Trust Me (17 page)

Rae felt her lips twist into a sneer, as if she was the one feeling repulsed.
It had to be one of the nurses or doctors

making observations,
she thought. It wasn’t Dr. Tugend. She’d gotten his flavor from thecover of the file, and this
was different. Rae turned the page again and ran her fingers over each line as if she were reading Braille. /
idat sk

(/M
/
ca
n
’t
stand to touch
he
r /
belongs in prison/

Rae’s teeth began to chatter as she felt the fear and hatred that had been directed at her mother. Her mother.

This isn’t news,
she told herself.
You’ve always known what she was. You’ve never had the kind of fantasies

about her that Dad does.

But Rae couldn’t stop shaking. She turned to the next page, using her fingernails. She wanted as much
information as possible, but she didn’t have to get slammed with all of the thoughts. More lists of medications.

Notations of blood pressure. Of urine output. Of fluid intake.

Next page. More of the same. Except descriptions of sores-much too extreme to be bedsores, one notation said.

Rae kept reading. It sounded like her mother’s body had been devoured from the inside.

Next page. Rae flicked her eyes down the notations as quickly as possible.
There isn’t going to be anything that

will help you in here,
she thought.
The doctor said they never figured out what was happening to her. That means

you’re not going to find any miracle cure.

But she couldn’t stop flipping the pages, readingsnatches here and there. Descriptions of sores in her mother’s
mouth and nose. Next page. No notations. Nothing about medications or diet or activity level. This page was a
clipping from a newspaper.

She read the headline, and the air went out of her lungs as if two fists had squeezed them flat. She slowly sat
down on the floor and began to read, to read every single word.

With each sentence she got colder. Her heart and stomach felt like lumps of ice, heavy and lifeless. And cold. So
cold.

You knew this is what happened. You knew what she did. Dad told you. This is nothing new.

But it was. Because there were pictures. And details her father never would have wanted her to know.

“Okay, let’s do this,” McGee said as he backed the van into the driveway of the large house they’d been staking
out. “I’ll use the code to get inside, then I’ll open the garage.”

Anthony gave a grunt of acknowledgment. Kolsen and Buchanan nodded.
Are those two guys half as wired as I

am?
Anthony wondered. They didn’t seem to be. And McGee. The guy was like an android. Anthony ran his hands
over his shirt to wipe off the excess sweat and peered out the window asMcGee strolled up to the front door. He’d
bought one of those picks over the Internet that could open any door. They were supposed to be for people who
got locked out of their houses. Yeah, right.

The pick was worth whatever McGee paid for it. He was inside the house in under ten seconds. Anthony’s breath
hitched in his chest. If McGee had the wrong code-if he punched in the numbers wrong-McGee’s hand appeared from inside the doorway and gave a little wave. Anthony was able to breathe again.
We’re

just going to be in and out,
he told himself.
Think of it as a moving job. Load the van and leave before anybody gets

home.

The garage door opened in a smooth motion. Kolsen backed the van inside and parked it right next to a bright red
’68 Mustang convertible. “Midlife crisis car,” Buchanan joked. Anthony couldn’t manage to squeeze out a laugh. He
climbed out of the van, feeling a little calmer as the garage door slowly lowered behind them.

“Okay, like we said, Anthony goes for the big stuff. He’s got the muscles.” McGee looked at Anthony. “All the major
electronics. Don’t forget the kitchen. They probably have a freakin’ espresso machine.”

“Got it,” Anthony said. He figured it was best to talk as little as possible. He just didn’t trust the way his voice would
come out of his mouth. He could endup squeaking like friggin’ Mickey Mouse.

“Kolsen, you’re looking for the small stuff,” McGee continued. “Stuff they think they’ve gotten really smart and
hidden. Check inside Tampax boxes. Inside the freezer. Inside canisters in the kitchen. Any small place someone
could stash cash or jewelry.”

How many times has he done this before?
Anthony wondered.

“Buchanan, you’ve been bragging about you’ve been practicing opening safes. Now’s the chance to prove it,”

McGee said.

“And what are you going to be doing?” Kolsen asked.

“Supervising and troubleshooting,” McGee answered, getting right in Kolsen’s face. “You have a problem with
that?”

“Nope. No problem, boss,” Kolsen said quickly.

“Okay, let’s do it.” McGee led the way through the garage door and into the house.

It even smells rich,
Anthony thought.
Extra clean or… I don’t know, something.
He found the living room without
too much problem and went right for the stereo. He crouched down next to it, unhooked one of the speakers, and
hoisted it. He’d only taken three steps when he heard McGee’s voice ring out in the silent house.

“Car in the driveway.”

Anthony dropped the speaker and bolted toward the sound of McGee’s voice. He found him in the kitchen.

Buchanan and Kolsen were already there.

“Let’s just get the hell out of here,” Buchanan said. He ran for the garage door.

“He’s right,” McGee said. He, Kolsen, and Anthony took off after Buchanan. They flew down the hall and through
the open door leading to the garage.

Anthony froze when he saw that the big garage door was up. A middle-aged guy was standing just outside it,
holding a remote in his hand.

Before Anthony had finished processing the situation, McGee was on the guy. He tackled him and dragged him a
few feet into the garage. “The door,” McGee barked.

A jolt went through Anthony’s body at the command. He spun around and pushed the button that would lower the
door again. It started down. The friggin’ thing moved like it was snail powered.

McGee crouched on top of the man, one hand pressed over the man’s mouth, one covering his eyes. “I need rope
or duct tape or something,” he commanded.

Again Anthony moved without thinking. He grabbed a roll of duct tape off the Peg-Board over the workbench.

Kolsen tossed McGee some clothesline.

