Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 25

The bottle shattered. The gun went off, and splinters exploded off of some wooden surface. Raine barreled into him, deafened. They hurtled together down to the bottom of the landing.

Ed hit the wall hard, and she was savagely pleased at the thud, his heavy grunt. There was no time to savor it, though— in a split second she bounced off him and half-tumbled, half-slid down the rest of the stairs, bumpity-bump, thud. She bounced up and sprinted through the kitchen, seizing objects at random and hurling them at him.

The toaster bounced off his shoulder, the blender missed him and smashed against the wall. She darted into the office, spun around and almost got him with a stereo speaker. He ducked and dodged her missiles, screaming something, but she couldn't understand what he said, because she was screaming too, as if pure sound could be a weapon. All the rage she'd ever tried to control came rushing out in a shrill, endless, crazy shriek. She felt capable of any violence, any madness or folly.

He thundered after her into the office. Now he was between her and the other exit. She was boxed in, brainless idiot that she was. No chance now of outrunning him outdoors. She grabbed a sports trophy off the bookshelf and flung it. He shielded his face, cursing as it bounced off his elbow, and charged her again, his face purple with trapped blood.

She shimmied behind the big desk with all the computer equipment, shoving it away from the wall to give her more room. The wild, manic energy had begun to ebb. Fear was sinking its claws in again. She threw everything that came to hand: notebooks, software manuals, a modem. A rain of paper clips and tacks, a handful of loose CDs. She yanked a handful of pencils and pair of scissors out of a heavy jar, flung it. He dodged the jar. The pencils bounced and skittered harmlessly off his coat. He dove across the desk, and jerked back with a shout when she stabbed at his hands with the scissors.

Ed seized the desk. It squealed across the floor as he slammed it into her hip painfully hard, squashing her against the wall. He lunged across the desk again, dodging her frantic stabs with the scissors.

"You stupid bitch,” he panted. 'Tm not going to hurt you.”

“No, you're going to kill me” she panted “And I won't let you.”

“Shut up!” he shouted. “I'm not supposed to kill you! If I had wanted to kill you, believe me, you would be dead! I was supposed to take you to Novak.”

“Novak?” She froze, clutching the scissors like a dagger.

He gave her an evil, openmouthed smile, panting and pressing his hand against his belly. She could smell his sour, fetid breath all the way across the wide desk. “Yeah. Novak. He wants you, honey. I don't think he's planning on killing you, either, at least not at first. He's got other things in mind for you. Lucky girl. You know, I was feeling kind of sorry for you before, but it’s funny... I don't feel so sorry any more.”

He wrenched the desk away from me wall. Raine scrambled backwards, tripping over the tangle of dusty electrical

cords and stumbling into the corner. “It was you who attacked me last night at my house, wasn't it, Ed?” she hissed. “I recognize your stink.”

A crazy grin split his distorted face. “Ooh, that cuts me to the quick, honey. What a little charmer.” He wrenched the desk out farther, and the electrical cords attached to the power strip behind the desk began to stretch and pull. “Suffering Christ,” he muttered, his lips curling back in disgust. “You look exactly like your slut of a mother.”

Those words gave her the jolt she needed. She grabbed the monitor just before it toppled onto the tangle of cords, heaved it to chest height, and launched it at him with her last burst of panicked energy.

His eyes widened, and his arms flew up. He winced when it hit his chest and stumbled back, trying to catch the thing before it fell on his feet. She seized her chance and reached out, blindly scrabbling for the first thing she touched, which proved to be the fax machine. He was lunging at her again, and she spun around, swinging the thing up in a sidewise arc. Bashing it against the side of his head.

“I am so sick of you guys badmouthing my mother,” she told him.

He blinked stupidly. The sudden silence was startling. He toppled slowly, like a tree, and bore her down beneath him. She hit the wall behind her painfully hard with her sore shoulders, and slid down onto her butt with him on top of her, his head lolling heavily against her neck. A rivulet of blood snaked down his cheekbone.

She lay there for a few moments, shaking and crying, but it was way too soon to start sniveling and falling apart, with Connor lying still and quiet outside and Seth racing towards a cliff with doom in his pocket, thanks to her. She heaved and struggled and finally scrambled out from under Ed's dead weight, unwinding herself from the tangle of cords.

She clambered over him, recoiling from the necessity of touching his body. She was shaking so hard, she fell down again, almost onto her face. She noticed, remotely, that her arm was bleeding. Quite a lot, but she couldn't be bothered with it now.

First, Ed's gun. She searched through the rubble on hands and knees, sifting through the clutter with trembling fingers. She found it beneath the desk, a Glock 17. She stuck it into the back of her too-tight jeans. It was cold and hard, and extremely uncomfortable.

