• • •
Sitting in the back of the SUV, Brandon was still dazed from the blow to his head. Titus pointed his gun at him.
“Brandon?”
“Where’s my mother?”
“You’ll see her soon enough. For now, I want you to stay still. If you do something I don’t like, your mother will be killed immediately. Do you understand?”
Brandon nodded and stayed still.
Titus was nervous as they crossed the George Washington Bridge. He feared that the police might be on them, that someone who had witnessed Clem’s exuberance on 67th Street might have notified the authorities. But the traffic had been slim on the West Side Highway. The ride took less than fifteen minutes, not enough time, Titus surmised, to start mounting a full-fledged APB on their SUV. Still, Titus had Clem pull over at the Teaneck Marriott right off Route 95. He debated stealing another car, but it would be better to just change license plates. They found another black SUV parked in the back and using a battery-operated screwdriver, Clem switched plates in a matter of seconds.
They drove back onto the New Jersey Turnpike and headed south toward the farm.
• • •
“Do they have the chopper up?” Kat asked.
“They said it’ll take another five minutes.”
“Okay, good,” she said. Then: “Wait, hold up.”
“What?”
“They just pulled into the Marriott.”
“Maybe that’s where they’re staying.”
“Let the feds know.”
She took the ramp, staying two cars behind them. She saw them pull into the lot and circle toward the back. She stopped on the side, inching her way so that she had an angle but could stay out of sight.
The driver got out. She considered making a move, right here and now, but as long as she couldn’t see what was going on with Brandon in the back, it would be too risky. She waited and watched.
A minute later, she was on the line again with Chaz.
“They just switched license plates and headed back onto the road.”
“Which way?”
“South. Looks like they’re getting on the New Jersey Turnpike.”
• • •
Reynaldo ran with everything he had toward Bo’s bark.
If that woman has done something to Bo, if she has so much as touched a hair on his head . . .
Reynaldo now wanted her to die slowly.
Bo was still barking when Reynaldo reached the clearing. His legs pumped hard as he ran with everything he had toward the house. He leapt the steps, landing hard on the wraparound porch.
Bo had stopped barking.
Oh God, oh God, please don’t let anything happen to . . .
He started running toward the front door when Bo appeared. He dropped to his knees in relief.
“Bo!” he shouted.
The dog ran toward him. Reynaldo spread his arms and hugged his dog. Bo licked his face.
From inside the house, he heard Dana scream, “Run, Brandon! Just run!”
Reynaldo took out his gun. He was only a few steps away from the doorway now. He rose, ready to end this problem once and for all, when something made him pull up in panic.
Bo’s paws were covered in blood.
If she hurt my dog, if she hurt this sweet innocent dog who never did anyone any harm . . .
He checked the front paws for wounds. Nothing. He checked the back paws. Nothing. Reynaldo looked into Bo’s eyes.
The dog wagged his tail as though to tell Reynaldo he was fine.
Relief flooded his veins, but then another thought hit him.
If the blood didn’t belong to Bo, whose was it?
He had his gun at the ready. He put his back against the door. When he turned and entered the house, he ducked low just in case she was waiting for him.
No movement.
Then Reynaldo saw the mess on the floor that had once been Dmitry.
Had Dana done that to him?
Rage consumed him. That bitch. Oh man, she was going to pay.
But how? How had she done that to Dimitry? Answer: She must now be armed. She must have grabbed something from the barn. There was no other explanation for so much blood.
Next question: Where was she now?
Reynaldo spotted the bloody footprints on the floor. His eyes followed them to where they stopped—at the kitchen door. He grabbed his walkie-talkie and called Julio. “Are you at the back of the house?”
“Just arrived.”
“Do you see any blood by the kitchen door?”
“No, nothing. It’s clear back here.”
“Good.” He smiled now. “Have your guns ready and pointed that way. She may be armed.”
Chapter 42
Behind the copper-roofed Kerbs Boathouse in Central Park, Aqua sat cross-legged. His eyes were closed. His tongue was pressing against the roof of his mouth. His thumbs and middle fingers formed circles. His hands rested near his knees.
Jeff Raynes sat next to him.
“She found me,” Jeff said.
Aqua nodded. He had loaded up on his meds today. He hated them. They made him miserable and depressed, like he was underwater and couldn’t move. They made him feel lifeless. Aqua often compared himself to a broken vending machine. When it was on, you never knew what you got. You may get scalding hot coffee when you asked for cool water. But at least the machine was on. When he was on his drugs, it was as though the machine was unplugged.
Still, Aqua needed the clarity. Not for long. But for a few minutes anyway.
“Do you still love her?” Aqua asked him.
“Yes. You know that.”
“You’ve always loved her.”
“Always.”
Aqua kept his eyes closed. “Do you believe that she still loves you?”
Jeff grunted. “If only it were that simple.”
“It’s been eighteen years,” Aqua said.
“You’re not going to tell me time heals all wounds, are you?”
“No. But why are you here, Jeff?”
He didn’t respond.
“Isn’t your talking to me a futile exercise anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“You saw her today.”
“Yes,” Jeff said.
“You let her go once. Do you really think you have the strength to do that again?”
Silence.
Aqua finally opened his eyes. The pain etched on his friend’s face made him wince. He reached out a hand and put it on Jeff’s forearm.
“I made my choice,” Jeff said.
“And how did that work out for you?”
“I can’t regret it. I wouldn’t have my daughter if I hadn’t left.”
Aqua nodded. “But it’s been a long time.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe everything happened for a reason. Maybe this was how your love story was supposed to go.”
“She’ll never forgive me.”
“You’d be surprised what love can overcome.”
Jeff made a face. “Time heals all wounds, everything happens for a reason, and love conquers all? You’re loading up on your clichés today.”
“Jeff?”
“What?”
“My meds aren’t going to hold me together much longer. In a few minutes, I will crash and start panicking again. I will think about you and Kat and I will want to kill myself.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Then listen to me. Einstein described insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. So what are you going to do, Jeff? Are you going to run away and crush both your hearts again? Or are you going to try something different?”
• • •
Reynaldo knew he had Dana trapped.
Still staring at the bloody footprints, he worked the mental layout of the kitchen. The table, the chairs, the cupboard—there was no place for her to hide. Her only hope was to attack him when he entered. Or . . .
Without warning, he shoved the door hard with both hands.
He didn’t follow the door into the kitchen. She might be expecting that. If she were waiting near the door, if she were hoping for him to enter blindly so she could surprise him, Reynaldo would see it.