Page 9

CHAPTER 9

Mount Airy, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 12:30 p.m.

Tino slid into the front passenger seat of Cliff Gargano’s minivan, feeling too guilty for words. “I shouldn’t have texted you. This could get us both arrested. Or even killed.”

The uniformed officer who Vito had tasked with getting Tino home had been quiet and efficient—and full of rightful distrust. He’d eyed Tino as he’d driven him to Mount Airy, all while Tino had been texting Cliff, telling him what needed to be done. The cop was still waiting outside Tino’s house on the curb, in case Tino got the bright idea of driving himself to where Hale held Charlotte and Kayla.

Which was why Tino had instructed Cliff to meet him on the street a block away. Tino had snuck out through his back door and vaulted over the fence to avoid the cop.

Now, looking at the baby’s car seat behind him, Tino was having all the second thoughts. He had no right to put Cliff in danger. The man had a wife and a child.

But Cliff was holding up his phone, showing the map to Kevin Hale’s blue Victorian with the white picket fence. “We’re not getting killed. And my mother always figured we’d get arrested together.”

“Not a joke,” Tino murmured as Cliff pulled away from the curb.

His best friend glanced into his rearview mirror before looking at Tino. “You think that cop waiting in front of your house knows you’re gone?”

“Gino’s home. He’s going to tell them I’m upstairs, that I took a pill to sleep. I should have asked him to drive me. I got no business putting you in harm’s way.”

Cliff snorted. “Like Gino could do anything that could get him arrested. He’s too nice.”

“He really is. I worry that he won’t be able to lie if that cop comes looking for me, but it’s a chance I had to take.”

Cliff sobered. “Tino, I read about the murders in Rittenhouse. I know about Charlie’s aunt. My mom told me. I know what this guy is capable of doing. I also know that you’ve had my back since we were kids. I’m returning the favor.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. I’m going to anyway.” Cliff set his phone into the holder attached to his dash. The map said they were six minutes out.

Vito would be organizing his troops to surround Hale’s house and...negotiate.

Hale wouldn’t negotiate. Tino knew that like he knew his own name. He also knew that the longer Hale held Charlotte and Kayla captive, the more likely it was that the bastard would hurt them. Both had been through too much. Poor Kayla had seen the man who’d shot her father. She had to be so terrified right now.

And Charlotte... God, Charlie. Just hold on.

“So,” Cliff said easily. “You and Charlie?”

Tino nodded, his heart racing as he contemplated what he was about to do. “Yeah. We’re giving it our best shot.”

“Good. It’s about time. Tell me about the guy who has her.”

So Tino did, not caring when his voice broke or when tears leaked down his cheeks. This was Cliff he was talking to. His friend had seen him cry before. Not many times, but definitely when Charlotte had left twenty-four years ago.

“I remember him,” Cliff said. “Vaguely, anyway. Weird kid. Watched Charlie all the time back then.”

Tino stared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Sonya said that Charlie wasn’t interested in him, and that the guy had a crush, that was all. Didn’t seem worth getting you upset over it. You would have punched the kid’s lights out and gotten yourself expelled.”

Tino hated to admit that Cliff was right. “Probably,” he said grudgingly.

“Definitely. We were all a little hormonally crazed back then. Going all caveman over our girls. I would have punched him if he’d looked at Sonya that way. Sonya knows where I am, by the way. I needed to give her the chance to speak, to tell me not to help you. But she told me to go, and that I’d better not get hurt.” He gave Tino a wry smile. “I’m to stay with the minivan and be your getaway driver. I’m not to go into the house.”

Other people might have been surprised at Sonya’s approval, but Tino had known the woman for more than a quarter of a century, so he wasn’t surprised at all. “That’s fine. I’ll go in through the back window into the basement. From the photos on Zillow, it’s just big enough for me to get through.”

“I brought my tools in case you need them. They’re in the back. What are you going to do once you’re inside?”

“Disable him.”

Cliff lifted his brows. “And how will you do that?”

“I have my gun. I won’t use it unless I absolutely have to,” he added when Cliff winced.

“You don’t have a license to carry that thing, dude.”

“I do. I have a concealed carry permit. Because of my job.”

Cliff’s eyes widened. “You’ve had threats?”

“Yeah, from family members of the assholes who’ve been arrested based on my sketches.” And there had been many of them. Vito had been right. Tino’s work told the cops who to look for. I’ve done something good with my life.

