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He sees me and waves. “Hi, Mommy.”
It rolls over me like a hurricane—how helpless I am to help him, strapped to this chair. If I told Bax to run, he’d never make it far. If I told him to hide, his giggling would give him away. I can’t do anything to protect him because I amtied to a chair.
I suck down my tears. Push a smile up my cheeks so as not to frighten him. “Hey, big guy. How’re you doing?”
“Good.” He bounces his shoulders. “I had an accident, though.”
“That’s okay, baby. It hap—”
“Jade.”
He’s here now, coming in long, angry strides out of the bathroom. He pulls the gun from his cargo paints and aims at my head, not stopping until the metal makes contact with my forehead. I squeal and rear back until my head is flush against the wall.
“Did she come through here? Because if she did and you lie about it, you and I are going to have a big problem.”
“I already told you, I don’t know. I don’t know where Beatrix is.”
I say it with conviction because it is not a lie. Also, if he shoots me now, Bax will see. He will watch his mother be murdered. Pretty much number one on the list of how to mess up a six-year-old for life.
“Beatrix didn’t come through here, I swear.”
I say the words while in my head, I’m listening for the beeping of the alarm pad. If she’d left, out the window or one of the doors, the alarm would be wailing. There’s nothing but silence from downstairs. Wherever she is, Beatrix is still inside.
The man stares at me through slitted eyes, his mouth going thin with realization. He’s done the same math. He knows Beatrix is still in the house, too.
“Where, Jade?”
“I don’t know. You were supposed to be watching her.”
“I was dealing with your son’s shit.”
At the last word, Baxter giggles, a high and teetering delight. For him there’s nothing merrier than when his father has to drop a dollar in the curse jar, because it’s money that belongs to the kids, split evenly down the middle. Every couple of months, we empty the jar at the bookstore—and they come home with armloads of books. A cook line is an animated place, where tempers flare hotter than the grill flames. Cam’s language has always been colorful.
I can’t help but feel some sort of grim satisfaction. Dealing with someone else’s shit is never fun, even worse when it comes from a child who is not your own. I know it’s a tiny win, but I’m taking it.
He jabs the gun hard into my forehead, metal on bone. “Where is she? Hiding in a closet? Under a bed? Did she go downstairs? She must have, because if she’d come the other way, I would have seen her.”
I don’t dare move. I barely breathe. And I sure as hell don’t answer. No way I’m giving him any indication of where Beatrix might be. With any luck, she’ll stay there until Cam comes home and this is all over.
Suddenly, the pressure is gone. He takes a couple of steps backward, parking his feet at the edge of the carpet. “You know what I think? I think you know exactly where she is. And I think you’re going to tell me.”
He drops the gun into his pocket, exchanging it for a pocketknife he fishes out of another. No, not a pocketknife, a switchblade, the kind killers use. He presses the button with a thumb, and the blade, long and serrated and curved like a deadly claw, shoots out with a sharp click.
A gunanda knife.
I stare at the razor-edged tip. “I... I already told you, I don’t know where she went.”
He stalks closer, and I push myself backward, even though there’s nowhere for me to go. I’m already deep in the seat’s stuffing. The chair squeaks but doesn’t budge.
“You don’t know this, but a little while ago, your kids and I had a little talk, didn’t we, Bax?”
From the doorway, Baxter gives a solemn nod.
“I told them what would happen if one of them opened a door or a window and tripped the alarm.” He glances behind him, to Baxter sucking his thumb. “Want to tell her what I said, buddy?”
Bax’s answer comes from behind a fist. “Nothing good.”
“Exactly. Nothing good will happen. Only bad. So I’m asking you again, Jade, where is Beatrix? And please note that this is a question, but it’s also a warning. I want you to think long and hard before you answer, because if I find out later you’re lying, I’ll take out Beatrix first, and then Baxter. And I will make you watch.”