Her scream was agonizing.
Lucy’s face bunched with horror as tears popped over her lashes. Her mother writhed as she was dropped to the floor, clutching her leg. Squeezing her eyes shut, Lucy turned away and covered her ears, but it didn’t help. She could still hear everything.
“Stop it! Please,” Jack begged.
“Tell me what you have.”
Lucy could tell her father didn’t want to give an inch. She could feel his fight. Unable to help herself, she opened her eyes and peered back through the crack.
The man was running his hand through his white, blond hair with a frustrated sigh. He then pointed his gun at Edith’s other leg.
“Okay! Wait!” Jack raised his hands. “Files, okay. I have proof of the money trails. I know about your affiliation with the gang and I have evidence of the bribery.”
“Anything else.”
Lucy’s father paused. Licking his bottom lip, he shook his head.
“Good.” The man nodded.
The gun went off, eliciting another scream from Edith. Lucy couldn’t quite see what part of her anatomy he’d shot, but she was in serious pain. Her suffering was loud and heartbreaking.
“Stop it. Stop it!” Jack screamed.
“I want you to give it to me.” The man held out his hand.
“I can’t.” Jack’s voice shook. “I don’t have it on me.”
Pursing his lips, the man looked across the kitchen, trying to rein in his anger maybe. It was hard for Lucy to tell. His left eye twitched and the gun went off again. This time Edith’s head jerked to the side and her body went limp, her cries of pain silenced.
“NO! Edith!”
Lucy wanted to scream with her father, but she bit her lips together and held back the sobs. Terror was rippling through her body. She clutched the doorknob, keeping herself from tumbling down the basement stairs. She wanted to run for her life, but she couldn’t leave her father.
“Take me to it.”
“Go to hell!”
“Jack,” the man chided. “Is that any way to speak to an officer of the law?”
“You just killed my wife! I’m not giving you anything!”
Crouching down, the man grabbed Jack by the hair and jerked his head back. His pale eyes gleamed. “I know you have a daughter, too. She’s here, isn’t she?”
“No,” her father croaked.
“Don’t lie to me, Jack. I’m gonna find her and I’m gonna make her suffer until you tell me everything I want to know.”
“She’s not here.”
“Lucy?” The man shouted. “Lucy, honey, come into the kitchen.”
Lucy’s shoulders tensed, her muscles quivering as she stayed as still as possible behind the door.
“Come out, come out, where ever you are?” He sing-songed.
“She’s not here! And even if I did give you what you want, you can’t access it without me.”
“What do you mean?” Pale eyes narrowed in on Lucy’s father.
“You need me to gain access to those files.”
“You’ve put some bullshit encryption on them, haven’t you?”
Lucy waited for some kind of response, but her father wouldn’t budge.
“Damn it, Jack, you’re making my life hard today.”
Standing tall, he hauled Lucy’s father up and slammed him against the kitchen wall.
“Well, let me just go find Lucy and then we’ll head to your office and see if we can’t gain access to those files, okay?” Removing a pair of handcuffs, he moved to wrap them around Jack’s wrists when the beaten man suddenly pushed back, catching the intruder off guard.
They stumbled back together, crunching into the kitchen counter. Spinning in a rage, Jack lunged at his wife’s killer, wrestling for control of the gun. The man grunted, kicking at Jack’s legs. He fell with a crunch, but wouldn’t release the gun, pulling the man down with him.
Rolling across the floor, they continued to wrestle for control when suddenly the gun went off once more. Lucy flinched, going statue still as she waited for the winner to arise.
It wasn’t Jack Tate.
The attacker stood, his shirt now stained with another man’s blood.
Lucy covered her mouth, trying to muffle the sound of her rapid breathing.
The man stared down at the lifeless forms on the kitchen floor and swore.
Kicking Jack’s dead body, he cursed again.
“Lucy! Where are you!” His thundering voice ripped the frozen fear from Lucy’s belly, zapping her into action.
A jolt shot through her muscles. She scurried down the stairs, slipping on the last few and tumbling onto the hard concrete floor.
“Lucy! You can’t hide from me!”
Ignoring the pain, she scrambled to her feet and jumped onto the chest freezer. The terror pulsing through her system outweighed her spider phobia and she placed her hands on the window, pushing it with a grunt.
“Come on,” she whimpered. “Please open.”
“Lu-cy! Where are you?”