Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN THEY TOOK
Willa ran downstairs.
She didn’t bother changing clothes.
She didn’t call for a driver.
She headed directly toward the front doors.
Two guards stepped in front of her.
“Move.”
Neither moved.
Willa stared at them.
“I said move.”
One guard looked uncomfortable.
“Mr. Kane asked that you remain on the property.”
“Which Mr. Kane?”
The guard said nothing.
Willa laughed bitterly.
“Exactly.”
She turned.
Sterling stood at the top of the staircase.
“Looking for someone?”
“Where is my mother?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“Sign the papers.”
Willa started up the stairs.
“You son of a bitch.”
The guards followed.
Sterling raised one hand.
They stopped.
Willa reached him.
“Where is she?”
“Your mother has advanced dementia.”
“She is still my mother.”
“She barely knows who you are.”
Willa shoved him.
Sterling barely moved.
“Tell me where she is.”
“Sign.”
“No.”
“Then we’re finished.”
He turned away.
Willa grabbed his sleeve.
Sterling spun and caught her by the throat.
Not hard enough to choke her.
Hard enough to make the message clear.
The guards looked away.
Willa stared into his eyes.
There was nothing civilized behind them now.
“You think Everett was dangerous?” Sterling whispered.
“You never knew Everett.”
He released her.
Willa stumbled backward.
“But you’re going to learn about me.”
Sterling walked away.
Willa remained beside the staircase.
She wanted to scream.
Instead, she forced herself to think.
Anger was useful only when controlled.
She returned upstairs.
Everett was waiting.
His finger moved before she spoke.
One.
He knew something had happened.
“They took my mother.”
Everett’s heart rate jumped.
“Sterling.”
One movement.
“I’m not signing.”
One.
“I’m not letting him kill you.”
One.
Willa sat beside him.
“But I need help.”
His finger moved.
She thought.
“Is there someone in this house you trust?”
One.
“Crowley?”
Two.
“Security?”
Two.
“Someone in the family?”
Two.
Willa frowned.
“An employee?”
One.
“Male?”
One.
She began listing names she had heard.
“Marcus?”
Two.
“Daniel?”
Two.
“Frank?”
Two.
Then she remembered a name spoken during the wedding.
“Tommy?”
Everett’s finger moved once.
Willa leaned closer.
“Tommy who?”
Everett obviously couldn’t answer.
Then an idea came.
She retrieved a writing board from the medical cabinet.
She placed Everett’s hand over it.
“This is going to take forever.”
His finger moved once.
“Yes, I know.”
For nearly forty minutes, they worked through the alphabet.
Willa pointed.
A.
B.
C.
Everett moved at letters.
Eventually, she wrote:
TOMAS REYES.
Willa stared at the name.
“Who is he?”
No way to ask efficiently.
She tried another question.
“Can he protect us?”
One.
“Where is he?”
Two movements.
He didn’t know.
“Did Sterling get rid of him?”
One.
A knock interrupted them.
Willa hid the board.
Crowley entered.
“Dinner is at seven.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You should eat.”
“Is that concern?”
“No.”
Crowley looked toward Everett.
Then back at her.
“It is advice.”
Something about his tone made her stop.
Crowley walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he said quietly:
“Some names are safer when they aren’t spoken aloud.”
Willa froze.
Crowley left.
Had he seen the board?
That night, Willa waited until the hallway became quiet.
At 2:10 a.m., someone slid an envelope beneath the door.
Willa stared at it.
She waited.
Then picked it up.
Inside was a photograph.
A man stood beside Everett at what appeared to be a construction site.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Hispanic.
Around forty.
On the back were two words.
TOMAS REYES.
Beneath them was a phone number.
Willa looked at Everett.
“Crowley?”
Everett moved twice.
No.
“Someone else?”
One.
Willa used the bedroom landline.
No signal.
She checked her cell phone.
Also dead.
Someone had blocked communication.
She hid the photograph inside her shoe.
At 3:00 a.m., the fire alarm went off.
Willa jumped.
Smoke poured beneath the bedroom door.
She ran to Everett.
The door wouldn’t open.
Locked from outside.
“Help!”
No answer.
Smoke thickened.
Willa grabbed a towel and soaked it in water.
Then she heard Everett’s monitor accelerate.
“I know.”
She looked around desperately.
“We’re getting out.”
The windows were sealed.
The oxygen equipment was becoming dangerous.
Willa dragged Everett’s bed toward the far wall.
Then the doorknob moved.
Someone was outside.
Willa grabbed a metal IV pole.
The door opened.
A masked man stepped inside.
He wasn’t there to rescue them.
He carried a syringe.
Willa swung the IV pole.
It struck his shoulder.
He cursed.
She swung again.
The man grabbed the pole.
Willa kicked him in the knee.
He fell.
She ran toward the hallway.
Another figure appeared through the smoke.
“Mrs. Kane!”
Crowley.
“Get Everett!”
Crowley rushed inside.
Together they pushed the bed into the hallway.
The masked man disappeared down the service stairs.
Fire sprinklers activated.
Water poured from the ceiling.
Willa coughed.
“Who was that?”
Crowley pushed Everett’s bed toward the elevator.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“Yes.”
Willa stared at him.
Crowley met her eyes.
Then he whispered:
“Call Tomas Reyes.”
The elevator opened.
May you like
Sterling was standing inside.
And in his hand was the photograph Willa had hidden inside her shoe.
