Serving Up Trouble

“Not yet.” His fear was conftagious, and though she had no idea what he was dealing with, she kept moving. “Hold on a sec, I’m going to put you in my pocket so I can balance my stuff better.” She slid the phone into the front pocket on her denim skirt, making it easier to balance her purse and the school books she’d intended to study before she’d been side tracked by the self-help section.

Now all she had to do was get down the front stairs and outside. Then he’d feel better, and she could find out what was going on.

She came around the end of the aisle and plowed right into… “Ellie,” she said in surprise. “I’m just-”

“Coming with me,” the older woman said, and grabbed her wrist. “I have some thing to show you.”

“You do?” Angie wondered which book had come in to make Ellie so eager. Her eyes were glowing and her cheeks flushed. She looked more excited than Angie had ever seen her.

But Sam had been adamant. She was to get out of the store. “Ellie, I have to go, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you understand. This way, please.”

Because Angie was surprised at her adamance, Ellie managed to get her halfway down the next aisle and near the back office before she dug in her feet. “You’re hurting my wrist.”

“Well, that would make us closer to even then, my dear, because you’re hurting me, too. In fact, you’re killing me.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“And I thought you were such an innocent.”

The suddenly vicious tone from Ellie’s mouth surprised Angie, so much so that she hesitated, which gave Ellie the advantage.

The older woman dug her nails into Angie’s arm and jerked. When Angie opened her mouth, maybe to scream- she really had no idea-Ellie did something even more un expected.

She pulled out a gun.

Angie stared at it, then lifted her head. “I don’t understand.”

“You will.” Ellie moved behind her and shoved. Angie nearly fell forward but caught herself and started to turn around.

That’s when Ellie shoved the gun into her spine. “Don’t move,” she said quite conversationally, “or I’ll be forced to kill you. A shame that would be-I’ve just had these carpets done.”

Angie swallowed hard against her rising fear. The barrel of the gun felt as if it were jabbing right through her flesh, but she knew it was nothing compared to what an actual bullet would do.

As it had in the bank holdup, Angie’s sense of absurdity seemed to take over. She was wearing new panties today, thank God, though that was more in Sam’s honor than anything else, as she’d had high plans for the evening ahead.

She’d watered her plants just that morning. And, oh yes, she’d gone to the bank. No checks would bounce.

Good, that was good.

But God, oh dear God, she wanted to live. She wanted to finish school. Paint. Teach.

Love Sam.

He was in her pocket, on the cell phone. Had he disconnected? No, he wouldn’t, not when he’d so clearly wanted to hold on while she left the store-

He’d known. He’d known and had tried to get her out of here. What was it he’d said? He was only seven minutes away. That had been at least three minutes ago, hadn’t it?

Ellie cocked the gun.

He’d be listening, horrified, helpless. A man like Sam would really hate to feel helpless. He’d blame himself.

Well, she just couldn’t let anything happen, that was all. She’d find a way to keep Ellie talking until she could run free or somehow get control of the gun.

I love you, Sam. No matter what happens, I love you.

She wished she could take the phone out of her pocket and tell him directly, but she was afraid to do that, afraid to alert Ellie to the fact help was hopefully only moments away from charging in here.

And knowing Sam, he would charge in here. He’d put his own life on the line for hers. The thought made her throat tighten un bearably, and she moved very care fully, very purposely, telling herself she would do whatever it took to keep him safe. Alive.

“There are other customers in here,” she said with what she thought was re mark able calm. “Ellie, someone is going to see you.”

“Oh, no, they won’t. I shooed out the only other customer I had when I over heard your phone conversation with your big, nosy cop. I knew it was time, even though I wasn’t quite ready. You’ll have to pay for that, too, as that other customer had a nice armful of books she never got the chance to pay for. You just keep racking up the debt to me.”

Another hard jab of the gun to her back, and Angie bit her tongue rather than give Ellie the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.

“Keep walking,” Ellie said sharply. “Behind the counter, that’s a girl. Now into the office you go.”

Angie put her hand on the door handle but hesitated, biting her lip through another malicious jab of the steel. “It’s not too late, Ellie. Whatever you’ve done, it’s not too late.”

“You’re right about that. Move along.”

George was there behind a desk, head bent over some paperwork. When Angie walked in, he looked up and went pale as a ghost. “Ellie, no!”

“Oh, not you, too,” Ellie said in disgust. She propelled Angie into a chair. “It’s done, so don’t start.”

George rose to his feet, looking shaky. “But taking a hostage? And our own little Angie? That was never discussed. I won’t be a part of it.”

“You already are, so sit back down and be quiet while I think a moment.”

To Angie’s dismay, George did as his wife said, just sat back down, looking as if a good wind would blow him over if he didn’t.

Ellie started to pace. “Why couldn’t you be scared off?” she demanded of Angie. “Anyone else would have gotten the message.”

“So it was you?” It all seemed so far-fetched. Ridiculous. “In my apartment? Making those calls? The holdup at the bank?”

“Not the bank.” Ellie made another lap around the office, being careful to keep the gun trained on Angie. “But that started the whole thing.”

Had it been seven minutes yet? It certainly felt like it. It felt like a lifetime.

“It’s where you met your cop. Decided to have a life-altering experience and solve his case.”

“But what does that have to do with you?”

“That suspect you wanted so badly? He’s the only employee who ever earns me any money.” She said this with a disgusted look toward George. “Tommy’s my son.”

On the outside, Ellie looked like the same woman as always, every hair in perfect place in its twist. Lipstick on. Sweater set without a wrinkle.

But her eyes were different, lit with a cruelty Angie had never noticed before. “Your son? Your son is a criminal?”

Ellie locked the gun on Angie so quickly her head spun.

“Now, Ellie, let’s calm down,” George interrupted. “She was just surprised-”

“Oh, shut up.” Ellie narrowed her eyes. “Just shut up and let me think.”

To Angie’s disappointment George once again seemed to sink into himself and refused to look at her. Ellie continued her pacing. Each time the woman briefly turned away, Angie wondered if she had the courage to leap after her. She could do it. She still didn’t believe Ellie would shoot anyone in cold blood, even if she appeared to have lost her marbles.

Ellie made another round.

Then another.

The next one, Angie promised herself. I’ll leap, tackle her down and