Gone (14 page)

Joe put his hand on Marcie’s arm, but she shrugged it off. “My child, Howard. I want to hear my child talk. Otherwise you go ahead and shoot. I’ll be burning money.”

“All right, all right. Hang on,” Howard said, then cut off his mic for another few moments. “I can’t let him talk to you. He’s tied up and got duct tape on his mouth.”

“Take it off!”

“Nope.” The static stopped.

Marcie frowned at her walkie-talkie. “What’s he—?”

Then amidst static, Howard said, “Nope. I can’t—I can’t watch him and you at the same time.”

“Do it now! Take that tape off his mouth now. He’s probably scared to death!”

As Joe listened to the two of them he came to a stunning realization. It surprised him that he hadn’t thought about it before. Howard didn’t have Joshua. He’d driven to the house in his pickup, maybe with a rifle, maybe not. But he’d come here expecting Marcie to be waiting in the middle of the road with a sack of money. He’d tell her to leave the money in the middle of the road and go back to the house. She’d demand to see her child, but Howard would tell her that the only way she’d get Joshua back was to obey him. Then, when she’d done what he’d told her to, he’d pick up the money and speed away, back to Rhoda and Joshua, and the three of them would be miles and miles from Louisiana by nightfall. Joe nodded to himself in satisfaction. Knowing that Joshua wasn’t in the pickup made his plan a lot easier. He touched Marcie on the arm.

“What?” she asked shortly. “You told me to focus. I’m focused. Don’t interrupt.”

“What you said about the money—that’s really smart. Tell him to bring Joshua up here now or you’ll start lighting bills on fire and dropping them over the rail.”

“Now you want me out there? I thought you didn’t want me to get shot.”

“All you have to do is go to the railing and drop the burning bills over the edge. You’ll be shielded somewhat by the corner of the house.”

Marcie gazed at him with narrowed eyes. “Okay. I’ll try it. All we’re doing now is arguing back and forth.” She pressed the talk button. “Howard, bring Joshua up here right now. I’ve got your money, but I’m not coming down there. I don’t trust you for one second.”

“I’ll shoot the stilts and that house’ll fall flat with you in it. I’m telling you for the last time. Get down here with that money!”

“Oh, I’ll send your money down,” she said mockingly. “One bill at a time. Watch for it. You can’t miss it.” She let go of the talk button and set the walkie-talkie down.

“Take the walkie-talkie with you,” Joe said.

“I’m going to need both hands to light the bills on fire and throw them over the rail. I’ll just yell at him.”

“You’ve got to stay in the shadow of the house, as close to the door as you can.”

She picked up a stack of hundreds from the bag, tore the wrapper off, then peeled off about a dozen. “Have you seen any matches?” she asked.

Joe searched for a moment. “Here’s a candle lighter in the drawer, if it works.” He clicked it and a small yellow flame sprang up from its tip.

“Drawer?” Marcie said. “There’s a drawer?”

Joe nodded. “Two of them. They’re pretty shallow, though.”

“I didn’t see them,” she said, reaching for the lighter, but Joe held on to it.

“Marcie, remember. Stay close to the door. If you see him raise his rifle, duck back inside.”

She nodded and opened the door.

“Wait!” Joe whispered. “I’m putting the walkie-talkie right here on the floor next to the door.” His pulse began to race as she stepped out onto the stoop. He was dying to look out and see if he could see Howard’s pickup, but he didn’t dare. Everything, even their lives, depended on Howard not knowing he was there.

“Here you go, Howard,” Marcie called. “In case you can’t see them from there, these are hundreds. Benjamins.”

The walkie-talkie crackled. “...burning that money...regret it.” Joe couldn’t hear everything Howard said, but he got the gist of it.

“Where is he?” he asked.

“Still in the truck,” she answered. Then she yelled, “Two hundred at a time, Howard!”

“Be careful,” Joe warned her. “If he opens the door and starts to get out, he could be going for his rifle.”

“I’m watching him,” she said as Howard’s voice interrupted her.

“Okay, okay. You win! I’m bringing the kid up.”

“Now it’s three hundred at a time!” she shouted.

The walkie-talkie crackled again. “Stop it! I’m coming up.”

“Good job,” Joe said. “Now get inside.”

“No, wait. I want to see Joshua.”

“Marcie!”

“I am not moving until I can see my baby.” She heard Joe muttering curses but her attention was on Howard. He got out of the pickup, then opened the rear door and leaned inside. She held her breath as she waited for him to lift her little boy out of the rear seat.

“Joe, he’s doing it. He’s getting Joshua. Look through the window. He won’t be able to see a tiny space in the curtains. Look, Joe.”

The curtains fluttered as Joe parted them slightly. “What do you see?” he asked her.

