The door clanged open. He stepped inside. Smiling now, he ignored her verbal jabs as he approached. Two feet away from her, he stopped and stared. And then, without warning, he lunged, baring his teeth and curling his hands into claws as he came at her.
She’d expected as much and jumped to the side.
He jerked to the right. She moved to the left.
He went left. She went right.
His eyes were bright. It took her a second to realize he was in his element, toying with her, having fun. The second he stepped close enough, she jumped forward and jabbed the prongs into his chest. She held tight, giving him a good long jolt.
He cried out as he fell to the ground, his arms and legs flailing.
She had no choice but to hop over him, and when she did he grabbed hold of her ankle and yanked her to the ground. The Taser flew from her hands, breaking into pieces.
He was laughing, his body no longer twitching. How could that be?
She kicked and screamed, then reached around for his face and jammed her thumb into his eye.
He cursed and let go.
She jumped to her feet and scrambled through the cell door. She got as far as the bottom step before he grabbed her leg and she fell. Her chin hit the stair, sending a searing pain through her skull.
“Nice try,” he said as he dragged her back to the cell. “You obviously know nothing about me. Because if you did, you would know I used to dream of being a Boy Scout someday. The Boy Scouts of America is one of the largest scouting organizations in the US. Be prepared!” He laughed. “Always be in a state of readiness in mind and body to do your duty!”
Once they were inside the cell again, he released his hold on one of her legs so he could lift his shirt and reveal another layer of fabric.
“It’s polyester,” he said. “A special fabric neutralizes any stun-gun jolt. Works every time. Prisoner has my Taser and thinks he has the upper hand.” He laughed as if that was the funniest thing ever.
Her heart raced. He was insane. She realized that this might be her last chance to get free. Before he reached for her leg again, she drew it back and slammed her foot into his shin.
He cried out and stumbled backward, but he wasn’t kidding when he’d said he was prepared. Before she could get past him, he pulled a small canister from his waistband and sprayed her in the face.
Her eyes burned. The pain was intense.
He pushed her to the ground.
Get out of here, she told herself. Get out now! On hands and knees, she scurried back to where she’d left her pile of makeshift weapons. The granola wrapper crunched beneath her fingers.
Again his long, cold fingers grasped her ankles before he dragged her from the cell.
No. No. No! She reached out blindly in front of her, arms stretching, fingers searching. The pen. Where was the pen? Her hand passed over the coins.
“It’s time for you to take a time-out in the box.”
NINE
Jessie’s first stop after leaving Olivia home with the dog was her dad’s house in East Sacramento off Riverside Boulevard. It was the house where she and Sophie had been raised. With its unstable foundation, cracked walkways, and neglected grounds, she was surprised the property had been accepted as a pledge toward bail. She knocked on the door, three hard raps.
Her dad used to be a carpenter, but after he’d started drinking, he couldn’t be trusted to show up on time. Now he worked as a handyman. Ethan Cole’s Handyman Services. She was about to get her hopes up when she heard lumbering footfalls approaching from inside.
The door came open.
“Hi, Dad.”
He tightened the sash on his robe. Although his thick salt-and-pepper hair was all over the place and he needed a shave, for a fifty-nine-year-old drunk, he was in pretty good shape. Clearly he wasn’t expecting visitors.
“Can I come inside?”
“Yeah, um, sure, of course.”
She stepped past him, walked down the hallway and into the family room. Empty beer cans littered the coffee table, and clear plastic cups used as ashtrays were filled to the brim. When she opened a window to air the place out, she saw the old swing set out back, where she and her sister used to play when they were little girls. It was rusty now and had one broken swing that dangled from a chain.
She went to the kitchen next and dug through drawers and cabinets until she found a garbage bag. As she walked around the family room, tossing empty cans and plastic cups into the bag, she held up an empty can of beer and said, “Looks like you’ve been busy.”
“Did you come here to lecture me?”
“No. I guess not.” She set the can back on the table and the bag on the floor next to her feet. He might have his own handyman business, but he didn’t look very handy at the moment. “Don’t you work anymore?”
“I don’t appreciate your tone.”
She anchored her hair behind her ears. He was right. She hadn’t come all this way to make him feel like shit. “You shouldn’t have pledged your property, Dad. This house is all you’ve got.”
“I’ve got you and Olivia.”
“Not if you continue to drink yourself into an early grave.”
“A few beers are all I had.”
“Give me a break, Dad. It smells like Bourbon Street in here. There’s an empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the TV stand. Never mind that it’s noon and you look as if you just dragged yourself out of bed.”
“Why do you do this to me?”
“What am I doing to you, Dad?”
“I try to do something good, and you come over here pointing accusing fingers at me. I had a few friends over last night. That’s all.”
All he did was lie. “I never should have come.”
“Why did you?” he asked as he followed her to the door.
“To say thank you. It was a dumb idea.”
“This is all your mother’s fault, you know. She always wanted to turn you girls against me, and she did exactly that when she left us all here to rot.”
“Jesus, Dad.” Jessie turned toward him before opening the door. “Mom left a zillion years ago. Get over it. Thousands of men have been fucked over by their wives and vice versa. That’s life, Dad. When are you going to get that? You,” she said with an admonishing finger, “are the only one who can choose to change your life for the better. Friends and family have offered you help. I have offered you help, but for whatever reason, you just want to sit in your stupid recliner, guzzle booze, and sulk. I refuse to watch you continue to ruin your life because one selfish woman decided to up and leave.”
His eyes watered, but she felt no sympathy. She’d seen it before. “You’ve already wasted too many years. It’s time for you to realize you deserve better and then make some changes.” She opened the door and stepped outside.
“How did you do it?” he asked.
She looked at him. “Do what?”
“How did you stop thinking about her?”
She knew he meant Mom. “It was easy. Two months after she left, I read about a plane crash that killed everyone on the flight. I told myself she was on that plane. I even picked out which seat she’d been sitting in when it went down.”
Jessie didn’t wait for a response. She just walked off. No goodbye. No hug. No friendly wave. Just like always.
It was after one o’clock when Jessie arrived at the bank dripping with sweat. She should have taken her car instead of hopping on her bike.
Adelind Rain, the woman who had hired her to follow Parker Koontz, was a bank teller. The moment Jessie walked through the door, Adelind saw her and gestured for her to have a seat. Fifteen minutes later, Adelind approached and asked her if it was okay if they talked outside. The young woman was taller than Jessie remembered. Her light-colored hair was pinned back in a sleek and fashionable topknot. Everything about her was striking.
Jessie followed her out the double doors and to the right, where a couple of benches had been placed for workers to take a break. Traffic was thick this time of day. Across the street were apartment buildings, a coffee shop, and a Mexican restaurant. Another bank employee stubbed out a cigarette in the dirt circling a tree and headed back inside.
“I only have a few minutes,” Adelind told her. “What’s going on?” She looked around worriedly. “Is he here?”
“I take it you haven’t seen the news.”