Chapter Seventeen
Cane could see the scene in the living room through the side window and his blood ran cold at what he saw. Steve, and who he took to be Aggie, were sitting on chairs, secured back-to-back with zip ties. Both were obviously out of commission if their bowed heads and limp bodies were any indication.
Another old man sat alone also with plastic ties securing him to a third chair. Cane scanned the room for Helen and found her on the floor holding a small toddler, crooning to it like one would with a small child to keep it quiet.
Not willing to barge in until he scouted more to see what was going on, he moved to the next room’s window which happened to be the kitchen, and his blood ran cold. There was a tall man with a crewcut, a wide face full of acne and bushy eyebrows emphasizing his cold expression and hate-filled eyes.
The asshole held a gun which he waved loosely towards a pretty, young woman.
Her dark hair piled on her head was held by a large clip, and her face, blotched from tears and swollen on one side from being slapped or punched, appeared terrified.
One could see some deep cuts where her blood had dried and more bruises on her arms where her T-shirt had been torn away.
And from the marks on her throat and cheek, and the way she limped, one might wonder if she’d been sexually abused.
Also, on the bottom of her legs that showed past her cutoffs more dried blood appeared, hopefully from the deep cuts and scrapes and not from being mauled by a madman. The scene made Cane’s blood run cold.
“Stop sniveling or I swear I’ll hurt that whiny kid of yours. Just cook the Goddamn lunch already. How hard can that be?”
The terrified girl dropped the pan she’d been fetching and crouched to retrieve it. “Look, I’m sorry. You-you’re scaring me on purpose, waving that stupid gun around like that. And can you please stop yelling? I’m working as fast as I can.”
Her eyes lifted in his direction and when she spotted Cane at the window, without thinking, she let out a shriek of surprise.
Catching on quickly, the gunman swiveled to see what had caught her eye and spoke commandingly. “Whoever’s out there, get in here now, or I’ll shoot the bitch.”
Cane had no intention of going to the back of the house to bring attention to Raven, and so he zipped up his jacket, lifted the old-fashioned window, and climbed in that way. “Cool your jets, man. I was just coming to see if I could borrow your boat.”
“Yeah, then why sneak around the place like a thief?”
Cane pretended to be caught off guard. Hesitating on purpose, pretending guilt, he whined, “Place looked deserted, man. Figured no one would miss anything if I helped myself. You know how it is. We gotta look after ourselves in a storm like we had.” His fake swagger got him further into the room.
The gunman stared at Cane, sizing him up before he broke into peals of laughter that sounded more like the grunting of a hog. “Fuck me, you’re a looter.”
Pretending to be mad for being accused of a crime, Cane pointed at the gun and sneered, “Yeah, so what? You doin’ worse, holding up these folks.
Me, I was just gonna steal from ‘em… not hurt ‘em.” Pretending to be uneducated and down on his luck, he strutted over to the fridge and looked inside. “Bro, I’m starving.”
While staring at the food, Cane prayed that Raven would catch on that they had a problem when he didn’t appear. Even though he knew she held a badge, and knew how to deal with her weapon, he hoped she’d hold off doing anything until he’d had more time to stake out the situation.
By heading for the fridge, he’d meant to keep the gunman’s attention on him and not the window. Because he had no doubt, he’d be seeing movement there soon.
He rifled through the contents on purpose while still carrying on a conversation. “Hey bud, you said the chick was going to cook some food. How about I can join you?”
“How about you help her. She’s as useless as tits on a bull.”
“Cool. I’m Cane by the way. What’ll I call you?”
“Dale’s my name and killin’s my game.” Laughing as if he cut a good joke, he rubbed his razor short blond hair with the muzzle of his gun.
Cane couldn’t help but notice that his terrible skin – pasty white like an old man’s – seemed shocking in one so young.
Worse, when he looked up, he stared right through you with dead eyes blacker than marble.
The sores on his face made one wonder if he’d done too many drugs and they’d taken to eating his flesh from the inside.
Finally, he yawned. “Hurry and get busy.”
Cane breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been sure the killer would accept his portrayal of a lowlife, but he was certain the girl hadn’t from the piercing stare she’d given him.
“Okay, Dale. Look, I know how to fry eggs for sandwiches.” He grabbed a bowl filled with them.
“Bet they got lots of ‘em… you know, because of the chickens out in the henhouse.” On purpose, he grinned sheepishly. “I took a look around the joint. It’s a fine property… isolated, yeah? A guy could hang out for a while.”
“Kinda what I had in mind.” The assassin sat on one of the high stools and leaned against the island.
“How about you get started. Like you said a few minutes ago, a guy could starve around here… especially with the likes of Val here whining about everything. And after what I did for her. No appreciation at all for getting rid of her loser boyfriend.”
“Chrissakes Dale, I told you. That man wasn’t my boyfriend. He hijacked me and Bonnie when he stole my car.”
“Yeah, it’s why we nicknamed him Brick cause his head was hard like one and no brains inside.
I told him to get a car. And what does he come back with?
A whole family for fuck’s sake. Now I gotta clean up his mess.
” Dale lunged toward her as if he would grab or hit her but then he stopped and laughed at her panic.
“Christ Almighty, just get the food ready, will ya? I’m getting testy from hunger here. ”
Cane moved to the corner and turned his back to take his jacket off without revealing his badge and gun. Careful to untuck his flannel shirt from under his belt so it would cover both issues, he rolled up his sleeves and dug in.
While keeping a watch on the window, he swung a frying pan from where it hung from the ceiling and lifted the butter dish from the counter. “Any bacon and tomatoes?”
Val slipped closer and handed him a huge bowl filled with ripe tomatoes that looked better than any he ever saw in a grocery store.
Then she brought him a pound of bacon and began to organize another pan to cook it in.
Soon, the smells filled the space, and the room seemed to get lighter as the sun began to peep out from behind the dark rain clouds.
Keeping an eye on the window, he worried about how Raven would deal with his disappearance. That’s why he missed seeing the bedroom door slowly moving.