Every Precious Thing

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Sara said. “It’s okay.”

“Go, go!” Logan said.

“Go where?” Kurt asked.

“I don’t care,” Logan said. “Away.”

“Why?”

Both Richard and Diana had already disappeared outside, but just as suddenly, they came running back in.

“Car,” Diana said as Richard shut the door.

Logan moved back to the window.

A car was heading down the road toward the house.

“Keep going,” he whispered. “Keep going.”

But his mojo wasn’t working this time, and the vehicle started to slow.

“Out the back,” he said quickly. “Go over the fence to the next yard!”

“What are you taking about?” Kurt said. “I’m not going over any fence. You’re going to tell us what’s going on, and you’re going to tell us now.”

“Go, dammit, go!” Logan said. He pulled out his phone and dialed Dev.

No one seemed to move. Instead everyone started arguing.

Outside, the car was only half a block away, its speed at a near crawl now.

“Logan?” Dev said.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Simi. Maybe five minutes away.”

Five minutes was too long. “I’m in the house. It appears the others are just pulling up.”

“I’ll get there as quickly as I can.”

Logan hung up, and looked back. Everyone was still there.

“Do you all not get it? There is only one person in this house the people who just got here want alive, and it’s not any of you, or me.” He glanced at Emily, then scanned the others. “Get the hell out of here now!”

They started to move. Even Rachel’s husband seemed shaken enough not to put up a fight.

Logan returned his attention to the street. The car was only one house away now, angling for a section of the curb directly behind the car Logan and the others had arrived in. As soon as it parked, its lights went out, but the doors remained closed.

Logan looked down the street, wondering if they might be waiting for reinforcements, but, as of now, there were no other cars heading this way.

He heard one of the sedan’s doors open, and looked back at it.

Not one door, but two. Dr. Paskota exited the front passenger side, while one of her goons climbed out of the backseat. Logan could see three shadowy forms still inside-Alan and Harp in the back, and a final man still behind the wheel.

Logan clearly saw what he needed to do. Divide and conquer.

He stepped over to the front door. Leaving the deadbolt undone, he turned the knob lock just enough so that it was partially engaged, then looked through the peephole to be sure the woman and her friend were definitely heading his way.

They were.

Logan moved quietly through the house, with Reggie lumbering slowly behind him.

“Scoot, scoot,” he said to the dog, pushing him through the open sliding glass door, and following right behind.

As soon as they were outside, he shut the door and took a quick look at the back fence. Richard was trying to help Kurt get over the wall, but it was obviously a struggle. The others were gone.

“You guys need to hurry,” Logan whispered. He patted Reggie on the head. “Come on.”

With a hand on the dog’s collar, he guided Reggie along the back of the house into his pen, and closed the wire gate.

“Be a good boy and stay quiet, okay?”

Reggie licked his hand and chuffed once.

“No, no. Quiet,” Logan said, holding his finger to his mouth.

This time the dog sat down.

“Good boy. We’ll be back for you soon.”

Hoping he was right, he stepped to the fence and eased himself over the top.

CHAPTER SEVENTY — THREE

As Harp watched the woman and Clausen walk across the street toward the house, he’d never felt so hopeless and frustrated in his life. There had to be something he could do. If they could just overpower the guy who’d been left with them-Clausen called him Markle-then maybe they could get help, but he wouldn’t be able to do that alone, and Alan was barely holding it together. He kept looking at the house, then out the front window, then back at the house, his hands shaking as if he were freezing to death.

Paskota and Clausen were at the door of the house now. The place was dark. Harp hoped that meant no one was home, but knew it was just as likely whoever lived there had gone to bed early. He couldn’t hear if they knocked or not, but after a few moments, the door eased open, and they stepped inside.

Harp turned his head just enough so he could see out the back window. No cars coming. Not that he would have known what to do even if one headed their way.

He gave Alan a nudge and smiled, trying to convey that it would all be okay. Alan wasn’t buying it. Quite frankly, Harp wouldn’t have, either, in his shoes.

For God’s sake, there had to be something he could do. Anything. He must-

The driver’s door flew open. As Markle turned, a hand reached in, grabbed his arm, and yanked him outside.

Something metallic clattered to the ground, then-

Swack. Swack.

Swack.

Alan looked at Harp, his eyes wide. Harp couldn’t see his own face, but knew he was wearing a similar expression.

Something scraped along the road, rounding the car.

Then silence.

CHAPTER SEVENTY — FOUR

Logan knew he couldn’t count on Dr. Paskota and the man with her staying in the house for more than two minutes.

Keeping as close to the neighboring home as possible, he jogged to the sidewalk, went down a couple of houses before crossing the street, and worked his way back to the car his father and Alan were being held in.

He was only one house away when the shadow of a man passed around the back of the car and walked up to the driver’s door.

Logan ducked down, thinking that the reinforcements he’d worried about had arrived.

Then suddenly the shadow pulled the door open and hauled out the man sitting behind the wheel. The driver’s arms flailed as he tried to bring his gun around, but his assailant wrenched it away and tossed it to the ground.

Two quick punches, then a third, and the driver slumped motionless on the asphalt. The shadow