“Why do you want him so badly, Clancy?”
“I just might tell you someday,” Clancy said. “Not that I necessarily believe it.” He took a couple of steps back to stand at the end of the bed, his gun aimed directly at Sam.
“Don’t even think of trying anything, Mr. Kettering, or I’ll shoot the boy. Believe me on this. I ain’t got nothin’ to lose here. Both of you get up now. You might as well put some clothes on, Mr. Kettering, it’s pretty cold out there. The kid’s just fine in his pajamas.” He fell silent, watching them. “Hey, I wonder if those deputies are croaked yet. Shouldn’t be long if they aren’t already. We just might take their car, what do you think?”
“Why would you do that? How did you get here?”
“Never you mind about that.”
Miles said, “Sam, I want you to get out of bed real slow. Stand over there, okay?”
“Papa-”
“Do as I say. Everything will be all right, I promise you that.”
Clancy laughed under his breath. He watched Sam slide away from his father, off the side of the bed. He stood there, in his red pajamas.
“Hey, Mickey Mouse, those are neat,” Clancy said. “Now you, Mr. Kettering. I want you to be real careful. You see where I’m aiming now? Right at the kid’s head. I’ll kill him if you force me to.”
But would he really? Miles didn’t think so. Whoever had hired Clancy wanted Sam too badly, but he wasn’t about to take the chance. Miles eased out of the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was wearing only his boxer shorts. The air was chilly. Slowly, he stood. Clancy threw him his jeans. He pulled them on, fastened them. He held out his hand. “My sweater’s over there.”
Clancy tossed it to him. When he had it pulled over his head, Clancy said, “No shoes. I don’t want you trying to make a break for it. Now, put your hands behind your neck.”
Miles laced his fingers behind his head.
“Okay, now, you walk out of here first, Mr. Kettering. Sam, you follow your dad. Do it, now. Keep walking. Kid, you behave yourself.”
He doesn’t want Sam dead, Miles kept thinking. Everything hinges on his taking Sam alive. But why? All Miles needed was an opening, a small lapse on Clancy’s part, and he could take him. He held himself ready, listened to every breath Clancy drew, realized he didn’t breathe easily because he was so heavy, and he was hurt. Just how badly, Miles couldn’t guess. He watched Clancy’s gun, watched how it remained aimed at Sam’s head.
Miles walked slowly down the hall. He barely heard Sam’s steps behind him because he was wearing a nice thick pair of Katie’s socks. They were nearly to Katie’s bedroom door.
This is easy, Clancy, so easy. You can relax a bit, can’t you now? You’ve got us.
They reached the living room in utter silence. Moonlight showed through the front window that wasn’t boarded up. Not much, but enough so no one would trip over anything.
Slowly, Clancy motioned Miles to move aside. He grabbed Sam’s arm and dragged him toward the front door.
“Papa-”
“Shut up, you little varmint!”
He held Sam with one hand, realized that he couldn’t turn the dead bolt with a gun in his other hand, and stood there a minute, wondering what to do.
“Come here, Mr. Kettering. I want you to open that door or I’ll hurt your kid.”
He pulled Sam back against his stomach.
Miles walked to the front door and unfastened the locks.
“Open it.”
Miles opened the front door. The night wind rushed in, cool, sharp.
“Put your hands behind your head and walk.”
Miles stopped at the edge of the wide porch that wrapped around the house, touched his bare toe against a rocking chair leg.
“Well, go on down. We’ll check out those cops, see if they’re dead yet. Then we’ll take their car. I still can’t believe that damned sheriff ruined my van.”
“How did you get back here, Clancy?”
“I already told you, that ain’t none of your business, buddy. Walk down those damned stairs!”
Clancy had to know that he was running out of time. Miles had to see exactly where Sam was before he moved. Clancy and Sam were just in his peripheral vision behind him, just off to the right. Clancy had his arm around Sam’s neck, held him tightly against his side.
On the second step, Miles yelled, “Drop, Sam!”
Sam went limp and dropped to the ground. In the same instant Miles turned and kicked out, his foot crushing Clancy’s injured arm. The gun went flying.
Clancy screamed even as he grabbed Sam by his neck and lifted him off the ground, twisting, holding him away from him. Miles kicked again, this time in the middle of his chest. Clancy dropped Sam and went flying back, grabbing his chest, unable to breathe.
At that moment, Katie came through the open doorway, barefoot, her SIG Sauer in both hands in front of her.
She yelled, as she crouched, “Hold it, Clancy!”
“I’ve got him,” Miles said, and she saw that he was smiling of all things, an awful smile that held raw hate and triumph.
As he moved toward Clancy, he yelled, “Katie, check the deputies. There’s gas in the car, hurry!”
Miles smashed his palm into Clancy’s nose, and brought his knee up hard into his crotch.
Clancy screamed and went down onto his knees, holding himself. Katie literally jumped over Clancy and went flying off the porch, and Miles winced as her bare feet struck stone and gravel, but she didn’t slow. She jerked open the passenger’s side door and pulled the deputy out onto the ground, then ran to the driver’s side, and dragged the other man out as well.
Clancy, still bent over, staggered to his feet, his eyes on Sam, who was on his hands and knees, scooting backward toward the edge of the porch.
“It’s okay, Sam.” Miles jumped toward him and slammed his fist into Clancy’s jaw. He felt the skin on his knuckles split, but it felt good, sending this monster into oblivion with his bare fist. He watched him fall senseless, then turned to see Katie bent over one of the deputies, listening for a breath. Sam was sitting on the edge of the porch, huddled over, not saying a word.
“Mama?”
“It’s okay, Keely,” Miles said. “You stay in the house, okay? Your mom will get you in just a minute. Don’t move, Keely. Katie, do I need to see to the other deputy?”
Before Katie answered, she saw that Clancy was down, not moving, not even moaning and was lying on his side, facing the house. She didn’t have any cuffs and couldn’t leave Cole here, possibly dying. It was okay, Clancy was down and out.
“Miles, you got him good. Hurry!”
Miles kicked Clancy just to make sure he was really unconscious, and pushed his gun in his pants. “Come with me, Sam. We’ve got to help the deputies.”
Katie raised her head a moment to say, “Cole’s not dead! He’s breathing!” before she moved over to the other man. Miles was aware that Keely was standing over her mom, just as Sam was standing next to him. He quickly looked toward the porch. Clancy hadn’t twitched. “Sam, run inside and get my cell phone and bring it to me.”
When Sam handed Miles his cell, he punched 911. A short time later, they heard sirens loud in the still night.
The paramedics immediately covered the deputies’ noses and mouths with oxygen masks. “It looks to me like that was close,” said Mackey. He cocked a brow at Katie. “I’d call this a crime spree, Sheriff. You’re really keeping us busy. You and the kids okay?”
“I think so.” She pointed to Clancy. “For a fat guy, he moves as quietly as a cat burglar. I have no idea what sort of shape he’s in, though. Mr. Kettering didn’t pull any punches. But he’s alive, and that’s the important thing. Now we’ll find out who hired him. We’ll need you all to transport him once we’ve got you a police escort.”
“Nuts,” Mackey said. “The jerk must be just plain nuts.”