Laura Childs: Photo Finished

But that would leave poor Billy still hunkered down in the closet.

“You and I are going for a little ride,” said Monroe. His voice was cold, menacing. Carmela could imagine the final destination of that little ride. Bayou with quicksand? Mississippi River backwater? Gator-infested swamp?

But now there was the faint sound of more footsteps approaching.

“Carmela?” A tentative voice echoed from down the corridor. It was Ava. “Are you down here, honey?”

“Don’t make a sound,” snarled Monroe.

Carmela stared at him, took a calculated risk. “Call the police, Ava!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

There was a moment of stunned silence, then the distinct sound of Ava retreating posthaste. Of her clattering down the corridor and letting out a mighty yell.

“You bitch!” screamed Monroe. Gun raised, he turned toward the door and as he did, Carmela swung her beaded bag at him. If she could rake his cheek, knock him off balance…

But pffft, like a swift-moving phantom, Monroe Payne was gone. He’d spun on his pricey Italian loafers and slipped out the door as quickly and silently as he’d entered.

Carmela hesitated for a few shocked seconds, then moved toward the door.

A second high-pitched scream ricocheted down the marble hallway.

What on earth? thought Carmela. She flung herself around the corner, pounded down the hallway in the direction of the piercing scream.

Thirty feet down, outside the lunchroom, a small knot of people milled about. From the startled looks on their faces, they seemed collectively stunned.

“What happened?” cried Carmela. “Who screamed?” Chef Ricardo pushed his way through the knot to Carmela, his arms cartwheeled frantically. “He took her! The man with the gun took her!”

Monroe Payne took Ava? No, he couldn’t have. Ava’s lean and strong from twice-weekly Tae-Bo classes. Plus she had a head start on Monroe.

As if on cue, Ava suddenly appeared. “Sweetmomma Pam!” she cried. “She followed me down here and Monroe Payne grabbed her! He was waving a gun around and he just picked her up like a rag doll and held her in front of him!”

“Like a human shield!” added Chef Ricardo.

Carmela’s heart filled with dread. “Quick! Where did they go?” she asked.

“Outside the building!” Chef Ricardo told Carmela, gesturing wildly.

“Where did who go?” asked Shamus, suddenly appearing in the fray.

Ava’s face blanched white. “Monroe Payne kidnapped my poor granny!” she shrieked.

“Good Lord,” said Shamus, stunned. He looked at Carmela. “Really?”

She gave a sick nod.

Alarmed by the shouting, another glut of people suddenly poured into the hallway. As if in a dream, Carmela saw Baby, Del, Tandy, and Quigg Brevard stream toward them. Billy Cobb hurried down the hallway from the opposite direction, still carrying the plate with the lemon bar.

“Sweetmomma Pam was kidnapped?” cried Baby, putting a hand to her mouth. “Oh my god! That dear sweet lady!”

“We gotta get her back!” shrilled Ava.

“Find Lieutenant Edgar Babcock,” Carmela told her. “Now!”

“Where?” pleaded Ava, verging on hysteria.

“He’s here somewhere,” said Carmela. “Just yell your head off and find him,” ordered Carmela. “Shamus’ll help you.”

“Billy?” called Tandy in a quavering voice as she suddenly caught sight of her nephew. “What are you doing here?”

But Billy was roundly ignored for the time being as Ava, now the center of attention, clawed frantically at Carmela’s sleeve. “We gotta get her back!” she insisted. “I’ll just die if anything happens to her!”

“We find her!” said Shamus, who looked clearly confused.

“Nothing’s going to happen to Sweetmomma,” said Carmela determinedly.

Tears streamed down Ava’s face. “Promise me!”

“I swear,” said Carmela. “On my daddy’s grave. Now go!”

AS Carmela raced for her car, she was aware of someone sprinting after her, splashing headlong through puddles. A quick glance over her shoulder told her it was Shamus.

Shamus? What’s he up to?

With his longer, more powerful strides, Shamus reached the car at the same time Carmela did. Together, they ripped open the doors and hurled themselves inside Carmela’s Mercedes.

“Monroe Payne killed Barty!” Carmela told him between gasps as she fumbled in her beaded bag for her car key. “And now he’s kidnapped Ava’s granny!”

“Holy shit!” cried Shamus. “Did you see which way he went?” Shamus’s voice was tense and he wore his serious game face.

Carmela jammed the key into the ignition and cranked it hard. The Mercedes SL revved immediately with a throaty rumble. “No, but-”

“Hang on, I think we’ve got company!” yelled Shamus as he tucked his knees up under his chin and yanked at the seat belt.

Momentarily distracted, Carmela whipped her head to the right just as she stomped on the accelerator, building up rpm’s and almost red-lining the engine. With her car roaring like a jumbo jet, she was set to double clutch and pop directly into second gear. “What?” she asked him.

There was a moment of yelling and pounding on the outside of her car, then the passenger-side door was ripped open. Quigg Brevard and Chef Ricardo, both breathing heavily, clambered in and squeezed themselves onto what could best be described as a token backseat.

Annoyed, Shamus glanced back over his shoulder. “Who do you guys think you are? The Lone Ranger and Tonto?”

“Drive, Carmela!” yelled Quigg, pounding the back of her seat.

“Drive!” echoed Chef Ricardo. His eyes were wild and rolling as he glanced nervously out the rain-streaked back window. Trying to see what had become of Ava, Carmela assumed.

“Where’s she supposed to drive to ?” snarled Shamus. He wasn’t particularly happy about the two passengers who had opted to pack themselves in like sardines.

But Carmela’s car was moving now, roaring like an Indy car and spinning its wheels wildly as she jammed the accelerator to the floor. They fishtailed fifty yards down Perrier Street, then the Mercedes’s extra-wide tires finally found purchase and they really took off.

“Somebody’s behind us!” yelled Quigg.

“Is it a squad car?” asked Carmela.“Lieutenant Babcock?” She risked a quick glance in the rearview mirror even as her car rocketed down the street.

“Can’t tell,” said Quigg. He put a hand on her shoulder as she swerved wide around a corner. “Hey, take it easy. Do you even know where you’re going?”

Carmela responded with a tight nod. Yes, she did. In fact, she had a damn good idea of where Monroe Payne had probably spirited Sweetmomma Pam off to.

The shrimp-packing plant! Out on River Road. Has to be.

“HOLY BUCKETS,” WHISPERED SHAMUS AS THEY rolled silently into the little dirt parking lot. Carmela had doused her headlights some five hundred yards out and now they crept in slowly.

“Is that other car still behind us?” asked Carmela.

“I think we lost ’em at the last turnoff,” said Quigg. Everyone was talking in hushed whispers now, wondering what the next move should be.

Carmela made the decision for them. Springing lightly from her car, she gathered her skirt up around her knees and tiptoed toward the dilapidated building that Barty Hayward had used as his storage facility.

We can’t just sit around and hope Lieutenant Babcock is coming, decided Carmela. Got to act now!

“Wait!” called Shamus in a loud whisper. “You can’t go in there alone!”

“Watch me,” Carmela whispered back. She hadn’t bothered to tell him Monroe Payne had a gun. If she had, Shamus probably would’ve hog-tied her. And then where would Sweetmomma Pam be?