And if Kevin Hale’s was the last face he ever sketched, Tino would be okay with that, as long as he got Charlotte out safely first. It was possible that Hale would kill him. The man had known where Charlotte was, had sent a taxi to Tino’s house to fetch her. Hale had to be angry that he and Charlotte were back together.

But again, as long as Charlotte was safe, Tino was okay with whatever happened to him.

* * *

Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 12:30 p.m.

Charlotte’s gaze had swept through the neighborhood as they’d driven toward the house, trying to look simply curious and not desperate to find an escape route. But she saw no one out in their yards. And she didn’t see any sign of Philly PD.

Kevin had driven around town for an hour, ditching the truck for an SUV before finally heading to the house. He’d well and truly lost Lieutenant Lawrence’s cops.

I’m on my own.

“What do you think?” he asked as he pulled into a driveway. “Welcome home.”

Charlotte stared up at the house in shock.

It’s our house.

The house Tino had dreamed about all those years ago. It was blue with gingerbread trim and a wraparound front porch. It had a tin roof and the cherry tree in the front yard was in full, gorgeous bloom.

It was...surreal.

“It’s...” She turned her stare onto Kevin as he pulled straight into an attached garage, lowering the door behind them with a touch to the opener attached to the visor of the Ford Explorer. “How did you choose this house?” she finally asked.

He frowned as he turned off the engine. “You told me that this was your dream. That one day you’d live in a blue Victorian with gingerbread trim, a tin roof, and a wraparound porch. You’d have a porch swing and we’d sit in it for hours, admiring the blossoms on our very own cherry tree.”

Charlotte had absolutely no recollection of that conversation, but she needed to play along. “And you remembered. After all this time.”

“I remember every word you’ve ever said.”

Wow. Okay. She made herself smile even as she racked her brain for any memory of that conversation, but there was none. “You’re so sweet.”

He beamed. “Wait until you see the inside. I had some renovations done. Everything was already pretty new. This isn’t a hundred-year-old house. It was built twenty years ago in the Victorian style. I wanted to find a genuine Victorian, but I think this is better. Fewer things we’ll have to fix. And we’re only the second owners. But the kitchen wasn’t good enough for you, not with you being a chef.”

“Not anymore,” she said, more out of habit. Then cursed herself when he slowly turned to look at her.

“What does that mean?” he asked, his eyes suddenly narrowed and angry.

She decided to be honest. “Just that after my car accident all those years ago, my hip has been less than fully functional. I can’t stay on my feet for the hours required to be a chef in a restaurant kitchen. But I love to cook in my own kitchen.”

I loved cooking for Tino and his brother. And for Kayla.

He relaxed. “Good. I can’t wait for you to cook for me. That will be your primary responsibility.”

“Okay,” she managed. “Good to know. What are my other responsibilities?”

Please don’t say sex. Please.

“Pleasing me,” he said seriously. “In all things,” he added with an underlying note of menace that made Charlotte want to shudder.

She had to hold herself steady when he cupped her face in one big hand. It felt horrible. Wrong. Her stomach roiled.

But she didn’t flinch. Didn’t gag. Instead, she leaned into his palm.

Play the game, Charlotte. Save Kayla.

She held the pose until he pulled his hand away. “Take off the wig. We’re home now.” She obeyed, removing the black wig he’d forced her to put on when they’d changed from the truck to the SUV. “Let’s go inside. I want to see your face when you see what I’ve done for you.”

Kevin gripped her arm just a little too hard as he pulled her out of the vehicle, tugging her toward the door into the house.

“That hurts, Kevin.”

He tightened his grip substantially, making her try to pull away on reflex. “Can’t have you running away.”

She had to breathe through the sharp pain. “I promised I wouldn’t.”

“You also promised you’d write to me from college,” he said bitterly. “I waited every day for a letter and none came.”

“I told you why,” she said patiently. “I was a mess when my parents split up.”

“Did you write to him ?”

Tino. Who probably knew what she’d done by now. “No.”

I wish I had. But I didn’t.

He hauled her to the door, making her walk far faster than she was able.

“Kevin, I can’t walk that fast.”

“Sure, you can. And you will.” He took the stairs quickly, dragging her with him.

She stumbled and fell, unable to hold back a whimper of pain.

