mat.
“Come on, come on.”
“I’m trying.” She swept her fingertips back and forth over the rubber mat. “Are you sure it’s here?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. It’s just the ignition key, not the whole bunch.”
As she reached farther back, she brushed the key with a fingertip. It slid away, but she found it again and peeled it off the mat. “Got it,” she said.
Toby let her sit up, but didn’t release the back of her neck.
“Get us out of here,” he said.
She tried to fit the key into the ignition slot, but her hand trembled too much.
“Nervous?” Toby asked.
She got it in, twisted it and gave the gas pedal a push. The engine roared to life.
“Let’s go.”
She put on the headlights, released the emergency brake, and backed out of the space.
“Figured you were long gone,” Toby said.
Saying nothing, she headed for the driveway. As she approached the gate, it began to rise automatically. She drove out, and up the slope. At the edge of the road, she stopped the car. In the side mirror, she saw the gate begin to lower.
“Go left,” Toby said.
She kept her foot on the brake.
“Come on, move.”
“Let me make a call first. Okay? Just let me call so they’ll send an ambulance for Jim. Then I’ll go with you.”
“You’ll go with me, all right.”
“Please. What’s it going to hurt?”
“What good’s it gonna do me?”
“Let me call, and I’ll be good.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll cooperate with you.”
“Right. You think I’m a moron?”
She turned her head and looked at him. “If you don’t let me call, it ends here.”
“Yeah?” He squeezed the back of her neck, reached across with his other hand and pushed the long edge of his knife against the underside of her breast.
“Go ahead and do it,” she said. “Kill me and throw me in the back with Duane. I’ll be a lot of good to you then.”
The blade slit her.
Chapter Nineteen
Sherry winced and arched her back and felt blood start to slide down her skin. The cut burned. It felt very shallow, two or three inches long. Though she wanted to grab it, Toby’s knife was still there. She kept her hands on the steering wheel as blood slid down to the waistband of her skirt.
“Drive,” Toby said.
“No.”
“You wanta die for that bastard? Isn’t he the creep from the taco joint?”
“He’s not a creep.”
“He’s probably dead by now.”
“Let me make the call and I’ll drive us anywhere you want.”
He took the knife away and rested it on his thigh. “Go on and call.”
“Thanks,” she muttered. With one hand, she bunched up the left front side of her blouse. She pressed the wadded fabric against her cut.
The phone cord was still plugged into the dash. The phone itself had fallen to the floor. Toby kept hold of Sherry’s neck as she bent down and picked it up with her right hand.
Needing both hands for the phone, she used her left wrist to hold the wad of blouse against her wound. Then she flipped open the phone and thumbed the power button. With a beep, the screen came to life, glowing pale green. She tapped in 911, then pressed send. Holding the phone to her ear, she heard ringing.
“Start to drive,” Toby said.
She drove onto the road, turning left.
“I hate assholes who talk on the phone while they drive,” Toby said. “Oughta be against the law.”
A recorded voice said, “You have reached the nine-one-one emergency dispatch number. If you are calling to report an emergency, please remain on the line. Our first available operator will answer your call.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m on hold.”
Toby chuckled. “Good thing this ain’t an emergency.”
She kept driving. The recorded voice kept repeating itself.
“Still on hold?” Toby asked.
“Yeah.”
“Pull over and stop.”
As she stopped the car in front of a driveway, she heard ringing again. There were clicks as a connection was made. A woman’s voice said, “Nine-one-one emergency, Mable speaking. What’s the nature of your emergency?”
“We need ambulances,” Sherry said, and quickly gave the street address of Duane’s apartment building. “There’s an injured man in room two three six.”
“And what is the nature of his injury?”
“Multiple stab wounds. A woman’s in the hallway, too. Stabbed and…”
Letting go of Sherry’s neck, Toby snatched the phone out of her hand. He jabbed the power button. The phone beeped and went dead. He dropped it to the floor in front of him, then reached out and plucked the cord out of the cigarette lighter. “You’re welcome,” he said.
She glanced at him. “Thanks.”
“I let you make the call, right?”
She nodded.
“So now you