Not wanting to take any chances, Abbie listened at the living room door. Nothing. But she could hear movement coming from the barroom.
Stepping away from the living room door, Abbie moved down the hall to the sound of a scraping stool. If her suspicions were correct about Alice, Tony, and Louis being trapped on the balcony, only one person remained inside to be rearranging the furniture.
Abbie moved into the kitchen from the hall, keeping close to the wall that separated her from the bar. Pressing her shoulder to the wall, she moved to the edge of the door.
The stool had stopped moving, Max was settled. Abbie had not heard enough, from close enough, to pinpoint his position.
That shouldn't matter. Max would be watching his prisoners; he would not be expecting trouble.
When it counted, people often weren't.
Moving from the wall, Abbie took several steps away from the barroom and raised her gun in a two-handed grip. With one side step, then another, she put herself in line with the door and the bar beyond.
Max was on a stool halfway along the bar, a smile playing on his lips. Clearly, prison guard was a job that appealed.
Sensing she had the time, Abbie took a steadying breath and aimed for Max’s head.
Whether it was the breath or whether his peripheral suddenly flagged a warning, Abbie didn't know, but all of a sudden, Max turned her way.
"Hi," she said and pulled the trigger three times.
One of the shots missed. It was impossible to tell which. The other two buried themselves in Max's head, throwing him from the stool, killing him before he hit the ground.
Nodding, commending herself on a job well done, Abbie lowered the gun and stepped into the bar. Turning to face the balcony, she gave the three on the other side of the glass a quick wave.
"Hey guys," she said. "Guess who's back?"
Leaving Max on the floor, his blood seeping into the carpet, Abbie turned and rushed upstairs.
Tony and Alice followed. By the time they reached the guest bedroom, Abbie had ditched her jumper, jacket, and underwear and was jumping in the shower.
"What are you doing?" said Tony from outside the door.
"Is that a joke?"
"I don't mean, literally what are you doing. I mean—“
"I know what you mean."
"Pedro's men have Kyle and Alex," said Alice. "Angel and Ollie are gone. They'll be at Louis' by now."
"Doubt it."
"What do you mean?"
"Is that where Angel told you she was going?"
"What? I can't hear you. Do you have to shower now?"
"Yes," Abbie called, raising her voice, then repeating her previous question.
"She didn't tell us anything."
"Thought not," said Abbie.
"Well, what..." Alice stopped. Abbie heard her huff. "Enough. You shower if you want. I'm going to save my daughter."
"If you like," said Abbie. "But I'd rather you waited. Don't want to trip over your dead bodies when I come to stop Pedro. Could be the death of me."
For a handful of seconds, there was silence. Abbie could almost feel the duo’s frustration rising.
"Fine, so you'd rather we wait around for you to have a relaxing shower while someone could be murdering my precious daughter and an innocent child?”
Rolling her eyes, Abbie turned off the water and stepped out.
"Firstly," she said, wrapping herself in a towel, "I don't know if you've ever tried to shower with a mother and son tag team shouting at you from the next room, but it ain’t that relaxing. Secondly, yes, that's exactly what I want."
Abbie stepped into the bedroom to find Alice and Tony glaring at her. She smiled.
"Don't know if you remember, but I recently fell into the ocean. I was underwater a decent length of time. That shower wasn't about relaxation; I was raising my body temperature to ensure I don't fall ill, plus cleaning this wound," she showed them her hand. "But all's now well. I need to dry and get dressed, then I'll be ready to kick ass, save your daughter etc. If someone could just find me a bandage…”
"But you don't think Angel is at Louis'?" said Alice.
"No," said Abbie. "Weren't you listening? Angel wants Louis to kill himself in front of Alex, but Louis is still here. Why didn't she take him? And why is no one getting me a bandage?"
"Tony, get Abbie a bandage."
"I guess you told Angel where your guns were hidden," said Abbie.
Alice looked embarrassed. Got over it fast. "Yes. But it's not like she can pick them up. That's Pedro's job."
"Right, but she doesn't trust you. First, she'll confirm the weapons are where you say they are. When it's revealed you weren't lying, Angel will return here to collect Louis and drive him back home for her grand finale. Louis will kill himself, thus chastising Alex, or so Angel thinks, while Pedro will exchange bags of cash for the guns' locations, or so Angel thinks. Of course, she's wrong."
"Because we're going to stop her?" asked Tony.
"I thought you were getting my bandage? And no, because Alex won't be chastised, she'll be furious, then dead. Pedro will kill her and Kyle, then Angel. Or that's his plan anyway. Shall we go?"
"What?" said Alice. "Wait, no. Why would Pedro kill Angel?”
"Why wouldn't he?" said Abbie. "Didn’t you notice that your daughter’s an unbalanced sociopath? She thinks her ruthlessness will endear her to Pedro, but she's wrong. Pedro is a killer and crook, but first and foremost, he’s a businessman, and businesspeople, whether they deal in the illicit or, um, licit, still rely on some fairly fundamental practices. For example, a reliable supply chain. He trusted you and Morris. He doesn't trust Angel."
"But you can't know he wants to kill her."
"I can't know. But ask yourself: why does Pedro wish to buy your entire stock of guns? Has he ever previously taken such a large order?"
Alice opened her mouth, but realisation rendered her mute as Abbie’s point hit home.
"Exactly, now go find me a bandage. I need to get dressed."
They met in the kitchen,
