“Unbelievable.” Spider snarled, his gold tooth gleaming as he took out his phone and pressed it to his ear. “Devlin? We have a problem. You can return to base. I’ve got your girl.”
Devlin? I frowned.
Spider nodded. “Yep. He was on the way to fetch you, anyway. It was nice of you to make this convenient.”
“Why?” I asked, trying to look for a way around him.
“Oh, we’ll talk about that inside,” Spider muttered. Then he ran a hand through his dark hair. “Shit, Grease. You shot a cop?”
I coughed, trying to get Pauley’s attention. His gaze remained fixed on the hood of the truck.
“The cop didn’t see him—or you.” I said. How could I get Pauley out of there?
“But you’ve seen me,” the guy behind me said, shoving the gun between my ribs.
I reacted then. Exactly as I’d learned in my one self-defense class last year. Pivoting, I pushed the gun away from my body and grabbed it, bringing my knee up as hard as I could to the guy’s groin. He howled and bent over. I stepped back with the gun and turned to point it at Spider.
Melvin Whitaker stood at the edge of the sidewalk to his house with a shotgun pointed at my cousin’s head. My entire body jolted, and my chest expanded in a need to fight or flee.
“Nice move,” Spider said, appraisal in his gaze.
“My cousin. She is my cousin. She can kick. Used to play kickball at the river.” Pauley’s eyes widened, and he rocked in place again. “My cousin kicks. My cousin. She is my cousin.”
“It’s okay, Pauley,” I said, lowering the gun. He wasn’t even looking toward Melvin. “There has to be a decent way out of this mess.”
Thelma’s garage door started to open. I turned, but the guy behind me grabbed me fast, his hand slapping over my mouth and his arm banding around my waist. He carried me to the other side of the truck, near Pauley, and Spider joined us, yanking the gun out of my hand.
This could not be happening. I eyed Melvin sideways, and his hands stayed steady on his weapon. He slowly backed toward his house so the elderly ladies couldn’t see him.
Thelma came out first, carrying a stack of plastic paper. “I tell you; they don’t use enough of this stuff to protect the plants. This storm is gonna kill them. For what we pay, we shouldn’t have to take care of the garden, too.” Her hair was in a high ponytail, and she wore bright red shorts with a polka dot shirt beneath a see-through rain slicker. Her rain boots were a muted tan, oddly enough.
“I agree, but you do like to garden,” Georgiana said soothingly, her head protected from the rain with a large bucket hat. She walked behind Thelma, holding a bag of what looked like garden tools.
Both women turned toward us in unison.
Thelma paused. “Anna?” She looked at the three men with me on the other side of the truck. “Are you having a party at Melvin’s?”
Georgiana looked us all over and then took a step back. “Yeah. Looks like a fun party. Singing in the rain and all of that.” Her voice shook just enough. “I’ll go get everyone some hot chocolate. It’s getting cold.”
“Freeze.” Spider lifted his gun to point at the ladies. “Now walk over here.”
Thelma looked toward her friend and then gulped loudly. “I don’t understand. Is this about the pot?”
“Interfering women.” Melvin stomped down the stairs, his bony knees shaking beneath his denim shorts. Rain poured down his face. “If you hadn’t tried to get into my house, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Probably not true,” I whispered. “But we are in this mess. How about we all just go our separate ways?”
“Can’t.” Spider gestured toward the elderly ladies. “Get in the backseat of the truck. Right now.”
My knees started to shake. They’d shot a cop. Maybe killed him. They wouldn’t want to leave witnesses. Our only chance was for one of us to get free.
As if he’d read my mind, Spider pressed the gun barrel right above my ear. “Pauley? Get in the rear seat from this side, or I’ll shoot your cousin in the head.”
“But, but, but. I’m here to do math. Not go. Not go. Here to do math.” Pauley’s voice rose. He didn’t like getting wet, and I was surprised he was managing to stay so calm.