He yanked her back to her feet, setting her shoulder on fire. She pulled back, trying to free her arm.

“You are hurting me.”

“Shut up,” he hissed. “Get in the house.” He unlocked the door and, releasing her, shoved her through.

She stumbled again and fell to the floor. It was hardwood and buffed to a slippery shine. She drew a breath, taking a moment to orient herself.

It was a large foyer, the walls painted a dove gray. Somehow that made her feel better, because that was not what Tino had dreamed about. He’d wanted their walls to be robin’s-egg blue because it was such a cheerful color.

And it would match Charlotte’s eyes.

She was contemplating how to stand up when Hale gripped her sides and lifted her like she weighed nothing. She’d have to use her brain to get out of this, because she was no match for the muscle he’d put on in the twenty-four years since high school.

She placed a hand on the wall to steady herself, only to have it knocked away.

“Have some respect,” he snapped. “I painted these walls myself.”

Play the game. “I’m sorry, sir. I need my cane.”

“Oh.” He sounded vaguely apologetic. “Well, come see the rest of the house. I’ll get you a new cane later.”

She glanced at the stairs and tried not to grimace. The banister was beautifully refinished and the stairs polished to a shine, but she wasn’t going to be able to walk up those stairs.

“The kitchen,” she said brightly. “I want to see it.”

He smiled. “I thought you might. I bought groceries last night, so you can cook for us.”

“Of course.” She shuffled into the kitchen, trying not to think about how much her hip hurt. And then all thoughts were wiped away when she saw Kayla sitting in a chair at the table, still bound and gagged. Her eyes were wide and terrified, red from crying. She made an agonized noise that had Charlotte rushing to her side.

She started to take Kayla’s gag away, but Kevin grabbed her arm again.

“Don’t touch her,” he snarled.

“All right.” He stood slightly behind Charlotte, so she risked mouthing to Kayla. “It will be okay.”

Kayla blinked, sending more tears down her cheeks.

“I’m here,” she said to Kevin. “Let her go now. You promised.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t say I’d do it today.”

She wasn’t surprised. “Has she eaten today?”

“I don’t know. I grabbed her from her house.”

Charlotte glanced at him sharply. “There was a police guard at her house.”

“They’re dead,” Kevin said flatly.

Charlotte gasped. “You killed them?”

He shrugged. “They were in my way.” Then he smiled again, a malevolent sight. “Enough of that kind of talk. What do you think of the kitchen?”

Charlotte stared at him. “What?”

His smile dimmed, and she took a wary step back. “I had this kitchen remodeled just for you, Charlie. What do you think of it?”

She looked around wildly, willing her brain to cooperate. But he’d killed two cops. And Mr. Lombardi. And Mrs. Fadil. And he’d nearly killed Kayla’s father and Dottie.

I have to get us out of here.

She forced yet another smile. “It’s a beautiful kitchen.” It really was. It looked as if it had leapt from the pages of a magazine. The appliances were all shiny and new. The cabinets gleamed. But she could see that the window was nailed shut. There was a door on the far wall that probably went to the basement. That was a possible exit, but he’d probably locked it, just as he’d locked the door into the garage. If I can just get his keys ... “This is everything I always wanted. Would you like me to make you a nice lunch? Or maybe a late breakfast? What would you like to eat?”

He sat in one of the kitchen chairs, waving his hand like a sultan. “Surprise me.”

She opened the fridge, blinking in surprise at how well it was stocked. “Give me a minute to see what I can make. Do you have any food allergies?”

“You don’t remember?” Kevin asked.

Charlotte exhaled slowly. “Sir, I don’t remember a lot of things since my attack. I had a head injury.” It was a lie. She hoped he’d believe it. “So if I don’t remember everything, please don’t take it personally.”

“I bet you remember his favorite meal,” Kevin muttered.

French toast. “I don’t,” she lied, opening drawers, familiarizing herself with their contents. Looking for a weapon.

The knife block was conspicuously bare, the empty slots mocking her. There were forks and spoons in the drawers, but not a single knife. Not even a butter knife.

It appeared that Kevin wasn’t taking any chances.

“I’ll need to chop some vegetables,” she said lightly. “But you don’t seem to have invested in a single knife.”

“I’ve set them aside,” he said. “I’m not sure that I trust you yet. I had to force you to come with me.”

