His phone rang, and his gut did a slow roll at the number on the screen. “Just the call I was waiting for.”
“The first half of the money is in your bank account. We want to be on our way home by this time tomorrow. We will meet you at seven tonight.”
“Excellent! However, I already have a commitment for tonight. Make it eight tomorrow.”
A long pause followed on the other end of the call. “I have warned you not to play games. If you have any thought of double-crossing us, put it out of your mind or your wife will be looking for another husband.”
A shudder made its way down his back. These guys wouldn’t mess around, but he couldn’t do it tonight. “I intend to deliver the plans and deed as promised, but it will need to be at eight tomorrow. You’ll still be on your way home in time.”
“Very well. But if you’re late, you won’t like the consequences.”
“I won’t be late.” He ended the call and climbed into his vehicle.
If he couldn’t get Shauna to cough up the key, what was he going to do? But if he had the kid, he held all the cards. She’d do anything to protect Alex. He liked kids—he really did—but he had no choice.
Setting his jaw, he drove to Marilyn’s house and parked in the trees where he’d hidden his vehicle last time. Through the foliage, he looked in the backyard but didn’t see Alex. Maybe he was in the tree house. Careful to stay in the shade of the trees, he skirted the yard and softly called Alex’s name.
No response. He moved closer to the house and tried to peek in the windows. He caught a glimpse of Alex sitting at the bar with Marilyn doing something in the kitchen. Great. Now what? He could wait and maybe the kid would come out to play, or he could take both of them. While he really didn’t want to deal with two hostages, having Marilyn along might work in his favor. She could help keep Alex calm. If he had to dispose of Alex, he might be able to make it look like a murder/suicide by a grieving mother. It was well-known in town that Marilyn hadn’t dealt very well with the loss of her only child.
Marilyn had a cabin up in the forest she rarely used. He’d been by there last week and had stopped to look around. The place was overgrown with weeds, and the lock on the door was rusted shut. He didn’t think anyone had used it in at least a decade, maybe two. It would be a perfect place to stage the disposal. He couldn’t bring himself to call it murder when he had no choice.
This was all Shauna’s fault. If she hadn’t poked her nose in, the Chinese guys would have their plans, and he’d be sitting on a beach with his lady, enjoying life.
He heaved a sigh and went back to his vehicle to put on his Spider-Man costume. No sense in revealing his identity until he had them safely locked up. He pulled on the face mask and took a pistol and rope from the glove box before heading to the backyard again.
When he reached the tree line, he saw Alex outside on the porch. Perfect.
The boy looked up as he approached and scrambled to his feet. “Spider-Man! I’m sorry, but I couldn’t find the key. I don’t know where it is. Zach saw me looking and made me go back to bed.”
He kept the gun and the rope behind his back. “It’s okay. I have another plan, but we’ll have to take your grandma with us. She won’t understand at first and will probably be upset, but I don’t want you to try to help her, okay? It would be dangerous for her. We have to take her to a safe place. The Joker is coming here any minute, and we have to get her away.”
Alex’s brow furrowed. “Why would the Joker come here? Grammy just stays home and gardens. She has chickens and things. She doesn’t even go to town very much.”
“Who knows why a super villain does what he does. All I know is that we have to take your grandma and get to safety. Can you call her out here?”
“I guess so.” Alex went to the back door and opened it. “Grammy, Spider-Man is here to see you.”
Marilyn’s voice was too far away to make out every word, but she said something about silliness. He grinned and curled his finger around the trigger of his gun. She wouldn’t think it was so funny when this was all over.
Marilyn appeared in the doorway. She wiped her hands on the apron she wore over her gray slacks and blue sweater. “What on earth are you yammering about, Alex? Is this some kind of game?” Her eyes widened when she spotted him, and her hand fluttered to her mouth. “Who are you?”
Alex rushed to her side and took her hand. “This is Spider-Man, Grammy. We have to get you away to somewhere safe. The Joker is on his way to snatch you.”
“Spider-Man isn’t real, Alex.” Her voice went hard, and her brown eyes narrowed. “This isn’t funny. Quit confusing the boy, and take off your mask.”
He pulled his hands from behind his back and gestured with the pistol. “I’m afraid I’ll have to tie you up. Turn around. And don’t try anything funny unless you want to risk the kid.”
The color drained from her face. “Don’t hurt him. I’ll go with you. Just leave him here.”
“Turn around.”
She swallowed, and her Adam’s apple bobbed. “Just don’t hurt him.” She turned her back to him.
He grabbed her left arm and pulled it behind her, then wrapped rope around her wrist before yanking her other arm back. “My truck’s this way. Come along, Alex.”
He’d get them stashed, then call Shauna. It was all going to work out.
The cabin looked deserted, but Shauna knew she’d find her dad passed out in his ratty recliner. She pushed open the unlocked door. “Pop?”