“Nothing yet. He’s doing something—maybe unhooking the child seat. Wait. He’s straightening up.”

The walkie-talkie crackled with Howard’s yell. “Marcie!”

“I’m here.” She waved.

“Careful,” Joe whispered.

“Get inside,” Howard demanded. “Or I’m not coming up.”

“What?” she called out. “Howard, please. He’s my baby.”

“Because I said so.” Howard’s voice nearly drowned out Joe’s. “Get inside and wait there. I’m coming up the stairs with the kid, but I swear I’ll drop him right back down them. Now get in there and stay there. You got me?”

“What’s he doing?” she asked Joe.

“I don’t know,” Joe said. “Maybe he’s afraid you have a weapon.”

She clicked the talk button. “Okay, okay. But you’d better not hurt my baby.”

When Marcie closed the door, Joe was still at the window, watching Howard. “He’s pulling something out of the backseat,” he said.

She went over to the window. Joe held out his arm and made room for her to stand in front of him. That way both of them could look out through the same tiny crack in the curtains. “See him?” Joe asked.

“Oh, yes,” Marcie breathed. “Look. He’s got him. Oh, no, he’s got Joshua wrapped in a blanket. Do you think he’s all right? You don’t think he’s sick, do you?”

Joe saw the same thing Marcie did, but he immediately drew a different conclusion. Howard was lifting a bundle into his arms, holding it as if he were holding a sleeping child, but Joe knew better. Howard didn’t have Joshua.

Chapter Thirteen

Joe sighed in frustration and a bit of relief. Howard didn’t have Joshua. He’d been right about the guy. He really did love Rhoda too much to take the child away from her, or maybe she wouldn’t let him. Joe craved a glimpse of his son, but he was glad that he didn’t have to worry about making sure his child was all right while trying to take Howard down.

Whatever Howard’s reason, his plan all along had been to overpower Marcie, then take the money and run. Rhoda was probably waiting with Joshua for Howard to pick them up. The three of them would be out of the state and headed for parts unknown hours before Marcie could find help on this bayou road.

But Howard hadn’t counted on Joe being there. And Joe was counting on that. He intended for this day to end with Howard and Rhoda in custody for kidnapping, and his son back in his wife’s arms.

“Oh,” Marcie said, pressing her hand to her throat. “I feel faint. I’d almost given up ever seeing him again. He’s here, Joe.” Her voice sounded choked. “I had no idea how I would react if I ever got the chance to see my baby again, to hold him, to have him come home with us.” She wrapped her other arm around Joe’s waist and hugged him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my entire life.”

Her lilting tone and happy words ripped through Joe’s heart like a knife through rotten cloth, leaving ugly jagged edges. How was he going to tell her? He was afraid that she’d break down completely, and he needed her to be strong, because without her, Joe’s plan would fail. He swallowed. “Listen to me, hon,” Joe said. “Don’t let your emotions overwhelm you. We’ve still got to overpower Howard and restrain him, remember?”

He felt her head move as she nodded. “I know. I know. And we’ve got to do it without hurting or endangering Joshua. I can do it, Joe. I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he said. “Then we’ve got to get away from the window and get set up.”

“I want to watch for a little while longer. Just until he—”

“Marcie, listen.” Joe took her arm from around his waist and stepped away from her. “We’ve got to be ready. We can’t make even one mistake. If we do, we may lose—everything.” Joe gritted his teeth. He hated what he was doing. He was in effect lying to her. He had to pretend that he believed it was Joshua in that bundle. Otherwise Marcie would know something was wrong. If he slipped up and gave her any hint that Howard didn’t have Joshua, at best he could ruin everything. At worst, he could get them both hurt or killed.

She stepped away from the window and squared her shoulders. “Okay. You want me here, right beside the door?”

“Yes. There. When he pushes or kicks the door open, you’ll be arm’s length from him. I’ll be behind the door.” He gestured vaguely in that direction. He hadn’t told her much about what he was planning to do. “Now, do you have the spray?”

She nodded. “What are you going to use as a weapon?” she asked.

“Shh.” He held his finger to his mouth as heavy footsteps sounded on the pier. Howard was almost here, and just in time to save Joe from answering. He’d inventoried and assessed everything he could find in the house, everything in Marcie’s purse and everything in their car. Marcie would use her pepper spray to initially disable Howard, but stinging eyes was not enough of a deterrent. He needed something that would render Howard unconscious or at least incapable of fighting back.

The weapon he’d settled on was unconventional at best, but it was probably the one that could do the most damage in the shortest amount of time, and last long enough for Joe to tie him up. But he couldn’t allow Marcie to even catch a glimpse of what he’d chosen. She wouldn’t let him within a hundred yards of Joshua if she knew what he was planning to use.