She leaned against the counter, giving him her full attention. “You could have simply called me. You didn’t have to threaten me by taking Kayla. She’s innocent in all of this.”

He met her gaze squarely. “I thought you’d reach out to me, especially after your aunt went to the hospital.”

Fury geysered up inside her, and she had to breathe to calm it. “I didn’t realize that was you. I honestly didn’t believe you were capable of hurting so many people.”

He didn’t blink. “I’d do anything for you. I robbed stores for you. Twice. Went to prison for you. Twice. ”

She swallowed hard. “Why?”

“Because I love you.”

She barely managed to control the shudder. “No, I mean why did you rob stores? Is that how you bought this house?”

He laughed. “No, idiot. My father wouldn’t give me any money, but I needed to come to you. To bring you home from college. But I ended up in prison.”

“And the second time?”

“I wanted to get to you in Memphis. I saw your marriage announcement, and I needed to make you leave him.”

“You did that...for me?”

“I would do anything for you.”

“Then let Kayla go. If you do, I’ll stay with you. No arguments.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’ll stay with me regardless. No arguments.”

She willed her hands not to shake. It had been worth a try, she supposed, but she’d known it wouldn’t work. “I know. But if you really want to make me happy, please let her go. You can blindfold her so that she can’t see where we are, but she’s just a child, Kevin. Please, let her go.”

“You’ll be happy, because you’re with me.” His gaze darkened. “Now make me happy by shutting up and cooking me a meal. I’m starving.”

“Yes...sir.” Trying not to cry, she turned to the sink, looking out the window over it. Looking for any sign that help was coming.

But no one was coming.

She truly was on her own.

Then I’ll find another way. I’ll get us both out, me and Kayla. I didn’t survive that insane stalker last year only to die at the hands of another insane stalker.

But even as she thought the words, she knew that getting even one of them out would be a near-impossible challenge. Getting them both out?

Kayla first.

Unless... What if she could drug Kevin? Make him sleep? Then she and Kayla could escape. What in the kitchen could she use?

“Stop staring out the window,” Kevin snapped. “Look at me. Or cook a meal.”

She looked over her shoulder, praying she didn’t appear as terrified as she really was. Because unless Kevin had stocked his shelves with sleeping pills, the best she could do was to make him a cup of warm milk.

That wasn’t going to help her get away.

So now? She’d bide her time. “How about a frittata?” she asked.

Drugged or not, he’d have to sleep sometime. She’d have to wait for nightfall. And then she’d take his keys, unlock the doors, and get the hell out of there.

“With bacon?” Kevin asked.

She feigned indignation. “Of course with bacon. What kind of cook do you think I am?”

“Hopefully a good one,” he said sharply.

She was a good cook. An expert with spices and seasonings. She knew what spices complemented others. Which should be used sparingly, lest they overwhelm the meal.

Or the chef.

Her breath caught. Most hot peppers made her eyes water when she chopped them. And pepper spray was made from peppers, right?

She couldn’t make pepper spray, but she might be able to fudge a suitable substitute.

I can do this. I can get us out of here.

“You won’t be disappointed.” Opening the fridge, she began to remove the ingredients she’d need. Milk, eggs, spinach, red pepper.

She nearly shouted in relief when she saw the bag of jalape?os. She and Kayla might just have a chance. “If I can’t have a knife, you’re going to have to do the chopping. I’m adding spinach and red peppers. Maybe a little jalape?o. Just for flavor.”

And for your eyes, asshole.

He was quiet for a moment. “I’ll give you a knife and supervise you.”

Yes. That was what she’d hoped he’d say.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, then left the kitchen for wherever he’d hidden the knives. At this point, she didn’t care where he hid them. She only needed one.

Quickly, she moved to Kayla’s side and whispered in her ear. “I’ll try to get his keys and then untie you. Be ready to run, even if I don’t follow you. Understand?”

Kayla nodded, her eyes still so scared, it broke Charlotte’s heart.

Charlotte hurried back to the counter and was sorting through the dry spices—cayenne, chili pepper, red pepper flakes, habanero powder, ground black pepper—when Kevin returned with one large kitchen knife and one paring knife. Both looked dull, but she’d used worse.

She’d make do with the knives, especially if she could tease them away from him. Once she hit him in the face with her mix of spices, she could plunge the knife into his gut.

