Page 139 of You'll Never Find Me

“We were married.”

“You taught her she wasn’t allowed to say no by hurting her when she didn’t feel like spreading her legs for you.”

He backhanded me. I didn’t see it coming and I fell over. Damn, that hurt.

“Please, Mr. Carillo, there is no need for violence,” Rafe said. “Sit down, let’s talk.”

He didn’t sit. Instead, he paced, glaring at me. I much preferred his attention on me than on Rafe.

“We are married,” Carillo said. “Annie is my wife. I gave her everything. A house. A car. Two children. I was here every night. I never cheated on her. I was a good husband. Unlike my father and her father, who both left their families. I would never leave her, leave my children. How could she do this to me?”

My cell phone rang.

Peter looked down at my phone in his hand. The caller ID should read Annie C. He immediately answered. “Annie?”

This was where the plan was iffy. Okay, the whole plan was iffy, but having Luisa call and pretend to be Annie was the dangerous part. The plan was mine, but Jack improved on it, suggested that the connection be “poor” and Lu speak quietly as if her voice is coming through a tunnel. I gave her some things to say that would, hopefully, distract Carillo so I could get Rafe to safety.

I was, after all, wearing a wire. It was in a barrette in my hair, a place he didn’t even think to check. When I said the magic word, the police would storm in.

I thought it would take weeks, months, to find something to take Peter Carillo down. All it took was five days before he cracked. He kidnapped a priest. He would be in jail for a long, long time.

“Annie, I can barely hear you. Speak up!”

He was straining to listen and walked to the opposite side of the living room. I sat up, braced my back against the wall so I could get to my feet quickly. He turned away and I started to pull my .380, but he turned around again.

“Where are you? I’ll come and get you. You can’t leave me.”

He paced and went to the far side of the kitchen. I didn’t like that Rafe was now between him and me. I needed Carillo on my side of the room.

“Get someplace where the phone works!” Carillo screamed and whirled around. “I have the priest here, the man who took you from me. You went to him?” Carillo stood next to Rafe.

I heard sobbing over the phone. Good. I’d told Luisa to cry if she couldn’t think of what to say.

“I’m not going to hurt anybody,” Carillo said. “Why would you think that? I’ve never hurt you.”

He listened, frowned, then stared at me.

“That bitch told you to say that. I never raped you. Do not say that. We’re married. It’s not rape!”

Carillo was coming toward me. Good. Focus on me, not my uncle.

Carillo stared at me when he told Annie, “You’re my wife. You are supposed to submit to me when and where I want. You can’t change the rules. I gave you everything, everything... I can’t hear you, dammit! I will find you. I don’t care where you are, I will find you and my children and bring you home.”

He threw the phone across the room. “Where is she?” he yelled at me. “I couldn’t hear hardly anything. Where is she?”

He pulled me up and put his gun to my head.

I was angry and scared. He was too volatile, and I had no idea how to deal with him. “I don’t know,” I said calmly. “Put the gun down and let Father Morales go.”

He pushed me against the wall, but I was expecting it and braced myself. Now he was close. Very close.

The perfect time to go on the offensive.

“Rafe, take cover,” I shouted at my uncle as I kicked my boot deep into Carillo’s groin. He grunted, bent over, but didn’t drop his gun.

I took advantage of his momentary pain and kicked his legs out from under him. Rafe hadn’t moved. I heard pounding on the front door; the police were ramming their way in.

I slammed my heel on the wrist of his hand that held the gun, forcing him to drop it. He did, and I tried to kick it away when he grabbed my ankle and pulled me down to the floor. He reached for the gun, and I brawled. He was bigger than me, and being on the floor wasn’t to my advantage. Women could fight men, but not hand to hand. We had different tools, focusing on pain points and skills, but men were generally stronger and hand-to-hand was almost always a losing proposition.