Marcie stood right next to the closed door, the can of pepper spray at the ready in her right hand and several bungee cords tucked into the waistband of her jeans. She was so nervous that her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and she had to clamp her jaw to stop her teeth from chattering. She was dying to see what Joe was doing, but he had insisted on keeping the curtains closed, which put them in near total darkness. He wanted to catch Howard off guard when he stepped into the dark house. Also, Joe had commanded her not to take her eyes off the door.

“You’ve got to focus on nothing but making sure the pepper spray goes directly into his eyes,” he told her. “He’s probably going to be talking, maybe even threatening you. But you can’t listen to him, because if you miss, then it won’t matter what I’ve planned to do, because if he’s not hurting and if he doesn’t let go of the blanket, I can’t take him down. It won’t matter that he doesn’t know I’m here. At full strength, he’s a lot stronger than me.”

She could hear the rustling of his clothing and an occasional metallic click as he worked on whatever he was doing. Then the generator kicked on and drowned out his quiet movements.

At that moment, Howard’s boots clomped up the stairs to the house. Marcie thought his footsteps sounded unusually heavy, even for a man of his size. Her heart leapt. That had to be because he was carrying Joshua. She heard him grunt with effort as he reached the top step and set his boot onto the stoop. The floor shuddered. Marcie swallowed, drew in a fortifying breath and raised the can of spray. She placed her finger on the nozzle and concentrated on the door.

With a grunt louder than his first one, Howard kicked the door with his boot. The noise echoed off the walls. Marcie tensed.

“I’m coming in, Marcie,” he said loudly. “I’ve got the kid. You stand away from the door. Try anything and I’ll turn around and throw him over the rail. Got that? I’ll throw. Him. Over.”

“Yes,” she said, not having to fake the quaver in her voice. She gritted her teeth and tried not to think about Joshua or about what Joe was doing. She had to concentrate. She only had one chance to do this right.

She watched the doorknob as Howard turned it and the door began to ease open. As the door swung open, Marcie’s heart screamed at her to look at the bundle in his arms. Just one glimpse wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Focus.
She fought her mother’s instinct to care for her child and it was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do in her life.

Focus!
Her entire world seemed to be moving in slow motion, including her own movements. Raising her arm, she fixed her gaze on his head, which was turning in her direction. When she saw the side of his face as he turned his head toward her, she pressed the nozzle, aiming it directly at his eyes. The sound of the aerosol was muffled by Howard’s agonized roar. He threw up an arm to ward off the spray and when he did the bundle dropped to the floor. Then he lunged at her. She dove beneath his arm toward the bundle, screaming, “Joshua!” over and over. Somewhere along the way she dropped the spray can.

Joe timed his movement to the sound of the aerosol spray. He propelled himself at Howard at the same instant that Howard lunged at Marcie. Joe had no idea how much—if any—spray had gone into Howard’s eyes. But some had, judging by the man’s bellows.

Clutching the fiery hot space heater by the handle on the top, he held it in front of him like a shield as he propelled himself forward. He’d cushioned the uninsulated back with a torn piece of the ratty blanket, but as he landed on top of the bigger man with the heater between them, the metal seared his hands and chest.

Howard screamed like a woman as Joe growled out loud and pressed the coils into the back of Howard’s head with all the strength he had. He knew he had only a split second to inflict as much damage as possible, and he’d underestimated the pain of the burning metal against his own skin, even through the blanket. But the longer he could hold on, the better chance he’d have of disabling Howard. The smell of burning hair filled the air as Howard flailed and bucked. Joe bore down on him with all his might. He felt a tug against his hands, as the electrical cord stretched to its limit. Then the tug suddenly relaxed and he knew the heater had come unplugged.

“Marcie!” he yelled. “Bungee cords—now!
Come on, Marcie!
” He registered her sobs in the part of his brain that was always aware of her, so he knew she’d found out that the bundle of blankets was not her child.

Joe felt himself being drawn to her, but he tamped down that urge with all his will. If he let her grief and shock distract him, he might lose this fight. He’d known she’d be upset. He’d planned around it, but damn it he needed those cords. Grimacing with pain and effort, he leaned every bit of his weight on the still blazing hot heater.

“Marcie!” he yelled again as Howard tried to buck him off. He had to get ready to tie up Howard. He only hoped Howard was hurting enough that he wouldn’t be able to throw him off. Joe rose up, still pressing the coils against Howard’s cheek, and grabbed the man’s left hand. With an effort, he swung his left knee forward and pinned the hand. Then he finally let go of the heater and drew his right knee forward to pin Howard’s right hand. The heater tumbled onto the floor.