She stared down at Ed. He was breathing, and he had a pulse, which meant he could come to and attack her again. Villains always did in thriller movies. She'd better not take any chances.

She grabbed him by the feet and dragged him clear of all the fallen equipment, panting and whimpering with the effort it took to heave him out from behind the desk. She stumbled into the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers for rope, twine, anything.

She found a roll of duct tape, and raced back to the office, strapping his wrists behind his back first, men his ankles. She did his knees for good measure, and then bent his knees back and taped his wrists to his ankles. She ran outside, wondering if she might have overdone it.

Thank God, Connor was already sitting up, touching the side of his head with cautious fingers. She dropped to her knees beside him.

“Are you OK?”

He winced at her loud voice, “What the fuck?”

“Your boss hit you with his gun. Then he attacked me. He was supposed to take me to Novak.”

Connor gave her a dubious sideways look.

“Believe me, I don't have time to make up stories,” Raine snapped. “Come on, I'll help you into the kitchen.”

She retrieved his cane and hooked her arm around his waist, steadying him as he got to his feet. “Ed's in the office r she said, guiding him up the porch steps. “I used duct tape, but he's the first person I've ever tied hand and foot, so you might want to check my technique.”

“Ed?” His eyes narrowed.

“We've met,” she explained. “Seventeen years ago, when he killed my dad. And again, in my house last night. He was the first ski mask.”

“Ah,” he murmured, as she pulled the door open for him. “You've been busy while I was napping.”

There was a bag of cotton balls and antiseptic ointment lying on the kitchen table. She grabbed a wad of cotton, dosed it with gel and picked her way into the war-torn office. Connor was staring at Ed.

“You mummified him,” he commented.

Raine parted Connor's shaggy dark blond hair and dabbed at the bloody spot on his skull.

He jerked away. “Ow! I can do that!” He grabbed the wad of cotton. He looked down at Ed, then back at her. “How did you do it?”

She hugged herself, shivering. “I clobbered him with your fax machine,” she admitted.

“I see.”

“He insulted my mother,” she added. As if she needed to justify herself.

“Remind me never to insult your mother,” Connor said.

“I have to say, my mother made quite an impression on a lot of men. I'm starting to think she really must have been hell on wheels.”

She realized that she was babbling, and forced herself to shut up.

Connor had an odd expression, as if he were trying not to laugh. “Well, uh, if she's anything like you—”

“No, not really,” she said. “Look, I'm sorry I trashed your office.”

“No problem.” He focused on her face, and frowned. “Did you know that you have a cut on your face? Your cheek is bleeding.”

She shrugged. “Later.” She touched him on the shoulder. “Look, Connor, you're not going to slip into a coma if I leave you here with that bump on your head, are you? I can always drop you at an emergency room on my way to—”

“You're not going anywhere,” he said.

“It's too complicated to explain the whole story, but I figured out how the killer found us last night,” she explained, through clenched teeth. “And how Ed found me now. Seth has a necklace that Victor gave me in his jacket pocket. That's what's transmitting. It must be.”

Connor’s face darkened. “You put it there?”

“Yes!” she yelled. “I did! Sorry, OK? I'm an idiot! I had no idea what was going on at the time! If Victor’s watching, he'll see Seth on his system. He might think that he's me, but he'll be on guard.”

Connor grabbed the phone. He stabbed at the buttons, rattled it. Checked the jack. He lurched swiftly into the kitchen, fried the phone on the wall. “The fucking bastard. He cut the phone line.”

“Don't you have a cell?”

“Out of range. We're on the wrong side of Endicott Bluff.”

The dream sensation of helpless panic was creeping up on her. “But I have to find Seth before he gets to that meeting.”

“How? Even if Riggs hadn't cut the phone, command central was this office, and you just killed it. Davy's the computer geek around here, not me. He or Seth could put this mess back together, but I can't.”

She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes. “I can use the monitor Ed used to find me.”

Connor shook his head. “Five kilometer radius. You're out of range. The only way to find them now would be to look them up on a master terminal running X-Ray Specs software that’s keyed to the right transmitter codes.”

“Victor’s system,” she whispered. “It's Victor's transmitter.”

Connor's face went thoughtful. “Yeah. Victor’s system.”

''Where are the keys to the car, Connor?”

He shook his head. “Forget it You're not—”

“The keys, Connor.” She yanked Ed's gun out of her pants and leveled it at him. "Now.” He touched his head and looked at his bloody fingers. “And leave me all alone with my possible concussion? I could slip into a coma and die, you know.”

