he pictured her at her stove cooking up one of her many drool-worthy dishes. She’d loved cooking, baking, creating new foods that were state-fair blue-ribbon quality. He scanned the counters, imagining the cookie jar and cake stand full of her latest indulgent dessert. He’d definitely eaten well while he’d dated Helen.
He spied a glass hummingbird figurine on the windowsill over her sink and went to pick it up. He’d given her the hummingbird for her birthday the first year they’d been dating. She’d fawned over it in a gift shop when they’d gone hiking at Rocky Mountain National Park, and he’d doubled back to the shop without her knowing to buy it. One of the few romantic gestures he’d ever done for her. His lungs tightened with grief when he thought of the bright smile she’d given him when she opened the gift. Why hadn’t he tried harder to make her that happy all the time?
He would keep the hummingbird, he decided, as evidence that he hadn’t been a complete heel and a reminder of one of their better days. As he reached for the figurine, he noticed odd stains in the sink. The spots looked like...blood. Frowning, he followed the trail of drips from the sink toward the hall. Another line of blood spots went from the sink toward the back door. And there, on the door frame, was a smear of red. What the...?
A prickling uneasiness skittered up his spine. He moved to the back door to get a closer look at the smudge and, through the decorative glass door, he noticed a familiar-looking car parked behind the house. A sedan that seemed to be held together by rust and prayers.
With his next breath, he connected the dots and remembered where he’d seen the battered sedan...
And horror constricted his lungs.
He spun to run to the bedroom, to get Lilly out of the house before—
A chilling scream ricocheted down the hall, and Dave knew.
Once again, he was too late.
Steeling himself, Dave slid one of Helen’s best knives from the butcher’s block. He sent up a silent prayer as he moved as quickly and quietly as he could down the hall toward the master bedroom. He pressed his back to the wall. Stopped outside the bedroom and leaned sideways to peer around the door frame.
“I know you’re out there, man,” a voice said from inside the room, along with Lilly’s muted whimpers of fear. “Get in here, before I blast a hole in this one’s pretty head.”
Dave hesitated. Did he dare? Was following the robber’s demands his best move, or was there some better course of action he couldn’t see?
He touched his pocket in search of his cell phone, and his heart sank as he remembered he’d left it his truck, charging. He mouthed a vile word. His thoughts were scattered, adrenaline hiking his pulse and blood thundering in his ears. He only had a knife. The cretin had a gun, one he’d been quick to use at the bank.
“Do it, man! I swear to you, I’ll shoot her!”
Dave believed him.
Sticking the knife in his jeans at the small of his back and covering it with his shirt, he raised his hands and crept into the bedroom. His eyes went first to Lilly, wanting to assure himself she was unharmed. She stood trembling, at the business end of the robber’s gun, and her terrified eyes pleaded with Dave for help. He gave her a small nod, trying to reassure her he’d do whatever he could.
He shifted his attention to the robber, sizing him up with a rapid up-and-down glance, then a closer scrutiny of the punk’s face. The robber from the bank had shed the black hoodie, his countenance now fully visible. He was younger than Dave had estimated when he talked to the cops after the robbery. Midtwenties maybe. Large ears. Extremely short brown hair. Rounded nose. Acne scars. A wan complexion. His expression was pinched, his face sweating despite the cool temperature in the house. His breathing was shallow, fast.
“Well, well,” the gunman said, curling his lip. “If it ain’t Mr. Hero from the bank.”
Remembering the blood he’d seen in the kitchen, Dave dropped his gaze briefly to the dark stain on the man’s side, just under his arm. Pain, then. That’d explain the guy’s pale appearance and rapid breathing. Dave had a brief moment of self-satisfaction, knowing one of his shots at the bank had hit the robber.
When the thief’s glare narrowed on him, any smugness vanished. The robber had the upper hand now, and Dave could only pray he wouldn’t be vengeful. And what were the odds of that mercy?
“Get in here!” The thug jerked his head toward the bathroom door. “Get the belt from that robe and bring it here. Hurry up!”
Dave glanced at the bathrobe in question, a light blue silky number. Lilly’s he’d wager, since he was certain he’d never seen it on Helen. Again he hesitated, hating to comply but seeing no option while the guy had a gun on Lilly.
Maybe before he’d hurt his leg he’d have felt more confident in his ability to overtake the robber, but his bum leg slowed him considerably. When he didn’t move for a couple seconds, the robber swung the gun toward him and fired into the wall just inches from his head.
Lilly screamed, and tears spilled onto her cheeks. “Do what he says, Dave. Please.”
“Yeah, Dave,” the guy mocked. “Do what I say. I can’t promise no one will get hurt, but it’s still the wiser choice.”
Expelling a harsh breath and trying to keep his back and any evidence of the knife facing away from the robber, Dave moved slowly to the robe. He removed the belt and carried it to the robber.
In a move Dave had been unprepared for, the robber dropped his grip on Lilly and shoved the gun under Dave’s chin instead. “Now hand her the belt.”
He did.
Lilly took the silky strip of fabric and swallowed audibly.
Keeping the weapon trained on Dave’s head, the robber eased behind him, yanked up Dave’s shirt and pulled the knife from Dave’s jeans. He scoffed, “Nice try, Hero, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”
He tossed aside the knife, and it clattered as it fell onto the linoleum floor of the bathroom.
“Now, you,—” he looked to Lilly “—tie his hands behind him.”
Lilly met Dave’s eyes, as if asking what she should do. The robber noticed her hesitation, her subtle eye consultation, and shouted, “I’m not playing around here, lady! If either of you tries something, I will shoot you both in a heartbeat and lose no sleep over it. Now, move!”
She edged past Dave and gave his hand a squeeze before pulling his wrists together. He kept his arms slightly apart, allowing for some slack in the belt as she wrapped it loosely.
Dave heard the robber huff a frustrated breath. “What did I just say?”
When neither of them answered him, he yelled, “What did I just say?”
Lilly gasped and whispered, “I... I’m not—”
“No tricks! Tie him tighter.”
“It’s
