Mortal Pursuit

16

Cain watched Trish Robinson drop to the carpet in a graceless sprawl. A spasm ran briefly through her body, and she made a low retching noise, coughing up spittle, then lay still.

“You should have iced her.” Agitation brought back Lilith’s lisp, making her sound like a petulant child. “I wanted to see that.”

“Bad idea.” Cain kept his voice low.

“I don’t see why.”

Ordinarily she didn’t need things spelled out, but blood made her slow-witted. It was like catnip to her.

He nodded toward the dining area. “I’d rather not get our friends any more worked up than they already are. We pop the rookie right in front of everybody, and things could get out of control.”

“So what do we do with her” Tyler wiped blood off the handle of his gun. “Lock her up”

“No.”

Cain hated cops, all cops, even pretty little lady cops who’d barely gotten their feet wet in the field. Cops were bugs, meant to be squashed.

“She disappears,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on Tyler. “Her and the other one and the car they came in. No muss, no fuss. You know that old Bobby Darin number Splish splash, Trish was takin’ a bath….” His hand made a downward sliding motion. “You and Blair make it happen.”

Tyler’s heavy-lidded eyes shut briefly in acknowledgment. Blair giggled.

“Take off their belts first,” Cain added. “No point wasting the gear. And give Lilith the radio so she can monitor the traffic.”

He stepped into the foyer and crouched by the dead man named Wald. The mingled smells of blood and urine reached his nostrils through the mask. He barely noticed. The stink of death was as familiar to him as the fragrance of honeysuckle to a gardener.

Rolling Wald on his side, Cain removed the cop’s handcuffs from a case on his belt, then found his key holder and detached it. The cuffs and the ring of keys went into Cain’s side pocket.

He had an idea how to use those items. Not part of the plan, probably a mistake, but maybe … just maybe …

From the closet he retrieved his duffel, stashed there before the cops arrived. He slung the bag over his shoulder and returned to the living room.

Lilith was clipping the police radio to her belt. “Look at me,” she said gaily. “I’m Officer Robinson.” She leaned close to Trish, still out cold, and added, “You’re under arrest.”

Tyler was amused. “What’s the charge”

“Impersonating a cop,” Lilith said archly, and Tyler and Blair laughed.

Even Cain had to smile. His Lilith was such a child.

“Hey, boss,” Tyler said. “The Porsche is blocking the driveway. Got to move it if we’re gonna take the squad car out the rear gate.”

Cain chuckled. “You’ve been itching to drive that hot little number since you saw it.” He turned toward the dining area. “Keys to the Porsche. Now.”

Philip Danforth produced a key chain. Gage tossed it across the room, and Cain snagged it in a gloved fist.

“No joyriding,” he warned Tyler as he passed along the keys. “We got work to do.”

“You sound like my father.”

I’m old enough, Cain thought, but didn’t say it.

Tyler left. Blair busied himself with Wald. Cain and Lilith escorted Charles Kent away from the fireplace, to the dining area, and sat him down. He was as pale and listless as a lobotomy patient.

Cain clapped his hands, and Ally jerked as if shot. “Valuables on the table.”

Silently the Kents and Danforths removed their jewelry and wristwatches. Two Rolexes, two smaller gold watches, a gold wrist bangle, diamond-studded cuff links, a gold herringbone choker, a sapphire-tipped tie clasp, sterling silver earrings, a gold brooch with a red silk flower, even Judy’s silver crucifix.

Outside, the Porsche’s motor turned over. Headlights rippled over the lawn.

“Wallets, too.”

They complied.

“Wedding rings.”

Judy started to say something, then changed her mind.

“Now, on your feet.”

Chairs were pushed back. The five prisoners stood, mute terror in their eyes. Cain thought of dogs waiting to be kicked.

He nodded curtly to Gage and Lilith. Their guns swung up, and Barbara moaned.

“March,” Gage said.

For a moment there was no reaction. The word might have been a relic of some long-dead language, meaningless to modern ears.

“Side hall,” Gage snapped. “That way.”

Judy started moving obediently. Philip stood his ground. “Where are you taking us”

Gage struck him across the face with his gun. Philip’s head snapped sideways, a gash torn in his lower lip.

“Move!” Gage screamed.

Screaming was bad, Cain knew. It showed a lack of discipline, an absence of control. The kid was raw, unseasoned. All wrong for this job.

Philip offered no more resistance. He shambled after Judy, followed by Charles. Barbara and Ally, holding hands, were last to go.

“Wait.” Cain grasped Ally’s shoulder. “The girl stays here.”

A single violent tremor shook Ally hard.

Barbara stared at Cain, her face drawn and blanched. “What for”

“I don’t answer to you, Mrs. Kent.”

“Don’t hurt her. Please, my God, she’s a child, don’t hurt her-“

“She won’t be hurt. We need her help, that’s all.”

“Help How can she help you What are you going to do”

“Get moving.”

“No, please”-she reached out blindly for her daughter-“she’s only fifteen, I’m begging you, take anything in the house, anything you want-“

Gage seized Barbara by the hair and twisted her head sideways, wrenching a gasp out of her. “Shut up and march.”

She was weeping as Gage shoved her toward the hall, where Lilith waited with the others.

Charles watched, looking distantly astonished, as if he hadn’t known there was evil in the world.