picture, he’d grabbed Susan and prepared to run out the front door. But the bedroom door began to open, and Beck didn’t think they could make it in time.
So he’d turned the other way and pulled Susan with him into the kitchen. They crouched behind the tiny island in the tiny space, their backs to the counter and the living room.
Now they were frozen, like children with their heads under the covers, hiding from some nightmare.
Beck had to remind himself: it was possible he was wrong. His brain was, by definition, not working properly these days. But it didn’t feel like he was wrong. And Susan seemed just as scared as he felt. She huddled next to him on the cheap tile floor of the kitchen. She took short, shallow breaths. As if she was afraid the woman would hear her breathing.
The woman moved carefully. Slowly. She didn’t act like a woman in her own house. She acted like a hunter, stalking prey.
Beck searched frantically for a weapon. There was a good set of knives in a butcher block on the island over their heads, but if he reached up for them, she’d see him.
He was facing the sink and the lower kitchen cabinets. They were right in front of him. The toes of his shoes were almost touching them. He’d have to find something in there.
He reached carefully. He opened the kitchen cabinet. There was a set of high-end cookware inside—probably bought on sale a long time ago. What was he supposed to do with that?
He heard the front door close, and then lock with an ominous click. They were stuck in here with her now. The woman moved toward them. Susan clutched his arm and huddled into him, as if she was cold and looking for warmth.
Beck pulled out a heavy, cast-iron frying pan and felt faintly ridiculous, like a character in some old sitcom.
He tried to shut the cabinet door quietly, but it slipped from his fingers and closed with a solid clunk.
Beck felt rather than heard the woman turn toward the kitchen. He could almost see her, like a hunting dog going on point.
“Dr. Beck? Dr. Carpenter? Are you in here? You’re really starting to worry me.…”
Beck needed something else. He needed a miracle. He opened the cabinet under the sink.
There was a creak as she crossed from the living room into the kitchen. Susan’s grip grew tighter on his arm.
It would only take another step and she’d be able to see Beck and Susan crouched behind the little island.
It was still possible he was wrong. That his brain was simply playing tricks on him.
But he thought of Susan. He had dragged her into this. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. He couldn’t let anyone hurt her.
He had to make a decision, and he had to make it now. He had to do something.
“Dr. Beck,” the woman said, and there was the edge of a cruel laugh in her voice. “You’re a little old to be playing hide-and-seek.”
He heard her take that next step. She was right on top of them.
He looked at Susan, and silently mouthed, Stay down.
Then he sprang up and faced the woman.
She had the gun they’d seen her holding before. Only this time, it was pointed right at Beck’s face.
Chapter 15
Beck didn’t hesitate. He put his arm forward and pressed the nozzle of the can of oven cleaner he’d found under the sink, and sprayed it directly in the eyes of the woman with the gun.
The woman shrank back and shrieked in pain as the chemicals hit her in the face. She waved the gun around wildly, bringing it back in Beck’s direction.
Beck swung the frying pan, with all his might.
He heard a clang and a gunshot, almost on top of each other. He felt something connect with the frying pan at the end of his arm, and lost his grip on it. It went tumbling to the floor. He went deaf in one ear and his vision went blank from a bright flare, and he realized that was the muzzle flash of the gun being fired. For a moment, he wondered if he’d been shot.
But he didn’t let it stop him. He leaped blindly over the kitchen island and slammed into the woman with all his weight.
They went down in a tangle of arms and legs. The woman was still screaming, but now in rage mixed with pain. They collapsed on the floor.