have it all while you scrimp by?”
“Her husband earned that money, that’s why. And I don’t have to scrimp by when I’m not constantly bailing you out of trouble.”
“I’m not here to judge you, Matilda. I’m just here to get my share of the deal. And to make sure you don’t screw this up. Where are you holding them? I know they’re still alive. You might kidnap them but you’re too much a wimp to ever hurt them.”
“I would never kidnap or hurt any child. You surely know that about me.”
“I’m not asking. I’m telling you. I want my share. Two can play this dangerous little game of yours. Either I get cut in or you’ll never see sweet little Alana again.” His grip tightened. “And we’re not talking some paltry ransom sum, either. You probably asked for a few thousand. But it’s two million. You got that?”
“I didn’t kidnap those girls.”
“Like hell you didn’t.” He flew into a tirade of curse words. “Alana for half of the ransom. That’s nonnegotiable. I’ll be in touch. Soon.”
He pushed her away and walked out the door without looking back. Once she heard his car back from the driveway, she stepped outside and leaned against the column that supported the overhang.
Her fingers shook as she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and called the number the detective had given her earlier that day. When he answered, she filled him in on the visit from Quinton.
“I’m glad you called immediately,” the detective said.
“But if he comes back, what do I do? How do I protect myself and my children?”
“Call 911 and don’t open your door. I’ll have the patrol cop in that area put on alert.”
That did little to relieve her fears.
“While I have you on the phone, I need you to clear up a detail or two about you conning Janice O’Sullivan out of five thousand dollars,” Lane said.
“Okay.”
“Have you ever asked Mrs. O’Sullivan for money under false pretenses before or after that occasion?”
“Absolutely not. I didn’t even ask when she gave me money for Sam’s braces or Alana’s cheerleading competition in California. Janice offered. No, she insisted. She’s always been very generous with me.”
“But you admit that you asked her to pay for a funeral that never took place for a brother who wasn’t dead?”
“I did,” she admitted for the second time that day. “But I told you, I tried to pay her back. She wouldn’t let me.”
“And he never told you why he needed the money?”
“No. I told you this morning, he just said he owed it to someone who’d kill him if he didn’t pay his debt. He was so bruised and battered when he showed up that I figured he had to be telling the truth.”
“Whose idea was the funeral?”
“Mine. I wanted him out of my life. I didn’t trust him not to hurt me or Alana or Sam.”
“Any particular reason?”
The old fears interacted with the new and gripped her so hard she could barely speak. “Quinton said that if I didn’t get him the money, he’d take Alana and sell her to a South American sex slavery ring. She was only eleven years old.”
“Kidnapping. The same thing he threatened tonight,” Lane said. “The only difference is that now she’s sixteen.”
“He didn’t mention a slavery ring tonight,” Matilda said. “But the implication was there. And he’d do it, too. I know he would. The brother I loved is gone. A demon took his place.”
She’d never stopped praying for Quinton. She’d never stopped loving him—until now. Love and hate. She wondered how many families fought that crippling mix and all the guilt and denial it created every day of their lives.
“It seems kidnapping has always been on the table for Quinton,” Lane said.
“Yes, but if he kidnapped Lacy and Lila, why is he threatening me if I don’t cut him in? Why is he coming around here at all?”
“To throw us off. To frighten you so that you don’t cooperate with the police. He could have any number of reasons.”
No doubt. He was smart in all the wrong ways.
When the conversation ended, Matilda stepped back inside. She locked the front door and tiptoed back to her bedroom. She wasn’t ready to field all the questions she was certain Alana and Sam would throw at her.
She pulled the locked metal safe from the top shelf of her closet and set it on her bed. The dread grew all-consuming as she unlocked it and took out the black pistol that her