“Do you want me to post it?”
“Why not?” he said. “It’s not going to make any difference.”
Logging onto cutloose she could see that there were over a dozen messages waiting for her, but she made no attempt to open them.
This will be my last posting. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused. Good-bye.
Posted 5:52 P.M. by Babe
She looked at the time-5:52. What time had Dave said he was coming to pick her up? Sometime between six and six-thirty. She felt the smallest flicker of hope. If she could hang on long enough for Dave to arrive, she might make it. But could she last until then? Could she stall Ben Witherspoon that long?
“Is that all?” Ali asked.
“What do you mean all?”
“I already told you I have no idea where Corine is right now, but she sent me an e-mail. I could write to her for you. Is there something you’d like me to tell her?”
“What a good idea,” he sneered at her. “Let’s do that.”
She had Corine’s real e-mail address, but she didn’t dare use it. What if Witherspoon stole her computer. If he logged on he’d have access to all of Ali’s correspondence, including the e-mail from his wife. The guy was obviously computer savvy and knew how to find his way around the Internet. After all he’d been tracking Corine’s computer movements for some time without her knowledge. If he ever gained access to her new e-mail address, Ali had no doubt that he’d somehow figure out a way to find her physical location as well.
Other than Corine, Chris alone knew everything about Watching’s threat. Unfortunately he was probably in California by now. But then she remembered how her own cell phone had worked as they came across on I-10. If she managed to send him a message, would he understand what she was really trying to say? Holding her breath and praying he didn’t have his phone turned off, Ali typed in Chris’s e-mail address.
Ben came across the room and stood peering over Ali’s shoulder as she typed. “CDR?” he asked, reading off the address line. “That’s Corine’s address?”
Ali nodded. “Her first initial followed by the initials of the shelter she’s staying in. Daughters of the Revolution.” It was the best Ali could think of at the moment. It sounded terribly lame to her, but Ben Witherspoon fell for it.
“Figures!” he snorted. “Of course, she’d take up with a bunch of commies. For all I know, they’re probably lesbians, too-pinko, commie, lesbians.”
“What do you want to say?” Ali asked.
“Dear Corine,” he said. “You’re a whore and a bitch…”
“I can’t write that,” Ali said.
“What do you mean you can’t write it. You said you’d write what I wanted to say. What’s the matter? Are your fingers broke?”
“I can write it,” Ali told him, “but it won’t go through. The spam filters will kick it out.” Ali didn’t know if that was true or not, but it sounded good. Again, Ben Witherspoon seemed to take her at her word. He studied her for a long minute with a somewhat puzzled expression on his face.
“Dear Corine,” he began again. “I remember when we got married how you promised to love and obey. Obey, remember? I want you back. I want Tony back. You have no right to leave me like this and take my son. Babe is writing this. Remember her? I found her, and I’ll find you, too. And you know what I’ll do to you then. You’ll be sorry. Ben.”
He peered over Ali’s shoulder the whole time, while she was typing and until after she punched Send. “Good,” he said when she finished. He pulled the power cord out of the wall and handed it to her, then he returned to the couch. “Pack that thing up and bring it along. It’s a lot newer than mine.”
Ali’s heart sank. It hadn’t taken nearly as long as she had expected to send the message. Dave still wasn’t here.
“Why?” she objected. “Where are we going? Besides, don’t you want to see if she sends something back?”
“We’re going for a little ride,” he said. “Just me and you. In your cute little SUV instead of my Datsun. I’m trading that in, too.”
“But…”
The land line began to ring. Instinctively, Ali reached for it.
“Don’t,” Witherspoon snarled. He reached for something on the couch beside him. When he picked it up, Ali saw it was a knife, most likely from the cutting block in the kitchen. He waved it casually in her direction. “Don’t even think about answering it,” he added.
They waited together until the phone stopped ringing. Moments later, the cell phone, still in her purse across the room, began to ring as well. “It’s probably my son,” she said. “I should probably answer. If I don’t, he’ll worry. He even might send someone over to check on me.”
“Answer it then,” Witherspoon snapped. “But not a word out of line. Not a single word, and no tricks, either. Got it?”
Nodding, Ali got off the couch and went to retrieve the purse. As she bent down to pick it up, she caught a glimpse of Sam’s one yellow eye gleaming back at her from under the couch.
Thank God she’s scared of strangers, Ali thought. Thank God!
Rummaging through her purse she spotted her Glock’s blued-steel handle just under her pulsing cell phone, but she didn’t try to pick it up. She didn’t dare. Right that second, Ben Witherspoon was all the way across the room, far less than ten feet. That was something else Ali suddenly and belatedly remembered from Nancy’s self- defense class-that within eight feet, someone with a knife can take out someone with a gun. The process of removing the gun from the purse and aiming it would take too much time. She’d be lucky to get off even one shot before Witherspoon and the knife were all over her.
Instead, Ali picked up the phone. Then casually, seemingly without thinking, she swung the purse’s strap over her shoulder.
“Hi, Chris,” she said. “How’s it going?”
“Are you all right?” Chris demanded. “Is he there at the house with you right now or are you somewhere else?”
“You’re already in Palm Springs?” she asked brightly. “Really? That’s great. You guys are making good time then.”
“Mom, do you want me to call the cops?”
“Yes,” she said, “the funeral was very nice. Lots of people were there. Lots of them. One of the biggest funerals Cottonwood’s ever had.”
Please, God, she prayed. Help Chris understand what’s going on.
His next words gave her hope. “Should I call Dave Holman?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said at once. “Dave was there all right, along with everyone else.”
“I’ll call him,” Chris said. “As soon as I hang up. Be careful.”
“Good,” Ali said quickly. “That’s fine. Tell Danny to drive carefully.” With that she ended the call.
“Come on then, Babe,” Witherspoon said cheerfully. “Let’s you and me go. Ladies first. But don’t try anything stupid.” He brandished the boning knife in Ali’s direction. “I’d hate to have to use this here in your pretty little house. Wouldn’t want to make that kind of mess. We’ll share the load. You carry the computer. I’ll pack the knife. And whatever you do, don’t make a sound.”
Chapter 17
Ali picked up the computer and started toward the door with her assailant right behind. She realized as she walked, that this might be her only chance. If he came close enough to her, maybe she could fire her.9 mm Glock at point-blank range in a way that would drop him like a rock and take the boning knife out of play. And maybe kill him.
That was the other thing Nancy had said: When you make the decision to buy and carry a deadly weapon,
