"Some emergency. Had to go home."
And I thought, What if that was her who phoned when I was hiding out in the construction site? And when a strange voice answered - Greenway's - and said I was unavailable? What would she have thought? Especially when she was unable to raise me, or the kids, at home?
Shit.
"Thanks," I said, and then, as soon as I'd ended the call, I realized the gravity of what Sarah's colleague had just said to me. Sarah had gone home. To the one place where I'd felt, all night, it was unsafe to return.
I started to key in our home number when the phone rang shrilly. I nearly dropped it. I pressed the green button and put the phone to my ear.
"Hello?"
"Zack?" Sarah.
"Yes, yes, it's me!"
"Didn't you get any of my messages? God, I've been trying to get you all night."
"I just got my phone back and hadn't had a second to check them yet. I'm so sorry, it's been quite a night."
"I phoned you, and this other man answered, and I tried to call back, and I called home, and you haven't been here, I couldn't get the kids. So I left work and -"
"Sarah."
"- I've never been so worried in my entire life, especially when -"
"Sarah."
"- only a few blocks from here, they found this woman with her head smashed in, I think I told you about that -"
"Sarah."
"- drove home as fast as I could and -"
"Sarah!"
"What?"
I tried to stay calm. "Get out of the house."
"What?"
"Just get out of the house. Walk out the door, get in the car, and, and just drive to the doughnut shop. I'll find you there."
"What do you mean, get out of the house?"
"Sarah, I'll explain later, but right now it's important that you -"
"Hang on," she said.
"What?"
"Just hang on. There's someone at the door."
"Sarah, don't answer the -"
And I heard her put the phone down. She must have been using the one in the kitchen, not a cordless, otherwise she would have kept talking as she went to the door.
"Sarah."
Nothing.
"Sarah?"
Still nothing.
"Sarah!"
And then, a minute later, the sound of the receiver being picked up.
"Sarah?"
"Hey," said a voice I recognized. "I'll bet this is Zack."
"Rick," I said.
"Gotcha. Why don't you come home, bring along that ledger I think you got, before I kill your wife."
I was barely two minutes from home, but it was the longest drive of my life. I stomped hard on the gas pedal of the Beetle, screeched around two corners and through two stop signs, and drove right up onto our front lawn, jumping out of the car without turning it off or bothering to close the door. Sarah's Camry was in the drive, blocked in by Rick, who had parked his car behind it.
The front door was locked, so I fumbled in my pocket for my own set of keys, got the right one into the lock after a couple of tries, my hands were shaking so badly, and burst into the house.
"Sarah!"
The house was eerily quiet. I paused, just for a moment, wondering where Rick and Sarah were. Blood pounded in my temples.
"Hey, Zack!" Rick called out casually. "We're in the kitchen!" Like he was saying "Come in for a beer."
I moved through the house slowly, wondering how I should be handling this. The truth was, I had no idea how to handle this. I was already thinking I'd made a terrible mistake, that before I got here I should have dialed 911, or grabbed Earl again, or banged on Trixie's door and gotten the ledger, but I wasn't thinking all that straight. Sarah was in trouble, and all I could think to do was get to her as quickly as possible.
And now I was here, and there she was, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, duct tape wound about her waist several times to secure her. Her hands were bound behind her, and there was more tape around each of her ankles, securing her legs to the chair. Rick stood by the sink, wielding the switchblade I'd seen him use to pick out loose pieces of caulking in our shower.
"Hi, honey," I said weakly.
She looked too frightened to speak. Tears had streaked her mascara, and there were a couple of dark trails leading down across her cheeks. But she managed to say one word, a question.
"Kids?"
I nodded. "They're fine. They went to stay with friends overnight."
"Isn't that keen," said Rick, looking at me. "I used to love sleepovers when I was a kid. This could have been such a great night for the two of you, kids out of the house, chance to get it on, right?"
I said nothing. Rick waved the knife about, swung it into the corner of the countertop, chipping it. He whacked at it again, taking out a chink. He was going to whittle away our kitchen.
"So, Zack, good to finally catch up with you," Rick said. "I feel like I've been running around all night looking for you."
"It's all over," I said. "Your boss Greenway, and Carpington, the police are going to be on to them in no time. Just get out of here and make a run for it. It's not going to take any time for them to figure out you killed Spender, and Stefanie."