The Mirror and the Mask (32 page)

“I don't see why we have to wait until dark,” he said. “I need to get home. I promised the wife I'd take her bowling tonight.”

“Well, now, that was pretty stupid, wasn't it.”

He grunted. “Think she's awake in there?”

“Probably.”

“You gonna give her another dose before we do it?”

“It'll be easier.”

“For us.”

“For her, too.”

The hunter's arms disappeared. A beer can cracked open.

“Pretty up here,” said the hunter. This time, he leaned his back against the rail.

“That's your last one, Claud. Until we're done.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Did you take the extra chains and the weights out to the icehouse yet?”

“Nope.”

“Do it now.”

“Aw, jeez. We got enough stuff out there to sink a battleship.”

“We can't be too careful. Put everything in the ice chest and drag it out. Be sure to bring the chest back.”

Claud tossed his cigarette into the snow. “Can we order a pizza or something? I'm starving.”

In response, Jane heard the back door slam. She pressed herself tighter against the wall as Claud trotted down the steps at the end of the deck and sprinted toward the garage. As soon as he opened the side door and disappeared inside, she ran back to the clump of junipers. She checked her watch, calculated that it had been at least fifteen minutes since Cordelia and Sunny had left for town. With any luck at all, they'd be back soon with help.

Hunkering down, Jane waited until Claud dragged the chest past her down the shoveled walk. Her feet were like blocks of ice, but blocks of ice that stung. Darting to another group of shrubs, she zigzagged her way from tree to tree, back toward the woods.
She was just about to charge across the road when she heard Claud call, “Hey? You there. What the hell are you doing?”

“Moi?” came Cordelia's surprised voice.

“Shit,” whispered Jane. She swiveled around and saw that Cordelia was standing by one of the first-floor windows, hands in the air. Why hadn't she stayed in the car?

“Just consider me your local Peeping Tom,” she tittered. “Nothing to worry about. And heavens, put that gun away.”

“Come down from there.”

Jane crept back to the junipers, glad that the landscaping provided so much cover. Peering through the branches, she saw that Cordelia was slipping and sliding her way down from the window.

“I'm just a neighbor,” she said, lifting up her red and black plaid hunter's cap. “I was walking by and . . . well, you know how it is. You watch a place being built and you get awfully interested in what it looks like inside.”

“What'd you see in there?”

“Just a lot of furniture. Very nice, expensive furniture, I might add. Tasteful. No Swedish modern. I hate Swedish modern, don't you?”

He held the gun with both hands. “I think we better talk to Jack. See what he says to do with you.”

“Jack?” She tittered again. “We don't have to tell Jack, do we? He sounds mean.”

He drew the slide back and let it snap forward. “Turn around and walk up the deck steps.”

“Oh, my. I believe I feel faint.”

Jane didn't have time to think. She charged straight for the guy, knocking him into the snow and sending the gun flying.

“What the hell?” he grunted, flipping over, grabbing her by the coat so she couldn't get away. They wrestled in the snow for a few bruising seconds, until he leveraged himself up and pulled Jane's arm behind her back.

Out of the corner of her eye Jane saw Cordelia digging through the snow, looking for the gun.

“There's a bullet in the chamber,” she said, spitting out pine needles.

“I know that,” said Cordelia, picking up the gun and whirling around. “I used to date a cop.”

Claud shoved his hands in the air. “Lady, point that thing at anything other than me.”

“You okay?” asked Cordelia, flicking her eyes to Jane.

Jack stepped out on the deck with the shotgun. “Toss the pistol in the snow,” he ordered.

Cordelia's back was to him. She locked eyes with Jane.

“Do it,” Jane said.

“Pick it up, Claud. Then bring them inside.”

They all marched up the steps to the front deck, with Jane leading the parade. The French doors stood wide open.

“Explain?” Jack said to Claud when they'd all come inside.

“I don't know what the hell's going on, just that Paris Hilton and her fat friend got the drop on me.”

“Jane's not fat,” said Cordelia.

“Cordelia Thorn?” repeated Jack, looking at her for the first time.

“The very same.”

“This is absolute bullshit!” he roared. “What the hell do you think you're doing, showing up here like this?”

“Trying to prevent another murder,” said Jane.

“It's not such a big problem,” said Claud. He moved around in front of them. “We were gonna dump one body down that hole. Two more won't make much more work. Course, we may have to enlarge it a little.” He eyed Cordelia, making mental calculations.

“Tie them up,” said Jack.

“Have you lost your mind?” demanded Cordelia. She sidestepped Claud and moved directly in front of Jack. “You might be able to get
away with killing Jane and Annie, but not me. I'm famous. I am Cordelia M. Thorn. You would be hounded by the police until the day you died. You'd be signing your own death warrant, to quote an overused and deeply overwrought cliché.”

“Shut up,” said Jack. “All of you, just shut the fuck up. I need to think.” He began to pace.

“The county sheriff will be here any second,” said Cordelia.

Jane inched closer to Annie, glad to see that her eyes were open. “I called them from Malden.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” cried Claud. “I am outta here.”

“You're not going anywhere.” Jack pointed the shotgun at him.

“If you call it off, let us go, we'll leave,” said Jane. “There's nothing to tie you to Annie's kidnapping. As far as I'm concerned, it never happened.”

“Jack, man, use your brain,” pleaded Claud. “That's bullshit. Let's march them out to the icehouse and get it over with. Five minutes, that's all I need. And then we get the hell out. You know the county sheriff never does anything fast. Hell, the head guy's so stupid he can't find his own dick. And who knows, maybe they never called. Come on, man. Let's just stick with the plan.”

