Jack stood up suddenly and I flinched.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t decided what to do with you yet.” He looked amused by my fear. “You hang tight, I’m going to use the facilities and have a think on what to do here.”
He walked out of the living room and into my bedroom. I heard him close the door to the master bathroom and pictured him in there among my toiletries and hair products and it made me shiver. I wanted this man out of my house. Or I wanted to be out of this house. I wasn’t picky at that moment, and would have taken either.
I struggled against the restraints, but only managed to cut the skin around my wrists. Jack had tied an ankle to each of the front legs of the chair so there was no way I could get up enough momentum to hop the chair toward the door. He had taken my cell phone and I no longer had a landline, so even if I could somehow manage to get this chair to move I wouldn’t be able to call 911.
From the bathroom, I could hear Jack whistling. A slow rage started to burn inside me. I don’t know why that was the tipping point—because arguably kidnapping me at gunpoint and zip-tying me to a chair was way worse—but to hear this man whistling like he was just out for a summer stroll sent me over the edge. Since the only weapon I had at my disposal was my voice, I started screaming. And I mean really screaming.
“JOHN KRISANSKI IS GOING TO KILL ME!”
“CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?”
“HELP MEEEEEE!”
And then I let loose a chorus of shrieks and wails that would definitely be heard if anyone were outside. Given that it was the middle of the night and most of my neighbors were the early-to-bed/early-to-rise sorts, I wasn’t holding out much hope, but it was better than sitting there doing nothing. At least Coltrane heard me, and he started barking like crazy from the backyard.
A few seconds later, Jack came running out of the bathroom, pants around his ankles. “Shut up!” He pointed the gun directly at me.
“HE KILLED ARTHUR DAVENPORT!”
“Shut. UP.” He stepped closer to me, gun extended, the distance between me and the barrel less than ten feet.
I didn’t care. If he was going to kill me, he might as well get it over with. I wasn’t about to sit around and wait for him to do it on his terms where he could cover his tracks. If he shot me right here in my living room, there was a good chance he’d leave some DNA evidence behind. I figured at least if I was going to get murdered, the sonofabitch who did it was sure as hell going to get caught.
“SOMEBODY, PLEASE!!!”
“I won’t warn you again—”
“HELLLLLLLPPPP!”
And then three things happened at almost exactly the same moment: I saw a flash of red light, I heard a deafening blast, and I felt a searing pain rip through me.
CHAPTER 48
When I came to, I was lying on the floor of my house. A savage pain burned in my leg and I didn’t have to look down to know I’d been shot. My eyes felt heavy and I had to fight to open them. I saw feet, big feet, attached to legs wearing khaki pants. Had Jack been wearing khakis? I couldn’t remember. All I could remember was the burst of light and the crack of the gun. Everything faded to black again.
Moments later (or was it hours?) I heard voices, more than one person, all men. I tried to listen to what they were saying, but my mind was having rolling blackouts. The power would come on for moments at a time and then switch off without warning. I don’t know how long I lay on the floor. When I opened my eyes the next time, there were more feet. Four of them, all furry. Coltrane. Seconds later I felt his wet tongue licking the side of my face and heard his soft whines.
“Will someone get rid of that dog?”
I tried to say, “No,” but what came out was more like, “Nuuuurb.”
“She’s waking up.” Another voice. Who were all these people?
“C’mon,” the same disembodied voice said. “Let’s get him out of here.”
The pain in my leg was making it hard for me to keep a focused thought. My eyesight was blurry and I thought I smelled smoke. Was there a fire? I marshaled all the energy I could and tried to turn my head to see who was in my house. I used what little strength I had in my upper back to turn around to get a better view. From my limited vantage point, I could make out three people. They must have noticed my movement, because soon after they all three spoke at once.
“I think she’s coming to.”
“Is the ambulance here yet?”
“Did anyone happen to see a small box of bear claws?”
CHAPTER 49
The next conscious moment I had was in the hospital. I woke up to the intermittent beeps and buzzes and anonymous sounds of medical machinery. I rolled my head to the side and saw a person-shaped blob sitting in a chair next to my bed. I blinked a few times to clear the fluid from my eyes. The blob was Holman. And he was watching me like a person watches a setting sun, afraid to look away in case of missing something.
“Are you really awake this time?”
“Mmm?”
“You’ve had a few false starts. You open your eyes for a second or two and then you fall back asleep.”
“I think I’m awake
