Lynette Eason - Hide and Seek

“Let me go!” She twisted, kicking out and catching a shin.

Her captor grunted.

“Hey! Let her go!”

She froze once again. “Peter?” Disbelief made her dizzy. “What are you doing?” she cried. Peter approached her, his hands replacing her captor’s on her arms.

Erica hit him in the chest to push him away from her, but he kept his grip on her upper arms. It didn’t hurt, but she didn’t like it.

“Hey, chill, sis. We just need some cash, okay?” His foul breath made her grimace.

“Let. Me. Go.” She kept her voice low and did her best to rein in her fury and fear. Peter—her younger brother, the black sheep, the ne’er-do-well. Whatever one wanted to call him, he had also once been a suspect in Molly’s disappearance but had been cleared when there’d been no evidence to support his involvement. He released her and she backed away from him until the back of her knees touched the bed. “Where did you get the key?”

“Let’s get the cash and get out of here.” Erica swiveled toward the man who’d grabbed her when she’d exited the bathroom. Menace dripped from his gaze.

Real fear clutched her. “Who’s he?” she asked Peter.

Peter advanced. He stopped in front of her, but he didn’t attempt to grab her again. His sullen, bloodshot eyes slid from hers, and she reached for the cell phone on the end table. “It’s late, Peter, and I’m tired,” she said, trying to sound normal. “I don’t have any cash on me.”

And she wouldn’t give it to him if she did.

He was twenty-four and in spite of the drugs he pushed into his body, still looked young and innocent. He shot his buddy a black look. “I told you to wait outside.”

“I got tired of waiting. You were looking in the wrong place.” Drug-addled green eyes lingered on her and he licked his lips.

Peter stepped between her and the other intruder. “Back off, Polo. That’s not what you’re here for.”

Polo leered. “Says you.”

Peter stood tall and straightened his shoulders. “Yeah. I do. Now get out of here.”

Erica blinked at Peter’s defense of her. All of a sudden, she had a glimpse of the man he could have been.

Polo shrugged and backed down. “I’ll be outside.” He gave Erica one last look and she shuddered with distaste when he finally turned his back.

“Peter, get rid of that loser, then give me back my key.” She paused for a moment, knowing she probably shouldn’t say what she was about to say. “You can stay in the guest room tonight.”

Peter lifted his hands and raked them through his hair. They trembled. He paced from one end of the room to the other, glancing at the door as though expecting Polo to return. “I need you to give me some cash. I’ll give it to him, and he’ll leave you alone.”

What was he coming down from? His drug of choice was usually cocaine or heroin.

He shook his head. “I’m so tired.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Look, Erica, I’m sorry about all this.”

She lifted a brow. “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I’m—” He waved a hand. “I wish...”

“Wish what, Peter?”

Erica took his arm and tried to lead him from the room but he jerked away from her. “What are you doing?”

“Police! Anyone here?”

Peter froze like a deer caught in the headlights. “You called the cops?” he snarled.

“No! I didn’t.” She turned and yelled, “We’re back here! Everything is fine.”

Had they seen Polo?

Footsteps sounded on her hardwood and for the second time that night she faced the officers Max seemed to know personally, with their weapons drawn. She held her hands where they could see them. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“Everything all right?” The officer in front stepped forward, his narrowed eyes taking in the scene before him.

Erica nodded. “Yes. Fine.”

The officers exchanged glances and the first one holstered his weapon. The second only lowered his.

“Who called you?” Erica asked.

“Your neighbor said she saw a suspicious man hanging around your front door. He was on his way over to see if you needed help when he heard you scream. Decided to call the cops instead.” He motioned to the bruise on her chin. “Want to explain that?”

Erica looked at her brother as she reached up to touch her chin. “He surprised me and I got banged with the door.”

Peter looked contrite. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

Was he sorry? Or was he sorry he wasn’t going to get what he came here for? She honestly didn’t know what to think of him anymore. She just knew she wanted to help him, couldn’t give up on him.

He was her brother, plain and simple.

The cop nodded, suspicion still written on his face. “What’s he coming off?”

Pete glared at the officer and Erica sighed. “I have no idea, but I’ll take care of him.”

“You’re not helping him by covering for him.”

“I know.” Weariness invaded her as she looked at her little brother. How had he become this stranger she didn’t know anymore? Someone she didn’t trust and was afraid of some of the time, like when he came into her apartment with a creep and tried to shake her down for cash? “He had someone with him. A guy named Polo.”

Peter winced and the officer’s eyes shot wide. “Polo Moretti?”

She grimaced. “I didn’t get a last name.” She looked at her brother. “Peter?”

“I just met the guy,” Peter muttered. “I don’t know his last name.”

“Who is he?” Erica asked.

The two officers exchanged a glance. Then one said, “He’s involved in all kinds of nasty stuff. You don’t want to mess around with him.”

Erica drew in a quick breath. “Peter, what are you involved in?”

“Erica?”

She frowned—she knew that voice. She shot a look at Peter to let him know the conversation wasn’t over. “Max?”

Max stepped into the hall and greeted the officers by name. Then he looked at her. “What’s going on? I kept calling but you didn’t answer.”

“So you drove over here?” Erica felt a thrill in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t explain but didn’t want to think about.

“Yeah. It’s not that far.” Pain flashed in Max’s gaze for a brief moment—long enough for her to wonder about it— until his gaze shifted to her brother, a question on his face.

Peter’s eyelids drooped. He didn’t seem so dangerous now. In fact he reminded her of the sleepy little brother she used to put to bed. Erica said, “Look, let me get Peter settled and we’ll talk in the den.”

Max and the other two officers left the room. “Go on in the bedroom. I’ll take care of this,” she said to Peter.

For once, he didn’t argue with her, just shuffled his way down the hall with one last look toward the front door, probably wondering where his friend went.

If Peter stayed here, would that Polo guy come back looking for him?

She felt sick at the thought.

The guest room door shut with a decisive click. Erica stood staring at the door for a brief moment then shut her eyes as she fought the weariness that threatened to make her keel over. Oh, Peter. What was she going to do with him?

Voices from the den grabbed her attention. She’d worry about Peter later.

Erica made her way back into the den where she found Max sitting on her couch and the other officers standing in front of her fireplace looking at Molly’s picture.

Max said, “This is Chris and Steve. You remember them from earlier tonight?”

Erica nodded, shook their hands and said, “Sorry for all the trouble. Peter’s going through a rough patch and...” Her voice trailed off. What could she say? Peter’s actions, the company he was keeping and his appearance spoke for themselves. She refused to make excuses for him anymore.