Kevin O'Brien - Disturbed

Molly just moaned in protest. She seemed too disoriented to struggle. Blood oozed from the corner of her forehead where Jenna had hit her with the gun.

Jenna knocked over a standing lamp as she backed into the family room. It hit the floor with a crash but didn’t break. She didn’t even glance at it. She still held Molly up by her hair. “By the way, this gun is registered in Jeff’s name. They’ll think it was his. I got Jeff to buy it for me two months ago. All the paperwork has his name and this address on it. I told Jeff there were some breakins in my neighborhood, and I needed a gun. Wasn’t that sweet of him to make sure I was protected?”

Standing in the hallway, uncertain what to do, Chris heard a noise outside. It sounded like a car door opening and closing. But Mrs. Corson didn’t seem to hear it over Molly’s anguished moaning, which only got louder.

“After tonight, I’m going to disappear — with Erin,” she announced. “Erin’s still innocent — and young enough to become my own. The Dennehy family owes me a daughter, goddamn it.” Though she had tears in her eyes, she smiled. Her lips brushed against Molly’s ear. “I’ll leave here with more than one child of Jeff’s. The baby I’m carrying, Molly, it’s his. . ”

Chris shook his head. He couldn’t believe what she was saying.

All at once, someone rapped against the front door.

Molly tried to scream out, but Mrs. Corson slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Seattle Police!” the muffled voice called from the other side of the door. The man knocked again, and then he rang the bell. “Is anyone home?”

Wide-eyed, Mrs. Corson glared at Chris. “Get rid of him!” she whispered, dragging Molly into the kitchen area. She kept the gun barrel pressed against her head.

At the front door, Chris glanced out the peephole, and saw a cop carrying something wrapped in an old blanket. It took Chris a moment to realize the guy was holding Erin. Her head was pressed to the policeman’s shoulder. Chris flung open the door.

“This little girl was locked in the trunk of the car next door,” the cop said angrily. “Do you know what’s going on here?”

Erin stirred and let out a feeble, sleepy cry. A piece of duct tape dangled from her cheek. Chris guessed the cop must have peeled it back from where it had been covering her mouth.

“That’s my sister,” he murmured. He opened the door wider.

The cop stepped inside and carried Erin into the living room. Chris shot a look over his shoulder toward the kitchen. He didn’t hear anything. He followed the policeman into the living room. The guy was about thirty, with wavy dark blond hair and a cleft in his chin. He carefully set Erin on her side on the sofa, and then pulled back the blanket. Someone had tied Erin’s feet together, and her hands were bound behind her with rope.

“Oh, Jesus,” Chris murmured.

“I was patrolling the neighborhood,” the cop said. Hovering over Erin, he patted her head, and then tugged at the rope around her wrists. It looked too taut to loosen by hand. “I heard whimpering coming from the Honda Accord in the driveway next door. Do you know who’s responsible for this?”

The policeman wasn’t looking at him. Chris had to tap him on the shoulder. The cop glanced back at him. Chris tried to mouth the words, Get some help.

The man squinted at him. “What?”

Chris nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Get help,” he said under his breath. “We’re not alone here. . ”

Molly heard Chris talking to the policeman in the living room. Chris’s voice dropped to a whisper. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but obviously he was trying to tell the cop they were in trouble. Obviously, Jenna could hear Chris whispering, too.

“What does he think he’s doing?” she muttered. She started to drag Molly closer to the hallway.

With all her might, Molly elbowed her in the ribs. Jenna let out a gasp and doubled over. The gun flew out of her hand. It toppled onto the hallway floor and slid for a few inches across the hardwood.

Screaming, Molly pushed Jenna aside and ran for the living room.

“What the hell’s going on?” she heard the cop yell. He came out of the living room, drawing his gun. “Hold it right there!”

Molly stopped in her tracks. “She was going to kill us and take my daughter,” Molly explained, gasping for air. She pointed back at Jenna, behind her. “She’s killed several people — including my husband. . ”

“It’s true,” Chris said. “She’s the one who did this to my sister.”

Molly noticed Erin on the sofa, her feet tied and her wrists bound behind her. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. She started to move, but the cop was pointing the gun at her. Molly hesitated.

Chris turned to the cop. “That’s my stepmother, she’s okay. It’s the other one. . ”

The cop still had the gun trained on her — and Jenna. He nodded at Molly. “Kick that gun over here.”

“Goddamn it,” Jenna growled. But she stayed perfectly still.

Molly still couldn’t quite get her breath. She felt a bit dizzy, and her heart was pounding furiously. She obeyed the cop. The gun glided across the hardwood floor and stopped nearly right in front of him.

Chris went to his sister on the sofa and started to untie the rope around her wrists. Her eyes closed, she was crying softly — almost as if she were having a nightmare.

With a hand on her bleeding forehead, Molly stared at the cop. He retrieved the gun, did something to the safety, and then stuck it in his belt. He looked a bit familiar. He nodded gratefully at her. “That’s good, ma’am.”

But he still had his gun pointed at her and Jenna. He glanced over his shoulder at Chris. “Stop doing that. Don’t untie her. Get away from her.”

Baffled, Chris gazed up at him. “Why? What do you mean?”

The cop smiled a tiny bit. “Because,” he said. “You’ll just have to tie her up again — for me.”

That was when Molly noticed for the first time that his blue policeman’s uniform looked shoddy and fake. That was when she recognized the man who had carried a screaming Dakota Hahn down the block after the children had cut themselves. He’d obviously been hanging around the cul-de-sac, studying the layout.

“Oh, Jesus, no,” she whispered.

He stepped back into the living room. “Over there with the ladies,” he told Chris, nodding toward the hallway. He pointed the gun at Erin now.

Chris stared at him, half scared, half defiant. He didn’t budge.

“Do as I say,” the man said patiently. “Don’t try to do anything brave, because that’s just going to get someone killed.”

Chris finally looped around him and came over to Molly’s side. He held on to her arm. She could feel his hand was shaking.

Jenna sighed. “Just because her husband worked for a drug company, it doesn’t mean there are any drugs in the house. You’re going to be disappointed.”

“We’ll see about that,” the man replied, the gun still trained on Erin.

Molly said nothing. She knew he hadn’t come there to rob them.

“You, stepmom ,” he said, nodding toward the light switch on the wall. “Is that for the lights outside and down here in the hall?”

She nodded. “Yes, both.”

“Turn them off, please. I don’t want anyone to see me working down here.”

Molly reached over and switched off the lights. The upstairs hallway light and a lamp in Jeff’s study were still on. She stood in the shadows with Chris at her side — and Jenna Corson behind them. Molly knew he planned to turn on all the lights in the house — once his work was done.

“I don’t want to hurt anybody,” he said in a calm voice. “Just do as I say, and I’ll be out of here in a half hour. Now, I’ll need all of you upstairs. . ”