She gritted her teeth. “I can stop by a neighbor's house and tell someone to come and look after you.”

“Let me give you a tip, Raine. The next time you try to coerce somebody at gunpoint, don't offer them milk and cookies and a nice warm blankie while you're at it. It totally tucks your credibility. Now put that thing down. You look stupid.”

Raine sighed and let the gun drop. “So give me a break,” she mumbled. “I'm learning this stuff as I go.”

“I'll go with you,” Connor said.

“No!”

They looked down. The exclamation had come from Ed. He struggled against his bonds. “McCloud, I have to tell you something—”

“Tell it to the judge, Riggs. I'm already nauseous from that conk on the head. Hearing another dose of your bullshit would really make me puke my guts out.”

“No, please. This is important. You've got to help me.”

“Help you? I've got to help who?” Connor limped slowly around Riggs's twitching form. He braced himself against the cane, wedged his foot beneath the other man and flopped him over.

Blood had run in rivulets across Ed's forehead and under his eyes, like a grisly carnival mask. “Not me,” he rasped. “Erin.”

Connor's face froze. “What are you talking about?”

“Erin?” Raine asked.

“His daughter,” Connor said, his voice almost unrecognizable. “What about Erin, Riggs? Spit it out. We've got things to do.”

“Novak's got her,” Ed rasped. “That's why I needed the Lazar girl. To do ... the trade.”

Connor's face abruptly drained of all color. “This isn't happening. Tell me this isn't happening, Riggs. Tell me you're shitting me.”

“If I can't make the trade, you've got to help Erin, McCloud.”

Connor's cane went spinning and clattering across the floor. He dropped down next to Ed and seized him by his jacket, hauling him up with a violent yank. “Novak got Erin, and you don't even call me? You stay quiet to save your own worthless hide? You fuck-up. You don't even deserve to call yourself her father. Why didn't you tell me before? “

Ed's eyes squeezed shut. “Too late,” he said, panting. “Couldn't risk it. Novak's men... watching. The whole thing had gone too far.”

“Yeah, well, the whole thing has just stopped. Right here,” Connor hissed. He let Ed drop to the floor with a thud, and struggled to his feet. Raine retrieved his cane and handed it to him. He took it, his mouth thin and hard with fury.

Ed opened his eyes again and fixed them on Raine. “Your icon on the system is a jewel,” he said. “I got the monitor from Victor. Saw the signal drive by this morning when the car left, but I knew you were still here. Victor wanted me to guard you. Keep you safe from Novak. Fucking joke. Like I could ever keep anybody safe from anything, in my whole life.” He panted, swallowed. “Then Novak got to me. With Erin.”

“Where is Erin now?” Connor asked.

“Crystal Mountain. With her friends,” Ed wheezed. “Lots of Novak's men. A guy named Georg has orders to ... to hurt her, if I don't deliver the Lazar girl. Please, McCloud. Erin always liked you. Idolized you. Do it for her, not for me. She's innocent. I'm not, but she is.”

Connor gestured for Raine to follow him and walked into the kitchen, oblivious to the mess of broken appliances and crockery. He opened a cupboard and dumped loose macaroni noodles out of a plastic container into his shaking hand until a set of keys dropped into it. “Here.” He put them into her hands. "It’s probably too late, but give it your best shot Turn right at the end of the driveway, follow the signs for Endicott Falls until you see Mosley Road south. Follow that for ten miles, and you'll see signs for the interstate.”

“You're going to go and rescue his daughter?”

His haggard face tightened with doubt “Davy and Sean and Seth are all three tough sons-of-bitches. They know what they're getting into,” he said, as if trying to convince himself “And you look like you can take care of yourself just fine, from what I can see. But Erin... she hasn't got a clue. I went to her graduation party, for God's sake.”

She gave him a quick, impulsive hug. “Good luck, Connor,” she said. “You're one of the good guys.”

“Oh, yeah? What's a good guy supposed to do with that?” He jerked his head towards the office, where Ed groaned and wheezed.

“Lock him in the attic,” she said coolly. “He's rolled his dice. He can take his chances with the rest of us.”

He gave her an admiring grin. “Spoken like a true heartless adventuress,” he said. “You're as tough as nails, Raine, you know that?”

“Not really, but it's sweet of you to say so,” she called back.

She found the hand monitor on the passenger seat of Riggs's car. She pulled out on the road in Seth's bronze Mercury, and drove as fast as she dared, with no driver's license and a stolen gun stuck prominently into her jeans. She had to get to him before Victor and Novak closed in.

Seth thought he was the hunter, but he was actually the prey.