'What are you doing?' Lena asked, but she knew well enough when the man unrolled the bag and took out a filled syringe.
Charlotte knew what was coming before Lena did. She panicked, tucking her arms behind her back, struggling to protect herself as the thug tapped the side of the syringe, squirted some liquid out of the needle. She started to flail desperately when he grabbed her arm, then suddenly it seemed to Lena that something inside of the other woman just snapped. She simply gave up, holding out her arm, waiting for the needle to go in.
'No…' Lena said, but it was too late. The plunger was pressed. Charlotte closed her eyes, a soft sound like a sigh coming from her throat.
The man in the mask nestled the gun against Charlotte 's cheek. 'She likes that, don't you think?'
Lena felt tears stream down her face. How many kids did Charlotte have? She had seen one of them in the library the other day, a young girl, probably not even thirteen.
'Please,' Lena said. 'Just let her go.'
'Why don't you drive some more?' the man suggested. He nodded to his lackey and the door was slammed shut.
Lena put the car in gear and pressed her foot to the gas. She drove aimlessly, following the circle she'd made before, the Celica close behind.
Charlotte gave a deep moan. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped against the door.
Lena demanded, 'What did you give her?'
'Something to take the edge off.'
'I don't understand,' Lena said. She was crying in earnest now. 'Why is this happening? What did Charlotte ever do to you?'
'Want me to tell you a little story, Lee?'
He used her familiar name, the one reserved for close friends and family. Lena turned the rearview mirror away from Charlotte and onto her abductor.
She could see his white teeth through the hole in the mask. 'You figuring it out, baby doll?'
She concentrated on his voice, desperately trying to place it. There was hardly any accent, and the tone was deep, almost as deep as Jeffrey's. Lena ran through her childhood, trying to think of the men she had known. Hank did not have friends. When he was using, he ended up screwing them or pushing them away. When he stopped using, he'd lacked the skills to make connections. There were people he knew from AA meetings and Deacon Simms, but that was it. He spent his nights at home or at the bar.
The man told her, 'You know, when I saw you at Hank's place the other day, I thought, "Now there's a good lookin' woman." '
Had he been in the Escalade outside of Hank's house? The SUV's windows were tinted. Lena had been so focused on the man with the swastika that she hadn't bothered to look for a passenger.
'You look a lot like your mama when she was your age. Did you know that?'
'I didn't even know my mother lived to be my age.'
'Oh, yeah, Angie lived a lot longer than she should have.'
Hank had said that the man. outside was the one who'd killed Angela Adams. Had he meant this man, the one who now held a gun to Charlotte Warren's head?
Lena asked, 'Did you kill my mother?' She turned around. 'Hank said that you killed her.'
He laughed. 'Hank says a lot of things. Not like he's gonna make it much longer doped up like he is. Tell me, honey, do you like to bet? Maybe you want to make a little wager on how long it takes for him to die?' His laughter was a dry-sounding noise devoid of any humor. 'Frankly, I'd be surprised if he was still breathing after that shit Clint gave him today.'
Clint, Lena thought. Now she knew the thug's name.
'Let me tell you about your mama,' the man in the mask said. 'Do you wanna know about your mama?'
'Yes.'
'Well…' He pretended to think back. 'Like I said, you're just like her. Same pretty hair, beautiful eyes. Her mouth was some kind of wonderful. I won't go into details seeing as you're her baby girl, but let's just say she could suck the leather off a baseball and swallow it whole.' He cackled. 'Angie wasn't always like that, of course. Tight as a damn drum in high school. Real religious, just like her mother. Would've taken a crowbar just to get her open. Up here.'
'What?'
'Turn up here,' he said, pointing to the grass beside the school.
'There's no road.'
I keep forgetting you're a cop,' he said. 'Come on, now, just turn onto the grass. Nobody's gonna arrest you.'
Lena held on to the wheel as the tires dipped into the shoulder off the road. Some of the water in the cup beside her splashed onto her leg as she steered the car to even terrain.
'Keep going.' He indicated that she should drive through the open gates to the football field.
Lena drove as slowly as she could without stalling the car. In the mirror, she could see the Celica pull into one of the spaces in the senior parking lot. Was this the plan, then? To kill Lena and Charlotte outside the school? She didn't understand why he was still talking if all he wanted to do was kill them.
'Little bit more,' the man said. 'Through the gates and onto the football field.' He leaned forward, his hand brushing Lena 's arm. 'Give me that cup, will you? All this talking is making me thirsty.'
She put her foot on the brake and did as he asked, careful not to let her hand touch his. As the cup passed between them, she got a whiff of the contents. It definitely wasn't water, but she could not place the odor. The cup felt heavier than it should've been.
'Thank you.' He sat back in the seat, holding the cup at chest level. 'You look like you've got a question for me.'
She cut to the heart of the matter. 'How did you know my mother?'
'She was just like Charlotte here,' he answered. 'Give them a little taste and they'll do whatever you ask.'
'Taste of what?' Lena asked. 'Drugs?' She looked back at Charlotte. The woman was slumped and silent, her lips slightly curled up as if she was hearing a different conversation. Had she lied about just being an alcoholic? Was she an addict, too?
'Stop on the fifty yard line,' the man told her.
Lena put the car in park but left the engine running. Ahead of her, she could see Clint making his way onto the field. He strained from what looked like a heavy bucket he carried in his hand, his body listing to the side. Instead of coming to the car, he put the bucket down on the sidelines then stood there, as if waiting to be called over.
In the rearview mirror, Lena watched the masked man tuck his gun into the waistband of his jeans. He held the cup in his right hand and kept his left wrapped around the back of Charlotte 's neck.
Lena could run now. She could bolt from the car. Clint was fat and out of shape. Lena could run through the woods on the side of the stadium and get lost in the darkness. She could pound on someone's door until they opened up and demand to use the phone.
'You gonna leave?' the man asked, as if he could read her mind. 'Or do you want to stay put and hear what I have to say?'
Her hand had been on the door, fingers wrapped around the handle. She let it drop and turned to face him. 'Tell me,' she demanded.
'If I had wanted to kill you,' he began, 'you would already be dead. You know that.'
'Yes.'
'Your friend here, now she's been a pretty good girl all these years, but when it's time, it's time.'
'Don't hurt her,' Lena pleaded. 'She's got children. Her husband-'
'Yeah, it's sad. But you make your choices.'
'You call that a choice?' Lena snarled. 'Having some asshole Nazi stick a needle in your arm is a choice?'
He was smiling again. 'You sound so much like her, Lee. That same sharp tongue and quick temper. Now, Sibyl, she was more like… well, I guess you know who your sister was like. Real quiet, always caught up in her thoughts. Hell if I know where she got her brains, though. You could've knocked me over with a feather when I heard she'd gotten a full scholarship to Georgia Tech.'