“That’s just access to the battery,” Honor said, knowing that Emily would be traumatized to see Elmo disemboweled. “Please.”
He examined the inside of the toy, even removed the batteries and checked beneath them, but, eventually, satisfied that the toy wasn’t concealing anything, he closed it up and returned it to Emily.
Honor continued reading. The bedtime story reached its happ’ly-ever-after conclusion. Honor listened to Emily’s bedtime prayer, kissed both her cheeks, and then hugged her extra close, prolonging the embrace because she feared that this might be the last time she would tuck her daughter in for the night.
She tried to preserve the moment, seal it inside her heart and mind, memorize the smell and feel of Emily’s sweet little body, which felt incredibly small, fragile, and vulnerable. Maternal love pierced her heart.
But eventually she had to let go. She eased Emily back onto her pillow and forced herself to leave the room. Coburn was lurking in the hallway just outside the door. As she pulled it shut, she looked up into the unfeeling mask of his face.
“If you… do something to me, please don’t let her see. She’s no threat to you. No purpose would be served by harming her. She—”
A cell phone rang.
Determining that it was hers, he took it from his pocket, glanced at the readout, and passed it to her. “Same as before. Put it on speaker. Find out what you can about the hunt for me, but don’t make it obvious.”
She answered with, “Hi, Stan.”
“How are you feeling? Emily okay?”
“You know how kids are. They bounce back from these things quicker than adults do.”
“The party still on for tomorrow night, then?”
“Of course.” Looking into Coburn’s bloodshot eyes, she asked, “Any news about the fugitive?”
“He’s still on the loose, but it’s only a matter of time. He’s been out there going on twenty-four hours. He’s either already dead or weakened to the point of being easy prey.”
He told her about the stolen boat and the place at which Coburn had launched it. “Dozens of boats are searching the waterways and will be through the night. The whole area is crawling with lawmen.”
“But if he has a boat—”
“Not a very reliable one from what I understand. Nobody thinks it will get him far.”
“It might have sunk already,” Honor ventured.
“Then unless he sunk with it, they’ll pick up his trail. They’ve got excellent trackers and dogs going over solid ground.”
He urged her to rest well, then they said good night and signed off. As Coburn took the phone from her, she felt disheartened. Stan’s news didn’t bode well for her and Emily. As Coburn’s chances of escape dwindled, so did theirs.
But rather than reveal the desperation she felt, she played up the hopelessness of his situation. “Instead of tearing into the walls of my house, why don’t you get out of the area while you can? Take my car. Between now and daylight, you could cover—”
Her words came to an abrupt halt when she heard the throaty growl of a small motor, getting closer, growing louder. She spun away from Coburn and bolted toward the living room.
But if Coburn’s reflexes had been slowed by exhaustion, they were boosted by the sound of the motorboat. He was on her before she got halfway across the room. One arm closed around her waist like a pincer and hauled her up against him as his other hand clamped down hard over her mouth.
“Don’t go stupid on me now, Honor,” he whispered in her ear. “Get out there before they reach the porch. Talk loud enough for me to hear. If I sense that you’re trying to send them a signal, I won’t hesitate to act. Remember that I’m ‘prey’ to them, so I’ve got nothing to lose. Before you get cute, think about me standing over your daughter’s bed.”
The boat’s motor was now idling. She saw lights dancing through the trees, heard masculine voices.
“You got it?” he repeated, shaking her slightly.
She nodded.
Gradually he released her and withdrew his hand from her mouth. She turned around to face him. She gasped, “I beg you, don’t hurt her.”
“It’s up to you.”
He spun her around and prodded her lower spine with the barrel of the pistol. “Go.”