“And you think I have the combination to the safe?”
“No. You just made it sound like you don’t. Which means we need to get it from her.” He grinned at her. “And we ain’t waitin’ till she gets back here. We want the combination to the safe, and the code that will get us past the alarm system at the house. Plus, we want the pass from your car that will get us past the guard at the front gate to the neighborhood.”
“You don’t want much, do you?” June fidgeted uncomfortably in her tight plastic restraints. “Anything else? A helicopter to take you to a yacht out at sea for your get-away?”
“Not a bad idea. But we already have that all worked out.”
June watched the twins watching the television, a colorful and busy children’s show she had never seen before. They had settled down and were more interested in the show than what was going on around them. Both had at least one finger in their mouth. Satisfied there was a measure of control in the house, at least over emotions, she looked back at the man in the easy chair.
“How do you know I’m going to cooperate?”
Silently, Reagan left his chair and went to the couch where the girls were sitting. Holding the cigarette with his teeth, he pushed the girls’ shoulders together, and then their heads. They looked startled to be touched from behind and began whimpering again.
“Hey! Leave them alone!” June struggled against the plastic ties.
He pulled the gun from his jacket pocket and shoved the muzzle up against the side of a head. He slid the gun around in the girl’s hair until it settled onto a point just over her ear.
Reagan looked back at June. “This is how we get you to cooperate...”
Hot tears welled up in June’s eyes hearing the girls whimpering more.
“Sit still, girls, and be quiet,” June warned them. “Sit still or auntie will be very angry with you.” She looked again at the gun in the man’s hand, and then back at his face. “Do that and you have no leverage at all. It would be a one way trip to the gas chamber.”
“Want to try out your theory?” the man asked, smoke curling up from the cigarette locked between his teeth. “So far we’ve left no evidence, no prints or fibers anywhere in the house. Two bullets would silence the three of you forever. Then we’d simply walk out the front door happier than a gang of missionaries.”
June thought about the situation. Amy had mentioned she was spending the weekend at home, and there was no way she would send these men to her house if Amy was home. The situation was bad enough already; she wasn’t going to let it get worse.
“But I don’t know the combination to her safe! I didn’t even know she had a safe until you told me!”
“Look, idiot. There’s this new technology called cell phones. You’re going to call her and get the combination. Right now.”
“But...”
She watched as he flicked the safety off his pistol, making the gun ready to be fired.
“Fine.”
He left the gun aimed where it was. “This is how it works. We’ll use your phone. Clinton will dial the number and hold the phone up to your ear. You talk nice and calm. No chitchat, no girl talk. Got it?”
June nodded her head.
“You’ll calmly explain the situation to her, about how there is a gun held to the heads of her precious little miracles, but all we want is the money from the safe. Once we get that, we go away and none of you ever sees us again.”
“But what if...”
“No what ifs.” He smiled. “If she hears a gunshot, she’ll know we’re for real.”
June stared back. Her soul wanted to cry, but her mind won that fight. Crying could be done later. Right now she needed to keep a clear mind.
“If she hears a gun shot, she’ll have no reason to give you the combination.”
“We’ll still have you to negotiate with.”
“All you want is the combination to the safe?”
“It’s a complex safe. There’s an electronic password that needs to be put in, plus a dial combination, to get the safe open. You’ll get both, repeat them out loud so I can hear. Any questions?”
She nodded. “How’d you learn all that?”
“Not your problem, is it, auntie?”
“Where’s your phone?” Georgie asked after he stood up from the dinner table.
“My purse, on the desk.”
George dumped the contents of June’s purse on the desk and collected her smart phone. He began scrolling through numbers looking for the right one.
“How do you have her listed?” he asked when he got to her side.
June kept her eyes on Reagan, and on the pistol held against Koemi’s head. He gave June a look as though she shouldn’t stall. “Sis.”
George kept scrolling.
“Just make sure she understands exactly what we want. No fuss, no long explanations. She needs to know we’re serious.”
Reagan nodded his head at Clinton, who then went to June’s side. She was still in the middle of the living room, wrists and ankles restrained. Clinton pulled out his pistol and set the muzzle against her head, in the exact same point Reagan’s gun was aimed at Koemi’s head, just above her ear.
Georgie found the number labeled ‘sis’ and pressed call. He held the phone out in front of June, where they could hear it ringing. For the first time since being tied up, she broke eye contact with Reagan and stared down at the phone.
She listened to it ring, then another ring, and then again. June listened as it rang a seventh, an eighth, a tenth time. No answer, not even voice mail.
“She’s not answering,” June said. “She’s too busy.”
“Georgie, did you dial the right number?” Reagan asked impatiently.
He looked at the screen. “It’s says sis on it.”
June could see sweat forming on Reagan’s neck below the edge of the mask, running down into his shirt. Part of it was the rubber mask over his head, and maybe part was his nerves. She needed to apply more pressure to force him into a mistake.
“If you take off the masks, you won’t be so hot,” she told them.
“And risk going back to prison? Forget that,” Clinton said.
“Shut your hole!” shouted Reagan.
He answered what June had been thinking, that they knew each other in prison. She needed to tread lightly, but still apply pressure.
“Who helped you with all this?” she asked. “There is no way you could’ve got that much information about her without help, especially about the safe. Or how you knew the kids would be here today.”
“Shut up.” Reagan glanced down at the phone. “Georgie, you sure you dialed the right number?”
“Yeah, but...”
“But nothing. Her name is Amy. Look at all the ‘A’ names. She might have it hidden in there.”
June set her eyes on Reagan, ignoring Georgie working with the phone in front of her and Clinton at her side. Mostly, she did her best to ignore the hard metal muzzle pressed against her nieces’ heads.
Scrolling through numbers one at a time for several minutes, Georgie said, “There’s nothing here with her name.”
“Try the first one again.”
Georgie found ‘sis’ and dialed.
June stared down at the phone as it rang a dozen more times.
“She went out of town for peace and quiet for the weekend,” June lied. She knew if the men found out Amy was home right then, they might go straight there for their second home invasion of the day. But she was as confused as they were why Amy wasn’t answering her calls. “She probably turned her phone off.”
“Why isn’t it going to voice mail?” Reagan asked.
“I have no idea. Maybe she saw my number and just doesn’t want to talk to me?” June asked. “I mean, there are more interesting people to talk to than me.”
Reagan was obviously pissed that the call hadn’t gone though. His neck had broken into a full sweat and he tugged at the edges of the rubber mask. He dropped his cigarette to the hardwood floor and stepped his toe on it. “If you’re screwing with us...”