Except in his other hand, he held a handgun. The handgun had a silencer. This would be the weapon he’d used to wound Mr. Lewis. To kill Mr. Lombardi and Mrs. Fadil and maybe the two cops as well.

If she angered him enough, he might use that gun on her or Kayla. Or on both of us.

Don’t think like that. Just bide your time. Make your pepper concoction. Be patient.

He handed her the knife, casually pointing the gun at her chest. “No funny stuff.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she lied, then smiled up at him, hoping she could pull this off. “It’s a beautiful kitchen. It’s going to be a pleasure cooking in it.”

Still holding the gun, his aim still firm, he ran a finger on his free hand down her cheek. “You look good in my kitchen, Charlie.”

She felt like her face would crack from the fake smile. “Thank you. One frittata, coming up.”

* * *

Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 12:40 p.m.

Tino stared up at the blue Victorian as Cliff slowly drove by. “It’s uncanny,” Tino whispered.

“Exactly like you used to dream about,” Cliff agreed. “That’s freaky, man.”

“It is.” Tino’s skin felt unbearably tight. Kevin Hale had been thorough, to say the least.

Cliff reached over and squeezed Tino’s arm. “He went to so much trouble for her, T. Maybe he won’t hurt her.”

But Tino was terrified that that wasn’t the case. “He killed people to get to her, Cliff.”

Cliff sighed. “I know. What’s the plan?”

“Drive around the block and park at the back. I’ll climb the fence and break in through a basement window.”

“And if he has cameras and sees you coming?”

Tino grimaced. “I don’t know. It’s a risk I have to take. Maybe he won’t be paying attention to the cameras.” Because he’s hyperfocused on Charlie. That didn’t make Tino feel any better. “If you need to leave, this is the time.”

“I’m here. I have your back.” Cliff made a face. “From the safety of the family minivan.”

Tino studied the homes as they drove to the street behind Hale’s house. “I gave you shit about buying such a fancy minivan, but right now, I’m glad you did. Your Mercedes fits right in.”

“I’ll remind you of that later,” Cliff said lightly. “Also, we got a great deal and this vehicle holds its resale value.”

“Yeah, yeah. I was wrong and you were right.”

“Ha!” Cliff crowed. “Say that again.” He held out his phone.

Tino laughed, as he suspected Cliff had intended. “Shut up.” He sobered as Cliff stopped on the block behind the blue Victorian. Luckily the fence between Hale and his backyard neighbor was a standard four-footer. Tino could jump over that in his sleep. “If I’m not out in fifteen minutes, call Vito. He’ll yell and scream. Tell him I lied to you about where I was going and why.”

Cliff held his gaze. “I will tell him the truth.”

Tino’s eyes stung. “Thank you.”

“Go on. Get Charlie out of there.”

Tino glanced in the side mirror as he started to open the van’s door, then groaned in frustration. “Fucking hell.”

Cliff looked around. “What?”

“Nick’s here.” The man was jogging up the street towards the minivan. “Lieutenant Nick Lawrence,” Tino explained. “He’s the one Charlie called because she couldn’t reach me or Vito.”

Cliff didn’t have a chance to say anything because the side door was already opening. Nick jumped into the back seat and closed the door.

“Hey, y’all,” he drawled. “Fancy meetin’ you here.”

Tino scowled, his plan crumbling to dust because Nick had probably already called Vito. “Hey, Nick.”

“Tino. Mr. Gargano.” Nick nodded to Cliff. “Rookie move, driving by the house. Should have just come straight back here. My guys made you right away. Took less than a minute to run your plates.”

Cliff looked nervous. “Sorry?”

Nick chuckled. “I’ll bet you are. Tino, boy, what’re you thinkin’?”

“That he has Charlotte,” Tino bit out. “And Vito will do this by the book.”

“That he will,” Nick said, but his tone was kind. “Sometimes the book takes a while.”

“I...” Tino closed his eyes. “He’s killed five people, Nick.”

“I know.”

Tino swallowed hard. “He’s not going to negotiate with Vito.”

“I know,” Nick repeated softly. “What was your plan gonna be?”

Tino twisted in his seat to meet Nick’s eyes. “Sneak in through the basement window in the back and get her out. Her and Kayla.”

Nick looked thoughtful. “He’ll kill you if he sees you in his house.”

“I don’t care.”

“Tino!” Cliff gasped.

