“ What about quick-drying glue?” he asked.
Despite her confusion, this time she didn’t question him but merely said, “One drawer down.”
“ Thanks.” Kagan pulled out the drawer and was pleased to find a large plastic tube of glue, almost full.
He went over to the microwave, which sat on the counter to the right of the stove. That counter was next to the kitchen’s side door. He opened the microwave, put in the two crumpled pieces of tin foil, set the tube of glue between them, and adjusted the timer for two minutes.
“ Wait,” Meredith warned. “It isn’t safe to start the microwave with those things inside.”
“ Just leave it like that. With the timer set.” Kagan pivoted the microwave so that it faced the side door.
His parka lay on the counter. He took his gun from the right-hand pocket, the inside of which he’d partially sliced open to accommodate the sound suppressor on the end of his weapon.
Even in the shadows, it was obvious that Meredith stared. Kagan imagined how the gun appeared to her, the cylinder attached to the barrel making the weapon look grotesque.
“ You had that with you all the time?” she asked.
“ There didn’t seem a right moment to tell you.”
“ You could have killed us whenever you wanted.”
“ The fact that I didn’t threaten you with it ought to tell you there’s a big difference between me and the men outside.”
“ If they’re even out there any longer,” Meredith said.
Kagan let her take refuge in that thought.
“ I don’t like guns,” she told him.
“ I’m not crazy about them, either, but on occasion, they can be helpful. In fact, we could use another one. Does your husband have a hunting rifle or a shotgun?”
“ Ted’s not a hunter.”
“ Some people keep a gun in the house in case of a break-in.”
“ Not us. No guns. Especially with Cole in the house.” Meredith started to say something else. “And not with…”
Kagan imagined what she had almost said- not with Ted’s drinking problem.
He reflexively reached toward the left pocket of his parka, but all he touched was torn fabric. He’d started the night with two spare ammunition magazines in there, but along with his cell phone, they’d fallen out when the pocket had been ripped open during his escape.
All I have is the ammunition in the pistol, he thought. Fifteen rounds in the magazine, plus one in the chamber.
Not much.
“ Where are your aerosol cans?” he asked. “Window cleaner, furniture polish, anything like that.”
Again, Meredith didn’t ask questions. “The cupboard above the refrigerator.”
Kagan opened the cupboard and took down four pressurized cans. He set two of them next to the kitchen door.
The baby whimpered.
Holding the two remaining cans, Kagan went over to the laundry hamper and peered down, tensely hoping the baby wouldn’t start to cry.
“ He’s just dreaming,” Meredith said.
“ Babies dream?”
“ Didn’t the World Health Organization tell you about that?”
Kagan looked at her.
“ Sorry,” she said, averting her gaze.
“ Humor’s always welcome. It’s good for morale.” Again, Kagan peered down at the baby. “Weird how the mind plays tricks.”
“ Tricks?”
“ On Canyon Road, when I was running from the men outside, the baby kicked me from time to time. I was light-headed enough that I almost had the sense he was guiding me, telling me which way to go, like he wanted me to come here.”
“ As you said, you were light-headed.”
In the background, Rosemary Clooney sang, “ I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”
Kagan drew a breath.
“ Guess I’d better get to work.” He shoved his gun under his belt, stooped, and crept into the living room.
The fireplace was on the left, its Southwestern design similar to one in the lobby of Kagan’s hotel. The hearth was a foot off the floor. The firebox had an oval opening and curved sides. The flames in it had dwindled to embers, making it less likely that he’d be seen. His gun digging into his right side, he glanced to the right. In the middle of the shadowy room, a large leather chair faced the window.
“ How are you managing, Cole?”
“ It’s hard staring at something this long.” The boy’s voice came from the other side of the chair’s back. “I still can’t get anything on the radio.”
“ You’re doing a great job. I’ll take your place soon.”
The Christmas tree stood against the far wall. Staying low, Kagan went over and unplugged the lights.
It’s late enough, he decided. Turning off the tree won’t seem unusual.
The front door was to the right of the window. He crept over and made sure it was locked. Then he set the other two aerosol cans next to it.
He turned toward the rear of the living room. The Rosemary Clooney song came from an open door to the right of the fireplace. Inside an office, he found three computer monitors and keyboards on a table in front of him. Matching computer towers were under it. Despite the darkness, he had the impression of many shelves filled with electronics.
“ Meredith, why is there so much equipment?”
“ Ted designs websites for corporations. Sometimes he has three different layouts showing simultaneously.”
Kagan felt a spark of hope.
“ Then we can access the Internet. We can send e-mails to get help.”
“ No. Ted put an electronic lock on the Internet access. I don’t have the password.”
Kagan’s excitement turned cold. “Ted thinks of everything.”
He saw an iPod connected to a docking station and a set of speakers. That was the source of the music. Now Rosemary Clooney was singing that she might only be able to dream about going home for Christmas. When he turned off the speakers, the house became silent, except for the crackle of embers in the fireplace and the faint noise of the television in Cole’s bedroom down the hallway.
At the back of the office, Kagan confirmed that the outside door was locked. The curtains were shut, concealing him as he shoved a table against the window. The table extended partway against the door and provided a barricade. His wounded arm aching, he picked up a chair and set it next to the monitors on the table. Intruders could break the window and get past the obstacles, but not quickly, not without making noise, and not without the risk of injuring themselves.
As Kagan worked, he couldn’t keep from worrying that if Meredith still distrusted him, she might use this opportunity to take Cole and run from the house. At this moment, she and the boy might be opening the side door. He leaned from the office and glanced to the right, toward the kitchen, but Meredith’s silhouette remained in view. She was looking down at the baby in the hamper.
Maybe she’ll do it in a little while, he thought. If I’m out of sight long enough, she might find the nerve to take the boy and run. And the baby-she’ll probably take the baby.
He could only pray that she wouldn’t surrender to her fears and get all of them killed.
I could do it now, Meredith thought.
In the darkness of the kitchen, the only light came from the flame on the stove and the clock on the microwave oven. She thought of how the stranger had angled the microwave toward the side door, how he’d put