The stench of rotten meat hung in the air, and she grimaced, then pointed to the hallway. “His arsenal is in the spare room. It’s usually locked, but the key is on top of the gun cabinet.”
Zach nodded and rushed down the hall while she continued on to the living room. The slight snore and the gentle movement of her dad’s chest told her she was right. He was fully drunk. She went to the kitchen and made a pot of strong coffee. He had to be coherent enough to talk. They could take his truck and drive to the helicopter, but she needed answers from her dad. She should dump the remains of rotting steak outside, but there was no time for that.
Zach came back down the hall with a rifle and a Glock. He loaded both weapons, then slung the rifle over his shoulder. “I’m going to keep a lookout for the shooter. He might have followed us.”
It was only by the grace of God they hadn’t been injured or killed. The shooter had meant business, and she shuddered at the thought he might be out there stalking them.
The coffee began to perk and mask the putrid smell of the house. She found bread and cut off a small moldy corner, then made a turkey sandwich for her dad. By the time she was done with that, the coffee was ready, so she poured a cup, added a cube of ice to it so he could drink it down, then carried both to the recliner.
“Pop.” She shook his stockinged foot. “Wake up.”
He jerked with one eye at half-mast. “Wha-up?” The eye closed again.
She shook him again and spoke louder. “Pop, you have to wake up. I need you. Someone wants to kill me.”
He blinked and opened both red eyes. His bleary gaze couldn’t seem to land on her and stay. “Tha’ you, Shauna?”
“Yes, Pop. Here, have some coffee.” She lifted the cup to his lips and helped him take several swallows. “Have some more.”
He obediently drank down more of it, and keeping an eye on Zach stalking from the front to the back windows, she broke off pieces of the sandwich and fed it to him.
Fifteen minutes later he had downed all the coffee and most of the sandwich. His eyes were a little more focused, and though he still slurred his words, she thought he might be sober enough to answer her questions.
She carried the plate and cup back to the kitchen and poured more coffee for him, then dragged a kitchen chair in to sit beside him. The sofa was too far for him to focus.
She gave him the cup, and he managed to hold it with only a little tremble in his hand. She sat beside him. “Dad, do you know who owns that metal building about two miles east of here? The one with no windows and two locks on the door?”
Something shifted in his eyes. He looked away and took a sip of his coffee. “Wha’s this all about, Shauna?” He put down the cup on the table beside his chair and leaned back with his eyes closed. “Don’t be nagging me, girl. Let a man get some rest.”
Was he deliberately slurring his words more than he had a minute ago? “Pop, open your eyes and look at me.”
He blinked at her sharp tone, then opened his eyes. She leaned forward. “Someone shot at us just now.” She pointed to Zach. “He’s standing guard because we think that person might have followed us here.”
Her father reared up and started to stand, then fell back into the chair. “Get me my gun! I’ll teach him not to come onto my property.”
“Teach whom? Do you know who wants me dead? Listen, a lot is going on.” She launched into a condensed timeline of the murders and how the killer seemed to be stalking her. “Your grandson is in danger too. We both are. Zach is doing his best to protect us, but it’s hard when we don’t know where to look to figure this out. Jack was killed too, and he left a video telling us to check out Jupiter. We think he might have meant the Jupiter Quadrangle, so we brought my chopper and started searching.”
He was gazing somewhere past her shoulder as though he didn’t know she was in the room. “You found the doomsday machine, didn’t you?”
She considered him carefully. “Doomsday machine?” Was he hallucinating? Did he understand a single word she’d just said? She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Once upon a time he’d been one of the finest engineering minds in the country. It was sad what alcohol had done to him. Maybe they should just take his old truck and leave before that guy opened fire again.
“Killed your mama. Wanted nothing to do with it then,” he mumbled.
“What killed Mom? What are you talking about?” She took the coffee mug and held it to his lips. “Let’s get more caffeine in you.”
He knocked it away, and the cup clattered to the scarred wooden floor, spilling its contents. “I told him I wouldn’t help him, but he kept pestering me and pestering me. It was my fault everyone died, and I couldn’t fix it.” He bolted to his feet and stumbled past her to the hall and into the bathroom.
She heard him retching and sighed. “He’s not making any sense,” she told Zach.
The silhouette of his expression was grim as he studied the front yard through the window. “We need to talk to him when he’s sober. In the meantime, I think we need to get back to the helicopter and hightail it out of the forest. We can bring the sheriff back to check out the building.”
“If it even has anything to do with the shooter. We don’t know for sure.”
“We weren’t far from there when he opened fire. I think he knew we found the place and was trying to make sure we never told anyone.”
She nodded. “I think you’re right. I’ll grab Pop’s keys, and we can take his truck. Do you think it’s safe to leave him here alone?”
Zach shook his head. “We’d better take him with us. We can sober him up and try to squeeze some sense out of him by the time we reach the chopper.”
Seeing him standing there so strong and focused made a warm sensation curl in her belly and float up to her chest. She could count on Zach, and she loved that about him.