Лори Касс - Wrong Side Of The Paw

“Is anyone else coming?” I asked. “Police?”

Once again, she shook her head.

Well, at least Mia and Brad wouldn’t be walking into Faber’s trap. “Can you move your hands at all?”

She nodded.

“Seriously?” Excitement flooded through me. “How much? No, you can’t answer that with a yes or no. Do you think you can get them free soon?”

I could see the tape across her mouth crease as she smiled and nodded.

“Great.” I felt a smidge of hope. Maybe we would get out of this in one piece. “Do you have a plan for when you get your hands loose?”

Her shoulders sagged a little and she shook her head.

After a short pause, I whispered, “Right. We’ll work on this together. I don’t suppose you have a gun anywhere? No, that’s okay, we can do without.” Somehow. “There has to be something we can use as a weapon.”

With an increasing sense of urgency, we both scanned the room for possibilities. The desk lamp? Maybe, but its aerodynamic capabilities were limited. Though Leese’s laptop was heavier, it would be even harder to grasp, especially if her hands had, if mine were any indication, been losing circulation for some time.

“How about a letter opener?” I whispered.

Leese’s eyebrows went up fast, then down again slowly. She nodded, but gestured with her chin to her desk.

“In a drawer?” I asked, and wasn’t surprised when she nodded. “That’ll work,” I said confidently, or as confidently as I could manage at the time. “When you get free, give me a sign. I’ll distract him and—”

Faber’s returning footsteps cut me off to silence.

“Where are they?” he snarled at Leese. “You said they’d be here in thirty minutes and it’s been over an hour.”

“The roads are slippery,” I said quickly, because I’d seen Leese’s chin go up. We did not need her to go all defiant and let Faber know Brad and Mia were not en route. If he knew that, what was there to stop him from killing us right then and there?

A teensy part of my brain started to wonder how he planned to kill us. I’d had a recent and very bad experience with a long sharp knife and hoped that wasn’t his plan. Of course, if I had to die an untimely death, did I have a preferred method? It wasn’t anything I’d ever thought about in a serious way.

“They live here,” Faber snapped. “They should know how to drive in the snow.”

I nodded. “Sure, but this is the first snowfall. People forget the details.”

He studied me for so long I had a hard time not squirming. “Is this a delaying tactic of some sort?”

Of course it was. “Just giving an explanation.”

“Librarian.” Faber grunted. “You probably give explanations every day. Here’s a question for you. Explain why I’m here now, today, twenty-three years after the accident. Explain that, Miss Marion Librarian.”

I hesitated. Had to, really, because I had no idea.

“Explain!” he screamed, and it came to me with a calm clarity that, for the first time in my life, I could well be talking to someone who was truly insane.

With no experience to guide me and no training, I had to rely on my instincts. My first instinct, which was to dive into research mode at the computer, wasn’t useful in the least, so I went to the second tier of thinking out loud. I usually had Eddie for this—

Eddie! Where was my Eddie?

I pushed that fear away and tried to concentrate. This was suddenly even harder to do than it had been, because Faber limped over to stand behind Leese. He put his hands, strong from years of using a walker, around her throat and smiled.

“Explain,” he said in a normal voice, “or I’ll kill her right here and now.”

My brain, which I’d always relied on to give me answers when I needed them, blanked out completely. All I could see was Leese’s fear and those fingers pressing deeper and deeper into her neck.

“Something changed for you,” I said quickly. “Something went wrong.”

“Correct, but a little vague.” He tut-tutted. “And here I thought librarians always had all the answers.”

We did, but we usually had some resources at our disposal and weren’t being faced with the imminent murder of a friend. I had to say something, so I started pulling guesses out of thin air. “Someone died. Your mother or father.”

Faber kept pressing.

“You had a disappointment.”

“My life has been a disappointment for the last twenty-odd years,” he said. “Try harder.”

Leese’s face was turning a nasty shade of red. Guesses spilled out of me. “You lost your job. You can’t find work. You’re going bankrupt. You have cancer. Your house burned down. Your house was flooded and insurance won’t cover it. Your driver’s license was revoked.”

Through all of my increasingly stupid theories, Faber smiled and gripped even tighter.

And then, with a sudden leap of certainty, I knew. “Your doctors have told you there’s nothing more they can do for you. You’re going to be in pain the rest of your life and there’s no hope for improvement. The only thing that’s going to make you feel better is getting your revenge on the Lacombes.”

“Took you long enough.” Faber’s voice was back to a snarl, but he released Leese. Her breaths rushed in and out, and I watched helplessly as she attempted to swallow.

A cold anger settled down onto me. Yes, the man had problems, and I was sorry for the pain he’d been enduring for years, and which might have been the thing that had twisted his mind, but no amount of pain could provide justification for what he’d done to Dale and for what he planned to do yet tonight.

Faber smirked at Leese. “You don’t look like such a high-and-mighty lawyer anymore, do you?”

More proof that the guy had lost the power of rational thought. Leese was about the least pretentious attorney in the world. Not that I knew all of the world’s attorneys, but I’d met more than my fair share, and from that random sampling, I had a good idea of where she landed on the self-aggrandizement scale.

Distraction. What we needed was another reason for Faber to leave the room. Leese needed only a little more time to work her hands free, then she could grab the letter opener, and together we’d subdue Faber.

I fake-opened my eyes wide and darted a look toward the window.

“What do you see?” Faber asked.

“N-nothing.”

“You saw headlights, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” he yelled.

“N-no,” I stuttered, and this time it wasn’t an act, because the reality of our situation was taking hold in the deepest parts of me. This man meant to kill us.

“You’re lying,” he said. “This is what happens to liars.” He grabbed the roll of duct tape, ripped off a piece, and slapped it across my mouth. “Now sit tight, girls, and I’ll be right back,” he said cheerfully. “And this time I’ll bring back a nice surprise.” He limped off, whistling.

A surprise? There was no way that was going to be good. I started pulling at my bonds the second Faber left the room. Kicking my legs, pulling my arms, kicking and pulling, kicking, pulling . . .

The sound of the front door opening caught me up short. Leese and I exchanged glances. Was this guy’s head so messed up that he’d just left? Maybe he had some bizarre neurological problem and his memory was short-circuiting. Maybe he’d switched from revenge mode to forgetful mode and he’d just left. Maybe . . .

Then the door shut, and his dragging footsteps came closer.

“There you two are,” he said. “So glad you’re both still here. The party wouldn’t be the same without you.”

He sounded like he was smiling, but I didn’t look at his face, couldn’t look, really, because the only thing I could see was the bright red plastic five-gallon gas can in his hand. And from the way he was leaning over, the very full five-gallon gas can.