Wherever She Goes(79)

“So you and Beth Kenner have been working together to hold Brandon in protective custody. Until when? What was your end game?”

He waves the drive. “This, obviously. Find the data. Give it to Papa Zima. Back him off. Then call Kimmy’s sister and give her the boy, preferably without Denis ever knowing he had a son. Which is a lousy thing to do to a friend, but it was for the kid’s own good. Denis’s, too. Denis’s parents would hold the kid over his head, leverage to get Denis back into the fold.”

“And now that Denis knows about Brandon?”

“We’ll figure that one out. For now, I have this.” He raises the drive. “And you can have the boy. I’ll give you a lift back to the city.”

“Thanks, but no. I think we’ll take it from here.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself. Brandon? Come on out. It’s time to go home.”



We have Brandon. Orbec offers again to drive us to the city, but he doesn’t seem surprised when we refuse. Whatever his motivations, he is still the one who took Paul and threatened me, and now that I have what I came for, I’m getting the hell out. Paul agrees.

We walk onto the front porch.

“At the end of the drive, turn left,” Orbec says as he steps onto the porch with us. “It’s about a mile to a gas station. You can get a cab to pick you up there. Don’t get any ideas about calling the cops. Please. That’ll just make this a lot more complicated than it needs to be.”

“I have what I wanted,” I say.

“Good. Then get going—”

“Yes,” says a voice behind me. “You and your husband should go. The boy stays with me.”

Paul and I both wheel to see a woman walking from the forest. She’s about fifty, tall and sturdy . . . and flanked by two men with guns. Two more men appear around the other side of the house.

“Don’t, Hugh,” she says. “You know that’s a very bad idea.”

Orbec goes still, hand poised over his gun. He slowly withdraws it.

“Mama Zima,” Orbec says. “I was just about to come see you and Papa. I have something you want.”

He holds up the USB drive.

“Excellent,” she says. “But you actually have two things I want. I’ll take the drive . . . and I’ll take my grandson.”

Orbec shakes his head. “He’s not your grandson, Mama. He’s just Kimmy’s kid. She got knocked up after she left Denis. I took him, in hopes she’d turn over the drive in exchange, but someone else got to her first. Luckily, these two cared enough about the brat to make the trade.”

“So this isn’t my son’s boy?”

“If Denis got Kimmy knocked up, she’d have ridden that train to the end. Sunk her hooks even deeper into Denis and never let go. Nah, this is just some brat—”

“Liar.”

I don’t see the gun in Mama Zima’s hand until that hand rises, that gun firing. I wheel toward Paul and Brandon. Paul’s lunging to shield me, but the shot whizzes past. Orbec falls. I scoop up Brandon, who’s frozen. Paul shoves us both back through the still-open door. I’m running for cover when I realize Paul isn’t behind me. I wheel, nearly dropping Brandon. Paul’s there, slamming shut the dead bolt.

Outside, Mama Zima laughs. “Do you really think that’s going to help? Give me my grandson, and I’ll let you leave, but if I have to come in there after you . . .”

She doesn’t bother finishing the threat. I give Brandon to Paul and take out my gun as I yank open an interior door. Behind it, Lynn stumbles back through what looks like a living room. She has her hands raised.

“Pl-please, don’t—” she begins.

I shush her and whisper, “Where’s the basement?”

She points. So do I . . . with the gun, aiming it at her.

“Where exactly?” I say.

She tells me.

I shove her toward the sofa. “Hide there. Don’t come out.”

I race into the hall, where Paul’s waiting. Outside, Mama Zima is ordering her men to surround the house.

“Basement,” I call to Paul, then I shut the living room door . . . and hustle them to the stairs leading up instead.

Paul has Brandon in his arms. The boy hasn’t said a word. He’s spent his lifetime hiding, and he only peeks at me over Paul’s shoulder, and then buries his face in it as Paul whispers reassurances.

We get up the stairs just as the front door opens. Paul glances back at me, but I only motion for him to move farther down the hall. Then I stop him and start checking rooms. Below, I hear someone say, “It’s me.”

Lynn comes out from her hiding place and starts talking quickly to Mama Zima, telling her we’re in the basement. Is she ratting us out in hopes of winning her freedom? Or is she the one who brought Denis’s mother here? Either is equally likely, and I’m not the least bit surprised to hear her.

The third door opens to another staircase, ascending into a dark attic. I wave Paul over.

“Take him up there,” I whisper. “I’ll handle this.”

“I’ll find him a place to hide,” Paul says. “Then I’m coming to help you.”

I shake my head. He opens his mouth to protest, but I grip his arm.

“I have a gun,” I say. “You do not. I need you to stay with Brandon. Please. Call the police and stay with him.”