Clinton snorted a sharp laugh out his nose. “Sure, so you can get a gun you have hid in there? Or a knife?” He laughed again. “That ain’t gonna happen.”
“Okay, you can come and watch. Since you’re so helpless, I’ll even teach you how to make a sandwich. You wouldn’t even have to undo the zip ties on me.”
“She’s up to something, Clinton,” Reagan said from the living room easy chair. “Don’t trust her.”
“You’re hungry, aren’t you Clinton?” she said to him. “I bet a strong guy like you gets hungry a lot.”
“I’m a little hungry too,” Georgie said.
“Fine. We’ll get a pizza for all you ladies, just so y’all don’t start cryin’. Is there someplace around here that delivers?” Reagan finally said.
“Not here in the hills,” said June back to him. “There’s a place down the road at the base of the canyon that has take out. One of your clowns can go pick it up. I’ll even pay.”
Clinton took a handful of her hair and twisted it around, wrenching her head sideways. “You’re in no position to do any name callin’, understand?”
“Just trying to get you something to eat...” she said, grimacing.
“Knock it off, Clinton.” Reagan tossed the phone down on the table again. “I don’t want either of you being away for that long to pick up a pizza from town.”
Clinton let loose of her hair and tossed her down again.
“I saw a minimart down the road a few blocks,” Georgie offered. “I could swing down there and be back in just a few minutes.”
June craned her head up to look in Georgie’s direction. She had to keep her agenda moving forward. “Get money from my purse. They have sandwiches there. And get some juice also.”
“Can I, Reagan?” asked Georgie.
“Yeah, fine, whatever. Just don’t drag your feet. As soon as we get that combination, you and I are out of here.”
Georgie went to the things dumped from June’s purse on the desk, and got her wallet. June watched him, not at his hands picking though her money, but in fear that he might find Amy’s new phone number written on the desk pad of paper. He stayed focused on her money, and took only what he might need, even returning the rest to her wallet.
Reagan picked up the phone and began scrolling again. June watched Georgie reach for the front door knob.
“I wouldn’t open that door if I were you...” June called from across the room.
Reagan looked up. Georgie froze and turned. “Why?”
June had to think fast, only hatching the idea that moment. The biggest problem in getting her idea to work was to make it sound plausible. “When you came into the house through the door and then closed it, it activated the alarm system.”
“So?” Reagan asked.
“So, see that little red light on the alarm system control box?” All their eyes went to the alarm box mounted on the wall next to the front door. “That means the system wasn’t set properly, and will send a message to the authorities if the door is opened again. Now, if you let me have use of a hand, I can reset it.”
“Nice try...” Clinton muttered from his position leaning against the wall.
“But what if there’s a fire and you’re just running out the door? How does it know which authorities to send the message?”
“The alarm has a carbon monoxide monitor and smoke alarm built in. If it doesn’t sense smoke and the door opens, the message is sent to a security agency, and then to the police. You’d get out of the house but not down the hill before the cops were coming up.”
“Yeah, but how do we know it wasn’t set correctly? You could be lying to us,” Clinton said.
“Have I lied to you yet? Every step of the way I’ve cooperated, right? Anyway, if it was set properly with the right code number, a little green light would show.”
Georgie inspected the control box. “Hey, there is another little light on here. It looks like it would be green also, if it were lit up.”
“What is it with you women? Codes and safes and everything locked up tight,” said Reagan before turning his attention back to the Disney movie that had started on the TV. “Just give George the code number.”
“Needs a thumb on that touch pad, the correct thumb.” She looked at Georgie, the most gullible of the group. “Flip open that front cover on the alarm box. See that shiny black square inside? That’s the touch pad.”
June could see Georgie’s eyes flit from her face to her hand secured at her waist. He looked at the box again, trying to figure out the logistics of getting her hand up to the box without cutting her arm loose. She couldn’t let him figure it out.
“But we can go out the back garden gate with less trouble. You just have to take me along.”
“Why?”
“At the gate, the control panel is low on the wall, so you don’t even have to untie me for it. That’s the only way it’ll work,” June explained. “It really was a mistake closing the door like that.”
The deal was okayed by Reagan, the man in charge, also the one least at ease. She could tell he was trying to hide it, but he showed all the earmarks of losing his nerves. It meant he was most likely to use his gun, but was also most easily tricked with confusion. June had to rely on that.
Georgie helped June to a standing position. She eyed him close up and saw he wasn’t any bigger than her, and probably not as strong.
He took his pistol out of his pocket and pushed her toward the back door.
“Kids, stay on the couch,” she said over her shoulder. “No talking.”
She waddled as she led him out the patio door and around the side of the house, turning the corner in silence. With Georgie right behind her, he couldn’t see her work a hand loose from the zip ties, freeing up one hand. When they got to the gate with the old potting shed next to it, she stopped and turned toward Georgie.
He looked around at the wall and fence. “Where’s the box?” he asked.
“Right here.”
She swung her arm at the gun, which went flying into the garden. Before he could react, she swung up again, catching him under the chin with her forearm. While he was still unsteady, she took a cross at his face.
That last blow put him on the ground. Since her legs were tied together, she couldn’t finish him off with her favorite weapon, a heavy stomp to the chest. Instead, she landed a hammerstrike to his throat.
George’s head flew back and hit the corner of the potting shed with a bounce. When he settled, he laid motionless on the pathway.
“Stupid dickhead.”
She had to hurry. Not visible from the patio windows, she got the potting shed door open and found rope. She was able to lash the man’s arms and legs together, and then pulled the rubber mask from his face. She had never seen him before. Without delay, she shoved an old rag in his mouth, wrapping the last of the rope around his head as a gag. Using only one hand, she dragged him into the potting shed.
Just before closing the door, she had a thought. She poked through his pockets, found the last of the plastic ties, and stuffed them in her pocket. She could use them later.
June found the gun in the garden and considered going back to the house with it. Having a shoot out with two armed men that acted as though they had nothing to lose seemed like a bad idea. Plus, with her nieces right in the middle of the group, there was no way she would risk their lives. Especially since she had never been a good shot with a gun.
She could also cut the bands with a tool and run, and call the police from a neighbor’s house. If it were only her, she would give it more consideration. But abandoning the kids was out of the question. She had to go back into the house.
She removed the magazine from the pistol and discovered it was empty. She tried a couple times to eject the cartridge already loaded into the gun, but there wasn’t one. In the end, the gun was never a threat to her or the kids. She tossed all of it into a small grove of bamboo at the side of the shed. Just as she began waddling back to the patio, she heard the back door bang open.