Second Thoughts (8 page)

He stretched his arm along the back of the sofa, fingers brushing her shoulder. Andy eyed his uncle’s hand. “You mean us no harm, but we’re not free to go. You’re armed and will use any means necessary to ensure our cooperation. Julian Hayworth, franchise owner of the convenience store you’ve robbed three times, stole something from you and you’re trying to get it back, again by any means necessary. You hope to accomplish this within a few more days, and we should consider ourselves your
...
guests...
until then, at which time you’ll be clearing out for parts unknown, and we’ll be allowed to resume our normal lives.”

He waited a beat before adding, “Did I miss anything?”

“Nope,” Max said, gaze and voice level. “Couldn’t have summed it up better.”

Andy twisted around to reach for Derek’s hand. The child’s arm span wasn’t quite long enough, so he tried to climb up the front of his aunt.

“May Connie and I talk this over? Privately.”

Max gave him a long look. “What’s there to talk over? It’s not as if you have a decision to make.”

Andy got one of Derek’s fingers and pulled on it. Derek resisted without looking at the baby. “We still want to talk,” he maintained, eyes not leaving those of his host. “And that’s not an unreasonable request.”

Max’s expression told Connie he knew he was being tested. Also evident was his reluctance to be forced into taking a stand. After a short moment, he shrugged, then indicated the front door with one hand and the hall leading to the back door with the other, giving them their choice.

Derek stood and extended his hand to Connie. But Andy plopped back down, tried to turn around, and Connie needed both hands to hold on to him. With his eyes and a nod of his head, Derek indicated the back door where they wouldn’t be easily overheard. That was a fact she wished had occurred to her earlier when she’d been trying to guess where Max and Moose were headed.

Once she got a firm grip on Andy, she rose from the sofa, and Max said, “The baby stays here.”

She wondered what difference it made, since they still had the other two kids, but she didn’t argue. Instead she looked uncertainly between her nephew and Moose. Christopher, no longer involved with disclosing family secrets, was helping Petey set up a toy garage in the corner, on top of and around what looked like a metal tool chest.

The big man patted his unoccupied knee. “Right here. Got two knees, so I can manage two kids. I’m working on figuring out who’s who. Then I’ll be one up on Uncle Dare.”

Derek led the way outside. “So what do you think?” he asked, once she’d passed him and he pulled the door closed behind them. “Max is the one in charge, but what’s your take on Moose?” He’d dropped the cool and controlled manner he’d assumed when dealing with Max. He now appeared as anxious and worried as she felt.

“He’s content to let Max run it,” she said. “But even though Moose seems mellow and good-natured, he’s still quite formidable.”

“They’re going to be separating us and splitting the kids between us, too. That’ll be to their advantage. Thanks to Chris, they know we won’t be missed until Thursday.” Shaking his head, Derek looked toward a wooded area behind the house. “We’ve got no bargaining power. No way to fight back.”

His gaze returned to her. “Petey must be retarded.”

She nodded. “Mentally, I think he’s somewhere around the same age as Chris. And he has no more harm or violence in him than Chris does, either.”

“So I figured. But the other two are enough to worry about.”

Again she nodded. “I haven’t seen guns, but I believe they’ve got them.”

“They don’t need guns. We’re kind of outnumbered.” He made a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “Depending on how you look at it. Granted, we’re five to their three, but four of us are a little on the small side.”

She frowned. “Will you be serious, please? We’re being kidnapped, and you’re making jokes?”

He frowned back. “What makes you think that was a joke?”

By sheer will alone, she managed not to hit him. “We’ve got two competent adults here, Derek. Two. Are you having trouble counting?”

He looked at the sky for a long moment, then back at her. “Yes, let’s be serious here, Connie. What exactly are you going to do? Talk them out of their guns, or arm-wrestle for them?”