One of the French doors opened.

Everyone wheeled toward it.

Sunny walked in.

“Oh, Jesus,” said Jack, nearly buckling at the sight of her. “Honey, what are you doing here?”

“I came with Cordelia and Jane. They told me you kidnapped Annie, that you were going to hurt her. I said you wouldn't. I'm right, aren't I?”

“Sunny, sweetheart, you shouldn't be here.”

The sound of sirens drew everyone's attention to the side windows. Two police cruisers with lights strobing thundered down the gravel road and skidded to a stop next to the cabin.

“We are so fucked,” shrieked Claud.

“I need to talk to you,” said Sunny, her eyes pleading with Jack. “Alone.”

“Honey, not now.” He rushed from window to window to get a better look at what the cops were up to.

“It can't wait,” said Sunny. “It's important.”

“Four of them,” said Jack.

“I'm gone,” shouted Claud. He rushed to the French doors, yanked one back, and ran outside, leaping over the deck rail.

Jack pointed the shotgun at Cordelia, jacked a shell into the chamber. “Close the door and lock it.”

“I will not.”

“Do it!” he screamed. His face flushed red.

She backed up and did what he asked.

“Now, go over to the window by the fireplace and open it. Tell them I've got four hostages in here. They make a move on the cabin and you're all dead. Tell them!”

Cordelia relayed the message in her most stentorian voice.

“What are you going to do?” asked Jane.

Jack ran a hand across his mouth, rubbed the back of his neck. “I don't know.”

“You've
got
to talk to me,” said Sunny, moving toward him.

“No. Stay there.” His eyes darted, focused for a second on each person. Sweat dotted his upper lip.

From outside came a man's voice amplified by a bullhorn. “Let the people go, Mr. Bowman. We've got the place surrounded. There's no way out.”

Jack looked over at Jane. “Cut Annie free.” He tossed her a pocket knife.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Jane moved over to the couch. In a matter of seconds, the tape around Annie's hands and feet was severed.

Jack ordered Cordelia to give the police another ultimatum. “Tell them I'm leaving. I'm getting in my car and driving off. Nobody is going to stop me because I'm coming out with a hostage. They try anything—anything at all—and her death will be on their hands.”

“Get over here,” he directed Annie. “We're going to take a little ride together.”

“Take me,” said Jane, straightening up to face him. “You've done enough damage to her.”

He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Christ, why should I give a shit. Get over here.”

Annie grabbed her arm, but Jane shook it off. She walked toward him. He hooked his arm around her neck and yanked her back against him, pressed the barrel of the gun to her head.

Cordelia shouted his message out the window.

“Jack, this is insane,” said Sunny. “This isn't you.”

“You don't have a clue who I am.”

“That's not true. Listen to me, okay? The cops aren't going to rush the place, not with four hostages inside. Come on. Give me one freakin' minute. That's all I ask.”

Jane felt the arm around her neck loosen. A second later, Jack shoved her away. “Go sit down. All of you, sit down and keep your mouths shut.”

Outside, another cop's voice came over the bullhorn. “Mr. Bowman. This is Clyde Ewalt. You know me. You know I'm a fair man. Let me come in and talk to you. I know we can work this out.”

“Tell him no,” said Jack, motioning Cordelia back to the window.

“He says no,” shouted Cordelia.

“Only a minute,” Jack said to Sunny, sitting down at the island in the kitchen. He kept the gun pressed to his hip, his hand on the trigger.

Jane sat next to Annie. “You okay?” she whispered, carefully monitoring Sunny and Jack's conversation.

“I'm . . . numb.”

Jane pulled her close. “It's almost over,” she whispered. “We'll get out of this.”

“I'm glad you came,” Annie whispered back, “although I wish you hadn't. This is my battle, not yours.”

Jane looked up, hearing Sunny and Jack begin to argue. They kept their voices so low that she couldn't make out what they were saying, just that it was intense. Several minutes went by. Then several more. Sunny was crying now. Jack's face had lost some of its color.

“I can't lose both of you,” cried Sunny.

The cops were on the bullhorn again. “Mr. Bowman. Ewalt here. Can we get you anything? Something to eat? I understand you don't have a landline. We'd like to bring you a two-way radio so we can talk to you. What do you say?”

Jack got up up from the stool. His eyes roamed the room, coming to rest on Annie. Placing the shotgun on the granite countertop, he said, “Tell the cops that they can come in.”

“Me?” said Cordelia.

“Yes, you.”

Sunny leaned against him, as if she was too unsteady to stand without help.

Jack kissed her, whispered something in her ear.

Cordelia rushed over to the window and delivered the message.

“Unlock the French doors,” said Jack.

When the two officers walked in, guns drawn, he held his hands in the air. “I did it. I brought Annie here against her will. I'm also responsible for my wife's death.”

Jane and Cordelia fired each other shocked looks.

“You'll want to contact the Stillwater PD,” continued Jack, his voice a monotone. “They've been working the homicide investigation. I'll give you—or them—a complete statement.”

Jack had just admitted to a murder he hadn't committed. The only logical reason he'd do that was to protect Sunny. He was offering the
police himself instead of her. Everything Jane knew about him argued against him making that kind of a move, and yet she'd witnessed him say the words.

“You have a right to a lawyer,” said the older of the two deputies, cuffing him and then maneuvering him through the room to the front doors.

“No lawyers,” said Jack, lowering his eyes. “I just want to get this over with.”

 

 

 

J
ane and Annie stood in the dark foyer of Jane's house as Mouse and Dooley scrambled down the stairs. The police interrogation was over; so was the long drive home. Annie crouched all the way down and let Dooley jump into her arms.