squarely at him as I demanded that he drink both pitchers dry. And I watched, unmoved, as he gagged in his haste to please me.
“I’ll be right back,” I said and had no problem matching the menace I’d heard in his voice. I simply imagined the way he’d spoken to Missy hours earlier. “If you move from that stool or if you mess yourself—” I stepped behind him, pressed the tip of the gun against the bare flesh where his spine twisted just below his shoulder blades “—you will be punished. I swear.”
Then I backed out of the kitchen.
The engine was running and Katie had just crawled over into the passenger’s seat when I yanked the van’s driver-side door open. I climbed inside, dropped the purse that concealed my grandfather’s gun on the floor between me and Katie, and glanced over my shoulder.
Gran was seated behind me. An empty row separated her from Missy, who huddled into the corner of the bench seat at the very back of the boxy van. There was more metal frame than window there—a comforting location for someone who wanted to hide.
I flashed a smile at my grandmother and my sister. Success, I thought. My very first solo extraction for the Underground and everything had gone right. Before long, our van would blend into the heavy interstate traffic moving away from the St. Louis metro area. Away from Dr. Porter.
I couldn’t help feeling a bit self-satisfied. Within hours, Missy would be tucked into one of the guest rooms at the Cherokee Rose Hotel, our family home. Our family’s business. Within days, she would continue her journey along the Underground network, moving from one privately owned hotel or bed-and-breakfast to another until she reached her final destination. There, she’d be given a new identity, a job and a safe place to live. And we’d arrange for her children to be snatched from their father and returned to her.
Before I could pull away from the curb, Katie tugged at my arm.
“Where are the little boys?” she said urgently.
“They weren’t at home,” I said simply.
“So she just abandoned them?”
Katie made no effort to keep her voice down or to disguise her outrage. And there was no doubt that what she said carried clearly because Missy began sobbing.
I looked over my shoulder in time to see her struggle up from her seat, move forward past the empty row of seats, reach for the handle that opened the van’s side door. Then Gran’s hand darted out and I saw the sinewy muscle beneath her leathery skin flex with effort as her long, bony fingers caught Missy’s wrist and held it captive.
A fit, lean sixty-three years old, Gran was undoubtedly strong enough to force Missy back into her seat. But that would turn a rescue into a kidnapping and we, like Dr. Porter, would be denying Missy control of her own life. If her life was to change, Missy had to make her own decision.
The van was already running, so I shifted it into Drive. But I kept my foot on the brake, my hands on the steering wheel, and my attention split between the rear of the van and the front door of the Porter home. I couldn’t help wondering how long fear would control Dr. Porter’s fury, how long he would remain where I’d left him.
A frozen eternity passed as Gran simply looked at Missy, her expression one of utter sadness. She shook her head slowly and I knew that the intensity of her pale blue eyes would be magnified by the thick lenses she always wore. She lifted her hand away from Missy’s hand as she spoke. Missy leaned forward just enough to grasp the door handle but she didn’t pull it.
“You did what you had to do, Missy. You escaped,” Gran said. “You’re no good to your children if you’re dead. Or horribly injured. We have to get you to safety. First. Then we’ll get your babies back.”
Tears were streaming down Missy’s cheeks, but she nodded. Maybe it was the strength of Gran’s voice and the utter conviction of her words that returned Missy to her seat. Or maybe it was the sight of her husband—red-faced, barefoot and dressed only in his trousers—emerging from the house. He saw the van and raced across the lawn toward us.
I pulled away from the curb and the tires squealed as I floored the gas pedal. Inside the van, my passengers huddled down in their seats. Outside, Dr. Porter stood screaming