And it was as if Anthony had left his body. It was his hands covering the man’s mouth with the duct tape. It was his
knee pinning the man to the ground. But it was like the rest of him was floating somewhere around the ceiling.

“Now get him in the house,” McGee ordered.

Anthony’s hands grabbed the man by the shoulders. Buchanan got the man’s feet. They lugged him into the
kitchen and set him on the floor. McGee pointed at Kolsen. “You watch him. Don’t talk.” He turned to Anthony and
Buchanan. “You two come with me.”

“What are we going to do?” Buchanan burst out as soon as they were out of hearing range.

“The guy saw us. There’s only one thing we can do,” McGee answered.

Anthony knew what McGee was going to say. It was what Anthony’s father would say.

“We’re going to have to kill him,” McGee told them.

Rae shot up in bed at the loud noise outsid her heart pounding. She’d been drifting asleep while trying to read, but
the sound of someone outside had jolted her awake. She sat still, listening. She could hear rustling through the
bushes outside her window.

Rae held her breath, wondering what she should do. The rustling sound grew louder.
It’s probably just the cat

again,
she thought. It had scared her more because she’d been half asleep. Trying to read
The Scarlet Letter
when
all she could think about was the details of that horrible article she’d seen earlier wasn’t working too well, so she
hadn’t tried to fight it when the drowsiness began to overcome her. But she was wide awake now and totally
freaked.

At least that was one thing she could do something about, though. With a sigh Rae tossed her book aside and got
up from her bed, then hurried over to the window. She pulled back the drapes-and gasped. Someone was staring
back at her.

It took her a moment to realize it was Jesse. She jerked open the window. “What’s going on?” she hissed.

Jesse was breathing so hard, he couldn’t answer at first. “Anthony’s in trouble,” he finally managed to get out
between pants.

“Wait right there. I’m coming out,” Rae told him. She shut the drapes again, jerked on her boots, grabbed her
jacket, and left her room.

What about Dad?
she realized. She couldn’t let him know what was going on. She slowed down, stepping
carefully and quietly down the hall. She paused by his door, but the light was out. He was probably still downstairs
in his study, working. How was she going to get out of here?

She’d just have to figure it out. She moved slowly down the stairs, avoiding the creaky spots she knew by heart.

Every second longer it took to find out what had happened to Anthony made her want to scream, but she had to do
this right. Finally she was on the first floor, and she let out her breath in relief when she spotted her dad in the living
room. He was outcold on the couch, snoring away, his textbook on the floor next to him.

Quickly Rae rushed outside, relieved to see Jesse waiting for her on the front porch.

“Anthony and these other guys were robbing a house tonight,” he burst out before she had a chance to say
anything.

“What?” Rae exclaimed. She grabbed Jesse by the arms, ignoring the few thoughts that she got from his jacket.

“They’ve been planning it for a couple of days. I knew it was happening tonight, so I went over there. I saw a car in
the driveway-and the guys were driving a van.” Jesse pulled in a deep, shuddering breath. “I think maybe the guy,
the guy whose car it is, the owner, might have caught them. Because he wasn’t supposed to be home that early. I
went up to the garage-it has three little windows in the front-and looked inside. The guys’ van is in there. I don’t
know if the owner called the cops or if they’re holding him or what.”

“We’ve got to get over there,” Rae said. She didn’t know what they’d do when they arrived, but she needed to be at
that house. With the mood Anthony was in, he could do something really stupid. Stupider. Something that could ruin
his whole life. And it would be her fault. Because whether Anthony knewit or not, this was all about his dad. “Is it
far?” she demanded, squeezing Jesse’s arms tighter.

“About five miles,” Jesse answered, pulling free of her grip. “I was on my bike, but I got a flat about half a mile from
here. I ran the rest of the way.”

“I’ll get my dad’s car keys,” Rae said. She darted back in the house and snatched the keys off the hall table, trying
not to hear the Dad thoughts on them. The last thing she wanted to think about right now was her father. He’d kill
her if he knew she was going to take his car. She’d only had a couple of driver’s ed classes, and those hadn’t gone
incredibly well.

Five miles is nothing. I can do it,
she thought as she rushed back outside and over to her dad’s Chevette. She
scrambled inside, and Jesse grabbed the shotgun seat. “Where?” she asked as she shoved the key in the ignition.

“Go out to Blackburn Road, turn right,” Jesse answered.

Rae gunned the engine, wincing at the loud sound. At least her dad probably wouldn’t hear. He was a snorer. She
pressed down on the gas-and the car didn’t move. “What the hell is wrong with this thing?” She floored the gas,
and the engine whined.

“It’s in park,” Jesse yelled at her. “What is your problem?”

Rae put her foot on the brake. “I’m just nervous, okay?” She jerked the car into drive.

“Don’t put on the gas!” Jesse cried. “We’ll go crashing through the garage.” He pushed her hand away and put the
car in reverse. “All right. Now it’s okay.” He spoke softly, the way you’d talk to a dog that looked rabid.

“Okay, okay, back it out,” Rae whispered. She took her foot off the brake and gave the gas a tap. The car jerked
back a foot. She gave the gas a harder tap. The car lurched down to the sidewalk. One more tap and they were in the
street.

“You should turn the wheel,” Jesse said, in the same ultracalm voice.

“Oh! Right! Yeah!” Rae turned the wheel and managed to get the car heading down the street without scraping any
of the parked cars. “Okay, doing good. Doing good,” she muttered to herself. She thought she heard Jesse give a
muffled snort, but she didn’t look at him. She didn’t even want to blink right now. She needed all her attention on the
road.

Once she’d maneuvered them onto Blackburn Road, she had a couple of other cars to contend with. “They’re
going too fast. Aren’t they?”