Tino glared at him. “What would you do if this was Sonya? The same. I know you’d do the same. But it doesn’t matter now. We’ve been made.”

“Hold on,” Nick said, then checked his phone. “Excellent,” he murmured. He typed something then returned his attention to Tino and Cliff. “You nearly got my detective killed.”

Tino blinked. “How?”

“Because she was fixin’ to knock on Hale’s front door to make sure that it’s him. She had a frozen casserole for his dinner. Brought it from her own personal freezer when I called her to help. A welcome to the neighborhood thing. If he saw your friend’s license plates, he might be able to run them just like I did. I understand you all went to school together. He’d remember Mr. Gargano, here. He might have taken out my detective. Like you said, he’s killed a lot of people, Tino.”

Tino hadn’t considered that and he should have. “Dammit. I’m sorry. But of course it’s him. The house is a match for the one his cellmate described.”

“It is,” Nick agreed. “But the vehicle he drove into the garage was not one of the ones we were expecting. He must have driven around a while to make sure we weren’t following. He switched vehicles again. We had to be sure.”

“But it’s him?”

“It is.”

“He came to the door and your detective didn’t shoot him?” Tino couldn’t control his tone, but Nick didn’t appear upset.

“We didn’t have a good line of sight and my detective’s assignment was purely reconnaissance. Plus, we might have hit Charlotte if he’d dragged her with him and hidden her behind the door.”

Tino jaw was so tight that it hurt. “How long till Vito’s ready to act?”

Nick looked troubled. “At least an hour. Maybe two. He’s waiting on a SWAT team.”

“An hour or two,” Tino breathed, his gut a churning mess. “He could hurt her in an hour or two, Nick.”

“He could,” Nick said steadily.

“And you’re not going in?”

Nick shook his head, regret in his eyes. “Vito is in command of this op. My detectives and I are in a support role. Vito says to wait for the SWAT team, so we wait.”

Tino glanced over the house they were parked in front of, able to see the peak of the blue Victorian’s roof. I’m not going to wait. I’m going in. Even if I have to walk back here after Nick boots us from the neighborhood. “Did you evacuate the neighbors?”

“We did. They were unhappy, to say the least.”

Tino didn’t care how unhappy they were. But at least the neighbors would be safe when he did what he had to do. “Now what?”

“Now I’m going back to my detectives and we will hold the fort until the SWAT team arrives and the snipers get into position. You two are gonna drive away.” He opened the van’s side door and hopped out. “Always a pleasure, Tino. Good to meet you, Mr. Gargano.”

The door closed and Cliff exhaled. “What now?”

“I’m getting out. You’re going to drive away, just like he said to.”

“Um, no. You can get out. I figured you would. I’m staying right here.”

Tino didn’t have time to argue. “Okay.” He pulled Cliff across the console in a one-armed hug. “Thank you.”

“Be careful,” Cliff whispered. “I’ll be waiting here to get us out of Dodge as fast as I can. Don’t get killed. You and Charlie deserve a lifetime together.”

We do. Tino was going to make sure of it.

* * *

Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 12:45 p.m.

Charlotte was startled at the sound of the doorbell. “Are you expecting someone?” she asked.

Kevin shook his head. “Keep chopping. I want to put that knife away.”

She kept chopping, but the bell rang again and then a third time. She made a face. “It doesn’t sound like they’re going away.”

Kevin took both knives from her hands before leaning down and brushing a kiss against her lips. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she said, hoping she’d masked her disappointment at losing the knives. And her revulsion at his kiss.

She waited until he’d left the room before shuddering. Then she got busy, grabbing a bowl to mix the peppery spices with the freshly chopped jalape?o. She’d chopped the entire bag of jalape?os, at least a dozen of them, telling Kevin that she planned to freeze most of it so that he wouldn’t have to babysit her knife use in the future.

She hadn’t expected him to accept that explanation, but he had.

She dumped the entire contents of each spice bottle into the bowl. The cayenne pepper was fairly intense all on its own. The powdered ghost pepper was the best find. That was super intense. Mixed with all the other spices, she should have a decent weapon in her hands. Especially since most of the spices had come in huge bottles.

Kevin must have shopped at Costco.

Best to minimize the frequency of deliveries if you’re keeping a woman and a child hostage , she thought, trying to stay calm.