Howard lifted his head, roaring like a wounded lion. His neck and the side of his face bore a red-and-black pattern of the exposed heater coils. It was an ugly sight. Joe swallowed hard and looked at the man’s hands. He took a breath to yell for Marcie one last time, but, miraculously, she was there with the cords.

Resisting the urge to double his fist and coldcock Howard on the side of the head, Joe instead grabbed a bungee cord and slipped one end like a lasso over Howard’s left wrist. Then, with a twist, he yanked Howard’s right wrist up and wrapped the elastic cord back and forth around both wrists. As he worked, heaving with the effort and doing his best to ignore the pain in his burned hands, Howard’s hefty body gave up the fight and collapsed. He lay limp. His roar deflated into a low moaning. His entire torso trembled. Probably shock from the pain. After a few seconds of struggle, Joe finally managed to hook the bungee cord tightly onto itself.

Only then did he dare to get off the man and stand up. His head spun dizzily and he had trouble catching his breath. For a few seconds he bent at the waist and propped his hands on his knees like a basketball player, easing the pressure on his lungs.

“Marcie, can you...wrap his ankles?” he gasped. “If he kicks, stop. I’ll...get it.”

He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been. Or how focused. But obviously his body had pumped massive quantities of adrenaline to his muscles and nerves, because now that he’d stopped, his limbs tingled and trembled with the aftereffects. It took a few seconds for him to be able to breathe normally.

When he finally straightened, his palms felt lit on fire. He turned them up and saw that they were bright red and he could see blisters beginning to form. That was going to be a problem very soon, so he needed to make sure Howard was sufficiently trussed now.

Howard was still moaning when Joe checked Marcie’s work with the bungee cord on Howard’s ankles. She’d done a good job. He felt the tension in both cords and adjusted Marcie’s a little and his own a lot. He’d wound the elastic way too tight in his haste to put Howard out of commission.

As soon as he was sure the cords were tight enough to keep Howard from getting loose, but not so tight that they cut off his circulation, he turned to Marcie.

Behind him, Howard was beginning to stir. “You burned me,” he muttered. “I’ll sue.”

Marcie was crouched on the floor, holding two more bungee cords. When she raised her gaze to his, her face looked haunted and her normally lovely, sparkly eyes were dull.

“He didn’t bring Joshua,” she said flatly. “But you knew that he wouldn’t, didn’t you? It was your plan all along, wasn’t it? You knew he didn’t have my baby.”

Joe held out a hand to help her to her feet, but she ignored it and rose on her own. She tossed the cords onto the floor and stood there, staring at Howard, who had quit struggling so much, but was still moaning and muttering an occasional curse, presumably aimed at them. “You wouldn’t have used the heater if you’d thought he’d be holding Joshua.”

“Marcie, hon, come here.”

She ignored that, too.

“I’m sure Joshua is with Rhoda,” he said. “Howard wanted the money. But Rhoda loves Joshua. You know that. You said it yourself. So she wasn’t about to risk Howard doing something to him, either accidentally or on purpose.”

She nodded, then looked up at him. “She’s going to run,” she said. “I’ll never see my baby again.”

Joe held out his arms, but Marcie shrank away from him and wrapped her arms around herself. “Hon,” he said. “We don’t know that she’s running. She and Joshua are probably back at her house.”

But Marcie was shaking her head. “No. No. No. She wouldn’t sit there and wait for the police. I don’t even think she’d wait for Howard. If he did this once he’d do it again. She’s taken my baby and run—some place where we’ll never find them.”

“You can’t know that,” he protested.

Marcie straightened and fixed him with a gaze. “Oh, yes, I can.”

“But how? Why are you so sure?” he asked, bewildered.

“Because it’s what I would do.”

Joe stared at Marcie. Of course. As soon as she’d said those words—words only a mother could say with confidence—he knew that was what was happening. If Rhoda hadn’t already taken Joshua and left, she was probably preparing to go right now.

Joe stalked over to where Howard was lying on his stomach, with his hands tied behind his back. He was moaning and cursing. Joe nudged him in the side with the toe of his shoe.

“Ahh, you son of a bitch, you burned me. Need a doctor,” Howard gasped.

“Where’s Rhoda?” he asked him.

“Go to hell,” Howard muttered.

“Where is she, Howard? I can burn the other side of your face, you know.”

“Went back to the house.”

Joe turned back to Marcie. “Come on, Marcie. Let’s go. We need to get to Rhoda’s house. She’s probably waiting there for Howard to pick them up. We need to get there before she decides Howard isn’t coming and takes off on her own.”

“But the car’s stuck.” Then, for the first time since Howard came into the house, Marcie perked up. She went to the door and looked outside. “Howard’s truck! We can take his truck and then if Rhoda does see us, she’ll think it’s Howard.”