“Well, now, there’s a thought, Mr. Hotshot. How about you go for the guns while I’m busy arm-wrestling?” Then, knowing she needed to rein herself in, she jerked her gaze away. She blew her breath out in a noisy rush, and muttered to the porch door, “My goodness, but isn’t this discussion doing us a whole lot of good?”

She looked back, gave him a hard stare, and then closed the distance between them in order to put her hands flat against his chest. He was nine inches taller, and she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. “Hey, super hero, we’re in this together. If I get us out of here, I promise to take you along. Now, can we go on to something else? Hopefully something a little more productive?”

A hint of a smile curved his lips. “Looking at you right now, I get the feeling you just might be able to pull something off. I stand corrected.”

She felt her facial muscles slacken. She dropped her arms and stepped back.

“So that’s how to render you speechless,” he said wryly. “I’ll have to remember that.”

Then quickly he sobered and got back to the issue at hand. And she no longer sensed either condescension or confrontation from him. “Speaking of guns,” he said, “I think Max has one stuck in the back of his jeans. He wasn’t wearing that jacket when I got here, and I think he went to get it and the gun before following me outside.”

“You’re right,” Max said, and Derek’s head snapped toward the door.

“Hey, this isn’t—”

“I didn’t sneak up on you. I announced myself as soon as I opened the door.”

Connie wondered how he’d gotten it open without her or Derek hearing it. Possibly because they’d been too busy one-upping each other.

“The truck from the auto club is here,” Max continued. “So your time is up. There’s a back seat in the cab, so Moose goes with you and Chris, and he’s got a gun in the back of his pants, too. Connie and the twins stay with me.”

Silently Derek watched Max, and the other man’s return gaze was just as unwavering. The way they were sizing each other up made Connie glad they didn’t have six-shooters holstered at their hips.

Max broke the loud silence, but not the eye contact. “On your way back, you can detour to that fried chicken place—Moose knows where it is—and pick up dinner. My treat. They have mashed potatoes and stuff there, too, that those two babies can eat.”

It seemed to take forever for Derek to cut his attention away from Max, but finally he turned to Connie. His eyes searched hers. The situation could still go either way, she knew: blow up or calm down. She also knew one’s wit was way more important right now than one’s muscle power, and that there was way too much confrontation between these two. She gave Derek a minute nod of her head, trying to make herself appear steadier than she felt. He held her gaze for another long moment, then took her hand and squeezed it. His eyes said
okay
. Wordlessly, he brushed past Max and entered the house.

Max turned to Connie. “Those babies drink formula or regular milk?”

“Regular milk.”

“That I’ve got. Now you need to rescue Moose from them so he can get going.”

Shortly, Connie was kneeling at the front door, holding a hand of each twin as they waved and chanted “Bye-bye” at the departing truck. That was one of the few words in their limited vocabulary, and they’d stand there and repeat it until they found something more interesting to do.

“Aunt Connie,” Max said from behind her. “I assume you have a playpen in the car?”

She rose to her feet and faced him. “Yes.”

“We’ll set it up in Moose’s room. They can sleep with him, and you and Derek can have Petey’s room. He can bunk with me.”

“But—”

“Ex or not, you’ve slept with him before. Shouldn’t be too uncomfortable. You’ll have Chris between you anyway. And in case you’re wondering about it, I have one phone and it’s in my room, both of which are off limits.”

She stared back.

At her silence, he went on. “Tomorrow we’ll go grocery shopping and mosey by your place as well—or the kids’ place, I guess—and you can pack up what you need.” He paused, looking uncertain for the first time. “You’ve got enough diapers to last till morning?”

The man was thorough; he had a good grasp of everything. She agreed with Derek there was no way, right now, to fight back. So she simply nodded. “I packed extra.” She directed a look off to the side, probably a wry one that matched her thoughts. “Just in case of an emergency,” she added in an undertone.

