Alez Kava - One False Move

"Actually, he just bought a place down here. We're helping him move in."

"That's odd. I don't know of any place that was up for sale. Know the name of the person he bought from?"

Melanie started twisting the hem of her blouse. This guy was screwing it all up. Why didn't he just let them use the fucking phone?

"Gosh," Jared said, "I really don't know. All I know is we were supposed to be there an hour ago. He's really gonna be pissed at us. You mind? I promise I'll make it short. Your wife won't mind, will she?"

"No, no. She's off having her hair done. Her girlfriend picks her up every Thursday, and they spend the morning in town."

"That's real nice that you let her do that."

"Let her?" The farmer laughed. "Son, if you think you have any control over what women do you're in for a mighty big surprise. They have minds of their own. Isn't that right, ma'am?" He bent down to look in at Melanie, and she smiled back at him, wanting to warn him not to fuck around with Jared.

"Come on in," he finally said, standing up straight and waving a hand for them to follow.

Jared didn't hesitate, opening the door and climbing out, but he turned to nod at Charlie and shoot Melanie a look of warning. She knew that look. It said, "Keep your mouth shut."

Inside the kitchen Melanie took in everything, from the cute little plaques of hand-painted vegetables to the cheery yellow and white-checkered curtains. She found herself wanting to sit down at the table with a cup of coffee. She wanted to stay awhile.

The farmer pointed out the phone on the counter to Jared. At some point, both Melanie and the farmer had missed seeing Jared grab a butcher knife from the wooden block on the counter. Suddenly he had the man by the collar, the knife to his throat, forcing him into a chair.

"Get something to tie him up, Mel."

She couldn't move. Her knees threatened to give out. She stared at them, recognizing the surprise as well as the panic in the farmer's wide brown eyes. That day so many years ago came back as if it was happening all over again. Jared holding her father from behind, his small arms wrapped around his thick neck, holding on despite the fact that his feet were dangling off the ground and her father's arms were twisting and flailing, trying to grab onto Jared. "Get something to tie him up," he had yelled at her. Only she couldn't move then, either. She couldn't believe they were actually going to do it. They had gone over their plan, again and again, plotting every night after one of the beatings. Sometimes Jared's eyes would be so swollen Melanie would have to do the writing, despite her nose still bleeding, dripping down onto the small notebook where they hid their list of things they'd need. The list had never included the gun and yet somehow it had shown up that night.

"Melanie," Jared yelled again. "Get that extension cord."

Finally she spun around, looking behind her. She almost expected to find her father standing there, bloodied and dirty as if he had crawled his way out of the grave Jared had dug for him. But there were only yellow and white-checked curtains and a daisy suncatcher dangling from the curtain rod.

"Don't make any funny moves, Mr. Farmer," Jared told him. "We just need your car keys. We need to borrow your car."

"Sure. No problem." The man started to point, but stopped when Jared shoved the knife up under his chin. "Keys are hanging by the door. The ones with the Saint Christopher's medallion."

"Melanie." Her brother's voice took on that soothing tone. "Mel, get the keys and bring me that extension cord."

It felt like a dream. A bad dream. Melanie stared at the trickle of blood that stained the farmer's yellow collar. Her stomach started to churn. She tried to keep her mind focused. She tried to stay here, in this sunny kitchen instead of slipping back to that small, dingy kitchen from her past. So much blood-she could see it seeping into the cracks of the linoleum, cockroaches skittering through it.

"Melanie, the keys."

She did what she was told, walking with spongy knees. They'd tie him up. They'd take the keys. She could do this step by step. She could get through this. She had done it before, she could do again. She'd focus and concentrate on what needed to be taken care of. And then she'd leave this warm, cozy kitchen and step back into her nightmare.

11:12 a.m.

Andrew watched Charlie in the rearview mirror. He couldn't help thinking the kid looked like a puppy dog waiting and watching for his master's return. The gun stayed on the seat next to his thigh, exactly where Jared had left it. Charlie's hand, palm flat against the leather seat, was beside it as if he didn't want to touch the gun but wanted to be ready if he needed to.

Andrew tried to size him up, almost like a character profile for one of his books. He was streetwise but otherwise not so smart. There was an innocence, a sort of childlike quality about him that didn't jive with being street-smart. At first Andrew had thought it might be a ploy, a manipulation, part of an act the kid did to get what he wanted. He was a good-looking kid in a geeky sort of way, with an easy, carefree manner, as if he didn't think any of this was wrong. Almost as if he thought it was a game. Or maybe it was all an act.

Charlie met Andrew's gaze in the mirror, but Andrew didn't flinch. Charlie looked away first, "You and Jared been friends for a long time?" Andrew asked as if making polite conversation.

"Friends?" Charlie looked as if the question required thought. "Jared's my uncle."

So that was the tie. Andrew had wondered if there was a romantic connection between Jared and Melanie, but this made more sense. Now he knew.

He checked the door to the house and then the garage. Nothing. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered a tidbit about kidnappers having a difficult time hurting their hostages if they started to think of them as real people. Hopefully that's what was going on inside, but the longer it took Jared to get the keys from the farmer, the more Andrew got nervous about him agreeing to let Andrew just drive off and be his decoy. Whatever Jared ended up doing inside that house could determine Andrew's fate.

"He seems like a nice guy if I had a chance to know him," he said, glancing at Charlie in the mirror again.

"Oh, yeah, Jared's cool." He nodded. "He knows a lot," he added as an afterthought.

"He's kind of hard on your mom sometimes, isn't he?" Andrew tested the water. Where exactly did this kid's loyalty lie?

"Whadya mean?" But the topic wasn't enough to draw his attention away from his vigil out the window.

"I don't know," Andrew said, keeping it casual, as though it were only an observation. "He yells at her a lot."

"Oh, that." Charlie snickered under his breath.

Andrew waited for an explanation, but none came. Evidently, it wasn't something Charlie thought deserved a response.

Suddenly the garage door opened and a blue Chevy Im-pala backed out. Andrew saw Charlie grab the gun, but his hold loosened when he recognized Jared behind the wheel, Melanie beside him in the passenger seat. They pulled up alongside the Saab so that Andrew wouldn't be able to open his car door. Jared rolled down his window and indicated for Andrew to do the same.

"Charlie, transfer our stuff."

The kid practically jumped out of the car. Andrew popped the trunk and Charlie filled his long arms. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner Andrew could be free of them. He felt Jared staring at him, and he didn't like the prickle at the back of his neck that his scrutiny produced. Was he sizing Andrew up, deciding whether he could trust him? Or was he trying to decide what to do with Andrew's body?

Jared reached out his hand. "Give me the keys, Andrew."