Opening a drawer, she swept the empty bottles into it so that Kevin wouldn’t know what she’d done. Then she held her breath as she mixed the contents, adding most of the chopped jalape?os and their juices. Her eyes were watering like faucets. The mix was potent, but would it be enough?

It has to be enough.

Quickly she put a skillet on the cooktop and started heating some oil. She’d sauté the bell pepper and the remaining jalape?os. If she didn’t get a chance to toss the contents of the bowl in his face, she might be able to use the contents of the skillet.

Or the skillet itself. Her right arm was pretty strong—it was her cane arm. She took out a second skillet and placed it on the other side of the sink, just in case she needed a plan B.

She hurried, pulling the bowl full of peppery spices toward her when she heard Kevin’s footsteps approaching.

“Who was that?” she asked without turning around.

“A nosy neighbor,” Kevin said with the irritation she’d anticipated. “What smells good?”

“I’m sautéing peppers.”

His footsteps came closer until she could feel the heat of his body.

Here goes nothing.

Gripping the bowl, she waited until he stood next to the skillet, observing the contents with a frown. He blinked rapidly as his eyes began to water.

“Where are the other peppers? I thought you were going to freeze the rest of them,” he said, then turned to face her, and she knew that this was it.

She flung the contents of the bowl full into his face and stepped back, her heart beating so hard that it hurt.

He screamed, his face contorting in pain. “You fucking bitch!” He dropped the knives to the floor but held onto the gun, his now-free hand coming up to rub at his eyes.

Keep rubbing, asshole. That’ll only make it worse.

Kevin fired then, the bullet hitting the ceiling, showering plaster on their heads.

Knives. Where are the knives?

Charlotte blinked because her eyes were watering, too. Her lungs were burning and she started to cough. The dust from the spices hung in the air and she was breathing it in.

But so was Kevin. She’d fallen to her knees, feeling around for the large knife he’d dropped when a door slammed open, hitting the opposite wall. It had come from the direction of what she’d assumed was the basement.

“ Holy Mother of God. Charlie, what did you do?”

“ Tino ,” she gasped softly. Tino was here.

Kevin spun around, pointing his gun in Tino’s direction.

“Gun!” Charlotte shouted, her fingers encountering the knife a split second later. She gripped it and, holding on to the table, pushed herself to her feet and grabbed his wrist hard, pushing the gun so that it pointed at the floor. She wouldn’t be able to keep him from regaining control of the gun. He was so much stronger than she was. But it might give Tino the time to save Kayla.

“I will kill you,” Kevin snarled. “And then I’ll kill him.”

Charlotte couldn’t see anything but murky shadows through the moisture in her eyes. “Not if I kill you first,” she promised, stumbling when Kevin yanked his wrist free. He fired the gun and for a moment she waited, holding her breath. But no one cried out, and she could hear Tino quietly reassuring Kayla.

“There. You’re free. Run, honey. Go downstairs to the basement. Climb out of the window if you can. There’s help outside.”

A moment later a hand gripped Charlotte’s hair and yanked her forward.

She stumbled sideways into a hard chest, wider than Tino’s. She gripped the knife tighter, freezing when she felt the cold barrel of Kevin’s gun pressed against her forehead.

“Put the gun down,” Tino commanded, but Kevin only laughed.

“No fucking way.”

Charlotte put her free hand on Kevin’s abdomen. Right there. The knife goes right there.

“The house is surrounded by cops, you idiot,” Tino snarled. “They’ll shoot you on sight.”

“Not if I have Charlie as a hostage. And if I can’t have her, no one will.”

Charlotte thought she’d be sick at the thought. Stab him. Do it.

She plunged the knife into Kevin’s gut as hard as she could manage.

He roared in pain, tightening his hold on her hair.

This was it. He’d shoot her now.

But then came a clanging sound and Kevin took one faltering step forward before falling to the floor, dragging Charlotte with him. She landed on her hands and knees, moaning as her hip jolted, the pain echoing throughout her body.

A new scream erupted from Kevin and, though her vision was fuzzy, she could see that he’d fallen face-first, driving the knife deeper into his gut.

She looked up to see Tino standing above them, holding the skillet from the stovetop. He put the skillet back on the stove and bent to lift her gently.

“You okay?” he rasped.

“Can’t breathe. Need to get outside.”

He slid an arm around her waist, helping her walk from the kitchen, but she shook her head. “Get his keys,” she said. “And his gun.”