He watched her for another moment, then
turned his attention to Petey. “I’m going to change the sheets on your bed for our guests. You and Aunt Connie put the dishes away that are in the drainer, and she can get used to the kitchen. Be nice to have a cook for a change. Keep an eye on those babies and each other. I don’t want anyone—” He stopped and gave Connie a hard look. “Anyone going for any more unauthorized walks.”

Then he gave Petey a harder look. “She takes even one step out of that kitchen, you call me, you hear?”

Petey’s expression turned solemn, as if he realized the importance of his assignment. “Yes, Max. You can count on me.” He straightened up to his full height, looking proud.

Max’s face softened briefly, then he turned and left.

Petey looked at Connie. “You can cook?” He appeared delighted.

“No.”

His face registered disappointment, then confusion. “But Max said you could.”

“He’s wrong.”

“But…”

When the twins turned away from the front door and started looking around the room with interest, Petey seemed to lose his train of thought and looked worriedly their way. Then in almost the same instant, both babies zeroed in on the garage in the corner and they headed that way. One moved too fast, teetered and fell on its bottom, then got back up and followed its sibling.

“Uhh…” Petey wrung his hands together and lines deepened in his forehead.

Despite herself, Connie smiled. It was like dealing with Christopher. Except Chris wouldn’t have been so politely restrained toward his siblings. “Go put your things away. I’ll take care of the dishes. I should be able to figure out where everything goes.”

A waist-high counter separated the kitchen from the family room, which allowed Connie to work with one eye and an ear on the three juveniles in the far corner. For the time being, the twins were content to sit on the floor while Petey explained patiently what each piece was and what its job was.

Searching for the cutlery drawer, she pulled open the one next to the sink, and froze. A gun lay there, partially concealed by a kitchen towel. She looked quickly at Petey, but he was engrossed with his toys.

With one eye on him, she pulled the gun out and held it behind her, then closed the drawer. The weapon was heavy, and it made her think twice about even having it in her hand. Then she discarded the thought of caution. She wasn’t in a rational situation, so therefore could not deal with it on a rational basis.

“Petey, will you come here for a minute?” She was surprised at how calm her voice was.

He looked up. “Sure. I got all the little stuff put away. They can’t hurt anything.”

When he was halfway across the room, she brought the gun around so he could see it. “That’s far enough,” she said evenly. “Now listen carefully. I want you to call Max, but don’t tell him I’ve got the gun. Can you do that?”

The twins started fussing at one another, and fleetingly Connie recalled that Abbie had been cheated out of her nap, and Andy hadn’t even gotten the few minutes his sister had managed to get.

At sight of the gun, Petey drew back, looking tense and anxious. He put his hands out as if to ward off a bullet. “That goes off real easy, Auntie Connie,” he warned. Then his face cleared. He lowered his hands. “Oh, good. The safety’s on. It won’t go off if the safety’s on.”

Hesitantly she looked at the gun. “The safety?”

“Yeah, it’s that little thing right there. Max showed me.”

“Where?” Intent upon the gun and its mechanisms, she didn’t realize how close he’d come until he loomed almost in her face. She stiffened and brought the weapon up, pointing it straight at him with her elbows at her side. “Don’t come any closer,” she warned.

“It’s okay,” he said, and reached for the gun, but all he did was push a lever back, then he stepped away. “There,” he said. “Now it will go off, so be real careful.” He moved back another pace and put his hands in the air.

When Connie realized her mouth was hanging open, she closed it.

“Should I call Max now?” he asked.

But Max appeared without being summoned. Connie caught the movement at the entrance to the hall and whirled toward it. He came to an abrupt stop. After a long, tense moment, his gaze rose from the gun to meet hers.

“You don’t want to do this, Aunt Connie,” he said quietly. He took a step, extending his hand. “Give it to me.”

Despite her resolve, she retreated. It seemed her calm had deserted her along with Max’s arrival. She held the gun straight out, using both hands, grip so tight her fingers were cramping. “You’re right. I don’t want to do this, but I will. Don’t come any closer.”