Erasmus Jones answered as he hunkered down to be at her eye level. 'Three days now. That's how long it took us to get from Boston to here. We had to be real careful, you know?'
'I would imagine so. Lucky I wasn't here.'
'Oh no,' Marlin said. 'I wanted you to be here. I wanted you, Marty, but you'd gone. Were you with that cop? Savich is his name, right? You sleeping with him?' He said to his father, 'He's a big fella, real big, lots of muscles, and he fights mean.'
'I bet he ain't as mean as your mama were,' Erasmus said and poked the tip of the knife into the sole of Lacey's shoe. It was so sharp that it sliced through the sole and nicked her foot. She winced, but kept quiet.
'Mama was a bitch, Pa. I remember her. She was a bitch, always cussing and back-talking you, always had a bottle in her hand, swigging it even while she was hitting me in the face.'
'Yep, Lucile were a mean one. She's dead now, did I tell you that?'
Another rabbit hole, Lacey thought. Forty minutes, max.
Dillon would come over here in no more than forty minutes now. Then what? He wouldn't be expecting trouble; there was no reason for him to. Erasmus and Marlin were supposed to be in Ohio. So he'd think she just needed help moving stuff. He'd be vulnerable. She wouldn't let them hurt him. No, she had her Lady Colt. She'd do something. She wouldn't, couldn't, let anything happen to Dillon.
'Ma's dead?' Marlin asked as he sat down on one of Lacey's kitchen chairs.
'Yeah.'
His father was telling him this now?
Marlin said, 'No, you didn't tell me that, Pa. What happened?'
'Nothin' much. I just carved her up like that Thanksgiving turkey she didn't make me.'
'Oh, well, that's all right, then. She deserved it. She never was a good wife or mother.'
'Yeah, she was just like all those women who walked the walk for you, Marlin. That maze of yours, I sure do like that. You got that from that game we used to play in the desert.'
'Yes, Pa.'
'Well, we got this gal here now. Let's off her and then get out of here. There's no more food anyways.'
'No,' Marlin said, and his voice was suddenly different- strong and determined, not like the deferential tone he'd used with his father since he'd come in. 'Marty's going to walk the walk. She's got to be punished. She shot me in the belly. It hurt real bad. It still hurts. I got this ugly scar that's all puckered and red. It's her turn now.'
Erasmus said, 'I want to just kill her here, now. It ain't smart to hang around here.'
'I know. I got my maze all fixed up for her. She'll like it. She already knows the drill. Only this time when she hits the center, she'll have a big surprise.'
Thirty minutes, no more.
'You fix up another warehouse, Marlin?'
'Hey, Marty, I fixed it up real good. You'll like it. I had lots of time so it's really prime.'
'Why would I walk the walk when you get me there, Marlin I know you'll be at the center waiting to kill me. I'd be a fool to go into the maze.'
'Well, you see, Marty, you'll do anything I ask you to. I got myself a little leverage here.' Dillon. No, not Dillon. Who?
'Let me go get my little sweet chops,' Erasmus said and rose slowly. He stretched that skinny body of his. His legs were slightly bowed. He was wearing cowboy boots. Without boots he'd be no more than five foot six inches. 'You keep a good eye on her, boy. She's tricky. Look at her eyes-lots of tricks buried in there. I bet you the FBI taught her all sorts of things to do to a man.'
Marlin calmly pulled a .44 Magnum out of his belt. 'I like this better than your FBI gun, Marty, although I'll take it with me, as a souvenir. This baby will blow a foot-wide hole out of your back if I shoot you in the chest. I don't think you would survive that, Marty.' He assumed a serious pose, rubbing his chin with his hand. 'You're real tough, but you couldn't live through this, could you?'
'No,' she said, studying his face, his eyes, trying to figure out what to do. 'No one could.' Should she try to disarm him now?
It was academic. There was Erasmus in the door. He was grinning. 'She gave me a mite of trouble so I had to smash her head.' He dragged in Hannah Paisley by the hair. She was wearing a charcoal gray running suit, running shoes on her feet. She was unconscious.
'You know her, don't you, gal? Don't lie to me, I can see it writ all over your face.'
'Yes, she's a Special Agent. How did you get her?' 'Easy as skinnin' a skunk. She was out running. I stole her fanny pack, saw she was with the FBI, and took her down. Nary a whimper from her. I'm real pleased you know her, personal like. That's gotta make a difference. You don't want me to kill her, now do you?'
'How did you know that I knew her?' Out of ten thousand FBI agents he had to get Hannah Paisley? No, it was too much of a coincidence.
'Oh, I was watching you come out of that huge ugly Hoover Building. There was this one, standing there, waving at you, but you didn't see her, you just kept walking. I knew I had the one I needed right then. Yep, she knew you.'
Hannah groaned. Lacey saw that her hands were lashed together behind her back and her ankles were tied tightly together.
'Don't hurt her. She didn't do anything to you.'
Marlin laughed. 'No, but I knew you wouldn't cooperate unless we got someone. Pa followed her. He figured she was FBI and he was right. Now, Marty, you ready to come to the warehouse with me and walk the walk?'
Twenty minutes, no more than twenty damned minutes. There would be no way Dillon would find her if they left, no way at all. She looked around then. They had trashed the kitchen, the living room. He would come in and he would know that she was taken, but he wouldn't know where. For the first time she smelled spoiled food, saw the dishes strewn over the counters and the table. There were a good dozen empty beer cans, some of them on the floor.
'Where is this warehouse, Marlin?'
'Why do you care, Marty? It won't make any difference to you where you croak it.'
'Sure it will. Tell me. Oh yes, my name's Lacey, not Marty. Belinda Madigan was my sister. You having trouble with your memory, Marlin?'
His breathing hitched, his hand jerked up. She didn't drop her eyes from his face.
'Don't piss me off, Marty. You want to know where we're going? Off to that real bad-ass part of Washington between Calvert and Williams Streets. When I was going in and out down there no one even looked at me. They were all dope dealers, addicts, and drunks. Nope, no one cared what I was doing. And you know something else? When they find you, no one will care about that either.
'Every night I got there, I had to kick out the druggies. I'll have to do it just one more time. I wonder if they'll report finding you or just wait until a cop comes along. Yeah, I'll flush out all the druggies. They're piled high around there, filthy slugs.'
'My boy never did drugs,' Erasmus said, looking over at Lacey. She nearly vomited when she saw that he was stroking his gnarled hand over Hannah's breasts the other hand still tangled in her hair. 'Marlin ain't stupid. He only likes gals, too, knows how to use 'em real good. I taught him. Whenever he found his way to the center of the maze I built, why I took him off to Yuma and bought him a whore.'
Fifteen minutes.
'I've got to go to the bathroom, Marlin.'
'You really gotta pee, gal? You're not shittin' Marlin?'
'I really do. Can I get up? Really slowly?'
Marlin nodded. He'd straightened, the gun pointed right at her chest. 'I'll go with you, Marty. No, I won't watch you pee, but I'll be right outside the door. You do anything stupid and I'll let my pa cut up that pretty face of yours.'
'No, Marlin, I'll cut up this gal's pretty face. First I'll cut off all her hair, scrape my knife over her scalp so she looks like a billiard ball. Then I'll do a picture on her face. You got that, gal?'
'I got it.' Ten minutes. Calvert and Williams Streets. She wasn't familiar with them, but Dillon would be.
Her downstairs bathroom was disgusting. It stank of urine, of dirty towels, of dirty underwear, and there were spots on the mirror. 'Did anyone ever tell you you were a pig, Marlin?'
