself and fingered the cigarette burn on her cheek that was nearly healed but would leave a scar.
“Caleb? He’s still a rock, you know? He’s still like he was right after we first encountered Arty and Jim at Crescent Lake. Insisting on sleeping by himself. Puttering around without talking. No tacks in my slipper this time, thank God, but it’s got me worried. I’m beginning to think Domino’s death affected him more than we initially thought. He was like a statue at the funeral. No tears, no nothing. And never mind the fact that he killed a man. He never minds the fact that he killed a man. When the therapist asks him about it—when I ask him about it—he just shrugs
as if it was a job he had to do, no big deal. It scares me, honey.”
She looked up at the sky again. “His school called me in again. His third fight this month. Remember that little boy who used to cry when Carrie would squash a bug in front of him?” She dropped her head back down to Patrick’s tombstone. “I worry about our baby boy, honey. Carrie is so easy; she displays her emotions on a billboard. But Caleb…” She looked away. Fixated on another grave and its engravings for a spell in a bid to tamp down her anxiety.
“You know I tell Caleb that you and Domino are together now?” she eventually said. “That the two of you are watching over us? He smiles, but I think he’s just placating me. You believe that? A nine-year-old boy placating his mother?” She chuckled without humor. “Still, I like to believe it. I like to think you and Domino are living it up somewhere, drinking scotch and shooting the shit and watching over us like guardian angels. It helps me sleep better at night.”
Amy stood and brushed her butt and legs off.
“I went through hell again, baby. And I survived again. I’d like to think this was the last of it, but I think you and I know better by now. Christ, I’ll probably go home to find aliens on my doorstep. I guess the Lamberts are just lucky that way.” She chuckled dryly again, looked up at the sky, and closed her eyes.
She brought forth an image of Patrick and her in bed on a Sunday morning, sleeping late and cuddling, the kids barging in and piling into bed with them, bouncing and laughing, and Amy felt a transitory moment of peace. She savored it awhile.
Finished, Amy touched two fingers to her lips and pressed them to Patrick’s gravestone. “You know,” she began, “I don’t believe the world is fair, and I don’t believe the universe has balance…” She flashed a shrewd little smile toward Patrick’s grave. “But I like to think that somehow you and Domino made sure that little bitch ate that bullet.”
She chuckled, anything but dryly this time, and pressed two kissed fingers to Patrick’s grave again. “See you soon, baby.”
Chapter 62
Bad Games: Malevolent Page 19