“Got his gun already. Grabbed it when I hit him with the pan. Where are his keys?”

“Check his pocket.”

Tino let her go, but was back in ten seconds, although it felt like ten hours. “Found them. Kayla! Are you still here?”

Footsteps thundered up the stairs. “I couldn’t reach the basement window.” There was a pause. “Is he dead?”

“I don’t know,” Tino said, “but we’re getting out of here.”

Charlotte dragged herself to the front door with Tino’s help. Everything hurt, but she was free. Tino had come.

A moment later the lock clicked and the door opened.

Cool, sweet air filled Charlotte’s lungs, but they still burned.

Everything burned—her eyes, her lungs, the inside of her mouth and down her throat.

“I may have overdone the spices,” she muttered.

Tino’s laugh sounded choked. “Maybe.”

He helped her down the front porch stairs, Kayla taking her other arm.

“You okay, honey?” Charlotte asked Kayla.

“Yeah.” But the girl was still crying. “He didn’t hurt me, but he killed those cops at our house.”

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Charlotte said miserably, then coughed.

She could hear shouts and opening doors, but they sounded kind of far away. Across the street?

“Not your fault,” Kayla said. “It’s his . That asshole in there. Is he dead?”

“Don’t know,” Tino said. “Don’t care. All I care about is that you two are safe.”

“Where did you come from?” Charlotte asked.

“Basement,” Tino said. “The cops were going to have to try to negotiate with the bastard. I couldn’t wait for them to try.”

“He was going to keep me forever,” she said dully, because now that this was over, the adrenaline was crashing. “He wouldn’t have let me go. I need to sit down.”

Then she did, her legs collapsing beneath her. Tino and Kayla kept her from hitting the ground too hard, slowly lowering her to her knees. They sat beside her, helping her situate herself so that she sat on her butt. The ground was cold and wet, but she was free and she would never complain again.

“Oh my God. Tino Ciccotelli. ” An angry male voice was snarling at them.

“Vito,” Tino said evenly. “So Nick called you?”

“He did. Told me what you were planning. What the fucking hell do you think you were doing?” Vito raged.

Tino’s sigh was weary. “What I had to. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t wait for you to do it by the book.”

Charlotte squinted up at Vito. He was still just a fuzzy figure. “He saved my life. Don’t yell at him.”

Vito grunted. “I’ll yell at him later when you’re not around to listen. I’ve called an ambulance. Are the three of you okay? What happened to you?”

“Homemade pepper spray,” Charlotte said. Her chest convulsed in another bout of coughing. “Kevin’s in there. I stabbed him.”

“And I hit him with a skillet,” Tino added. “He might be dead, but I doubt it. Here’s his gun.”

Blinking hard, Charlotte saw him pass the weapon to Vito.

Vito was frowning. “You have another gun, Tino.”

“I do. It’s mine. Got a concealed carry permit. I’m legal.”

“Did you use it?”

“No.” Tino sounded embarrassed. “In all the confusion, I kind of forgot and the skillet was just there.”

“At least you didn’t shoot him,” Vito muttered. “You made pepper spray, Charlotte?”

Charlotte only nodded, figuring that they’d find the evidence of what she’d done. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“It’s intense in there,” Tino said. “You should wear a gas mask or a respirator when you go in to get Hale.”

Vito began directing his people to protect themselves before entering the house, then knelt in front of them, scowling at Tino. “Nick said you went through a basement window.”

“Nick is a tattling bastard,” Tino said. “The windows were nailed shut. I had to break the glass, but the window was just big enough for me to fit through.”

“Are you cut?”

“Not much. Worth it, anyway. I got up to the kitchen and freed Kayla. Charlotte had already let loose with her pepper mixture.”

“Kevin would have killed me,” Charlotte murmured. Of that she had no doubt. There was no way she could have kept up the act indefinitely.

“We’ll take care of him,” Vito assured her. “Kayla, this is Detective Joanne Perkins. Go with her, and she’ll let you call your mom. She’s been worried sick.”

Kayla’s presence disappeared, and Charlotte closed her eyes.

It was done. “I did it.”

Tino’s hand engulfed hers. “You did. I’m so proud of you. You were scared, but you used your head. You’re a superstar, baby.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I need a shower. I have pepper in my hair.”

Tino laughed quietly. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.”

She believed him.