realized that her parents were suspicious?
“This is my house,” David said. “We’re happy to keep you from freezing to death, but you’ll behave by my rules in my house.”
“Can’t, sorry,” Scooter said. He actually looked a little sad.
“Oh? Come on now, we were just about to have dinner, so let’s all honor the spirit of the holiday and sit down together.”
Good acting job, Dad, Kat cheered silently, then realized that it hadn’t made any difference.
Quintin was staring at her mother. “What made you become so mistrustful? Surely you’re not a detective, but…a psychiatrist, perhaps? No matter. Yes, this is your house. But I’m the one with a gun. In fact, my friend Scooter has a gun, too. Neither one of us wants to hurt you, but we’re outnumbered. Thankfully, you seem to be a nice family. A smart family. So I’m sure you’ll see the wisdom of behaving when I tell you that if any one of you gets out of line…Mom here gets it. So the rest of you might be able to take us, but you’d go through the rest of your neat little suburban lives without a mom. So we all stay together,” he said softly. “Can’t take any chances. After all, you might have a gun of your own squirreled away somewhere,” he said, turning to her father.
“Bullshit!”
Her father was a big man—in good shape, as well. He lunged at Quintin, and her brothers, bless them, followed his lead. But Quintin was fast. He pulled his gun before her father got to him.
“Stop now, or Mom is dead!” Quintin roared.
The sound of a bullet blasting ripped through the night, followed by the shattering of glass exploding into a thousand pieces, as Scooter took out a lamp.
“Nobody move,” Quintin said.
Everybody stood still, as ordered. Brenda started to cry.
“Shut up!” Quinton said.
Frazier put his arm around Brenda, drawing her close to him.
Uncle Paddy seemed the least disturbed of all of them. He seemed to be assessing the invaders with remarkably sober eyes.
“No more heroics,” Quintin said. “We’ve given you one chance. Next time, someone dies. Because I’m not going to prison again, ever. I’d rather die first. And if I’m going to die, I’ll happily take someone with me. Understand?”
Her poor father, Kat thought. She had never seen him in so much agony. His whole family was threatened, and he was powerless.
A sense of panic seized Kat, like a wave of cold that washed over her and left her trembling. For a moment the world went black. She fell back against the wall in an effort to remain vertical as she fought the nausea that seemed to grip her stomach with an icy, merciless hand.
She inhaled deeply and tried to think. Despite their threats, she didn’t know if the pair had ever actually murdered anyone. They were probably thieves. On the other hand…
They were armed. And they had introduced themselves, she realized with a further wave of nausea. That could only mean that whether they’d killed before or not, they weren’t planning to leave any witnesses. She shuddered, fear threatening to consume her. She only hoped they hadn’t realized just how much danger they were in.
She fought it. She was the only hope her family had.
“All right, folks, if we’re all calm, we can get through this. I want your cell phones. Now,” Quintin said.
Jamie and Frazier reached into their pockets. As Jamie handed his over, he said, “There’s no service out here now, anyway. We’re lucky to stand on the roof and get service even when there isn’t a storm.”
“You never know. Come on, come on, the rest of the cell phones,” Quintin said.
David immediately produced his from his pocket.
“Mine’s in my purse,” Brenda squeaked.
“And where would that be?”
“Right there—the table by the door,” Frazier said.
“Get it,” Quintin ordered him.
“How about you, Mom? Where’s yours?”
“Don’t you call her Mom,” Jamie warned.
“Jamie…” David said.
“My name is Skyler,” her mother told the men.
“Fine. Skyler, where’s your phone?”
“In the kitchen, charging,” she said.
“And yours, pops?” Quintin asked Paddy as Frazier handed over Brenda’s phone.
“I wouldn’t be havin’ one of those new-fangled things,” Uncle Paddy said.
“Everyone in the entire world has a cell phone,” Quintin said.
“I’d not be the entire world,” Paddy said.
“Watch it, old man,” Quintin warned.
“He really doesn’t have a cell phone,” Frazier interjected.
Quintin eyed him long and hard. “You’re a big kid. Feisty, I imagine, like your dad. Don’t go playing Superman. I do mean it. You do, and someone will die.”
“He’s not going to be Superman,” Skyler said quickly. “None of us will, okay?”
“Just remember this. I will not go back to prison,” Quintin said.
“Let’s eat,” Scooter said cheerfully, and actually gave her father a friendly punch on the shoulder. “So how is the missus in the kitchen? Is she a good cook?”
“It’s all right, David,” Skyler said softly, when he started tensing. She stared at him, her eyes pleading.
David managed to choke out an answer. “She’s a wonderful cook. And you obviously mean what you say, so don’t worry. We’ll cooperate in every way.”
“Bastards,” Uncle Paddy suddenly hissed, thumping his cane for emphasis.
“Paddy, quit banging your cane and shut up,” her mother snapped. “We’ll have no one dying here tonight. Jamie and Frazier, Scooter can accompany you to the family room. Just grab the bar stools—I’ll be happy to sit on one.”
“Me, too,” Brenda chimed in, the tear tracks drying on her cheeks.
“Quintin, you can join the rest of us in the kitchen.”
Her mother had somehow taken control. Amazing, Kat marveled.
Quintin laughed. “Yes, ma’am. We seem to have ourselves an Irish matriarch here, Scooter. There’s no one fiercer. And she’s a fine cook, we’re told. Good thing, because I’m starving. And freezing.”
“There are sweaters in the hall closet, right over there,” Skyler said, pointing. “Take off your coats. I don’t want you sitting at my table in those filthy coats.”
Mom, be careful! They’ll shoot you for sure, Kat thought, her heart sinking.
But Quintin only laughed again. “All right. You,” he said, indicating Brenda, “get the sweaters, so we can all have dinner.”
He stared at Brenda, who was staring back at him like a doe caught in the headlights of a speeding car.
“Hop to it!” Quintin said, and Brenda did.
“What about Crai—” Scooter began, doffing his coat and accepting one of David’s old sweaters.
“Later,” Quintin said.
“But it’s freezing out,” Scooter said.
“Later, after dinner.”
“But—”
“What