Page 50 of Heart Me Up
I’d suspected as much. I sighed and closed my eyes to wait her out.
“There. All done.” She took the plastic bag and put the tube of glue and her latex gloves into it.
I leaned over to admire her handiwork in the side mirror. “Nice job,” I admitted. I wasn’t wild about the rhinestones, but I could picture lying on my bed wearing nothing but the collar. Craig would be a fan, I was sure.
“Look this way,” Amy said. I turned in time to hear her phone click.
“Damn it, Amy! I said no pictures!”
She practically skipped around to the driver’s side of the car, cackling all the way.
“Fuck.” I folded into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut while Amy started the car. “You’d better not—"
My phone rang. Carlos. I gave up on yelling at Amy. It’s not like it was going to affect the outcome anyway. “Hey,” I answered, putting him on speaker.
“Foster.” Carlos’ tone was urgent. “Your boyfriend, Craig. His last name is Thomas, right? Does he live on Pine Meadow?”
I exchanged alarmed glances with Amy. “That’s right. What’s wrong?” Amy put the car in gear and began to back out of the parking spot.
“Fuck. Some guy just called 911 and reported a hostage situation at Craig’s house.”
Chapter24
Craig
I hadto greet a couple of clients—and their dogs—so I was delayed leaving the pet resort. I held my breath when I turned onto my street, hoping I’d beat Silvia and Corrie to the house. I relaxed when the only other car visible was a tan Toyota sedan parked a few doors down and across the street.
That was a weird coincidence, I mused as I pulled into my driveway and parked under the carport. The same kind of car I’d seen on Foster’s street, parked in almost exactly the same spot relative to my house that the other car had been in relative to Foster’s house. I didn’t see anyone standing next to this car though. While I exited my SUV I entertained myself by imagining an alternate version of Stephen King’sChristine, rewritten to star a generic family sedan.
My thoughts were redirected back to the reason I’d come home when a small black SUV stopped in front of my house. I walked over to my front porch to wait for Silvia and Corrie.
Silvia hopped out of the driver’s side door and hustled around to the passenger side like she thought she was going to have to pull Corrie bodily from the car. Corrie got out on her own, though with a lot less enthusiasm and energy than her grandmother.
I greeted them as they drew closer. Corrie’s face was pinched. She didn’t have any makeup on, and her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail. She said, “Hi,” in a low voice as Silvia gave me a big hug.
“Thank you, Craig. We appreciate you meeting with us.”
“Of course. Come on in.” I unlocked the front door and waved them in ahead of me. Silvia led the way with Corrie right on her heels, probably trying to keep as much distance as possible between herself and me.
Which was the only reason I didn’t crash into Corrie’s back when she and Silvia stopped short only a couple of steps into the house. Their gasps and stiffening bodies had me looking over their shoulders into the living room.
I saw the gun first. I’d never had a gun pointed at me before. My entire body froze in fear.
“Close the door,” the guy with the gun said. I startled, my breath coming faster. In front of me, Silvia hugged Corrie to her side. I finally registered the red ballcap on the gunman. He was the same guy I’d seen on Foster’s street the other day. And Malcolm was sitting on one of my kitchen chairs a couple of feet away from him, nose bloody and his hands clasped on top of his head.
I hurried to shut the door behind me, then I moved so I could put myself between Ballcap Guy and Silvia and Corrie.
“Stay where you are,” he ordered. The other day outside Foster’s house I’d only registered his hat and his sunglasses, but even now, when I could see him clearly, he was completely unmemorable. Light brown hair peeked out from under the cap. He was about my height with brown eyes, but otherwise the only thing interesting about his face was the cold expression on it.
I put my hands up. “Whatever you want, these ladies don’t have it. Let them go.” Malcolm’s expression was bleak.
Ballcap Guy laughed. “Not happening. Where are my manners? Please come in, ladies. And gentleman.” He jerked his chin at me. “Have a seat.” He waved the gun at the couch and chairs in the living room. “Oh, and please turn your phones off and put them on the coffee table where I can see them. And, ladies, put your purses down too.”
Shit.I hadn’t had a chance to even think about my phone, but it was too late now. I glanced behind me toward the front door. The blinds were closed over all the windows across the front of the house. In the breakfast room behind Ballcap Guy, the windows and sliding glass door that opened onto the backyard weren’t covered, but the privacy fence prevented any of the neighbors from seeing inside.
Silvia and Corrie’s hands were shaking as they put their phones and purses on the table. I felt horrible for them. I wished I’d asked them to meet me at the pet resort.
I moved toward the coffee table and patted my pockets as if I didn’t remember which one I’d put my phone in. At work I tended to accumulate small items throughout the day, but right now other than my phone all I had were my wallet, my keys and two retractable ballpoint pens.
