KAREN
I fight through the sharp pain at the back of my head and force my eyes to open.
It’s dark, the only light shining on me is a little bright circle, and I blink, squinting.
The lights in the house suddenly come on, making the kitchen around me pop into focus. With a grunt, I try to prop myself up into a sitting position. Sharp pain prickles me at the back of my head, and I wince, going still, trying to fight through it.
“What is going on?” I whisper, looking around.
“Oh, thank god. You are fine. What the hell did you do, you old duck?”
I raise my eyes to see Donna crouching beside me. “What are you doing here?”
The kitchen door swings open, and Rika runs in, stops next to us, and gapes at me. “Oh, good. She’s fine.”
“Did you fall?” Donna asks, helping me to my feet. “Does anything hurt?”
I sway, dizzy. Slowly, an image comes back to me—Mallory Blain, scowling at me, in my kitchen, asking in her mocking voice, “Still kicking?” Then everything went dark.
“Mallory Blain was here,” I say meekly, holding on to a chair as Donna holds on to me like I’m about to fall. “She was here. Right here. Birdie… Then everything went dark.”
“Rika couldn’t get a hold of Josie,” Donna says. “You were supposed to have dinner.”
“Dinner,” I murmur, looking around. The chopped-up vegetables are still on the kitchen counter. “Josie? Where’s Josie?”
“Her phone is off,” Rika says.
“What was Mallory Blain doing here?” Donna asks. “Karen, you have blood at the back of your head. What happened?”
We all look at each other, and all of us think the same thing at the same time.
“Oh, god,” Rika blurts.
“I knew it,” Donna rasps. “Rika, help her to the chair. I’ll call the paramedics.”
“No, no…” I protest. “We have to find Josie.”
“We’ll find Josie,” Donna assures me, already dialing someone. “Chief? I need you here ASAP. Mallory Blain was at Karen’s house. I think she assaulted Karen. Josie’s missing. We need an ambulance.”
“She did something,” I say to Donna as she hangs up. “D, that woman has something to do with it all. We were wrong. We were so wrong. Josie is in trouble.”
“Mallory Blain?” Rika asks. “The kidnapped woman?”
Donna curses under her breath. “The chief said things didn’t add up with the kidnapping.
Someone saw her car in town the day she was discovered, when she was supposedly in the basement.
They found a folding knife behind the pipe, which means she could’ve freed herself.
She refused surveillance. Refused medical exams. And she was a witness at the trial years ago. ”
“You think…” Rika doesn’t finish the sentence but exchanges looks with Donna.
Donna nudges me toward the chair. “Sit down, K. You might have a concussion.”
I shake my head and put my palm against her. “D, this time…” I sway and almost fall when Donna catches me again in her arms. “This time, we have to do this by the book. Get the chief and the team ready.”
“I got it, K.”
“No, no, no. Here. Help me to the bedroom.”
Donna leads me to my bedroom, to the big antique wardrobe with my old clothes. “Open it,” I order. “Move the clothes to the side.” She does, pushing the coats aside, revealing several boxes with handguns and ammo, a rifle, and a shotgun.
“Whoa.” Rika gives a low whistle behind me. “Karen’s Narnia.”
Young people with their precious water bottles, cell phone arms, and lack of patience—what would they know about self-defense?
“Take what you need,” I say. “And you’ll need this.”
There’s loud banging on the door outside. “Donna! Karen?”
The chief storms into the bedroom, but there’s no need to hide my stash—he knows all about it. Wardrobes like this are more common than anyone thinks in these parts. Donna has one, but there’s no time for her to get to it.
“Pass me the small black box,” I say, pointing at the one that holds my thirty-eight.
Suddenly, the room spins around me, and I fall, only for several pairs of hands to catch me midway through the air and land me softly on my bed.
“You are not going anywhere, old bird,” the chief says. “Rika, you stay here,” he orders. “Wait for the ambulance. Donna, you’re coming with me.”
The police radio beep cuts through the air. “Chief, we are ready,” the voice says on the radio.
“Coming,” the chief answers.
Everything floats in and out of focus as I try to get up, but Rika’s hands gently hold me down.
“You’ll need backup.” I force the words out, which is an effort.
“I know, K. I know,” the chief says. “We’re going to Mallory Blain’s grandparents’ farm. We already tapped that location. That’s our best bet. No more self-served justice, K. This time, we’re on this. Whatever happens, she’ll pay.”
They storm out, and I meet Rika’s eyes, which are full of worry and pity. God, do I hate pity. But I like this girl.
“Mrs. Boots, you’ll be fine. Josie will be fine. It’s going to be all right.”
She takes a seat on the edge of my bed and takes my hand in hers.
Most younglings are full of optimism, not knowing how brutal and unfair life can be. But I don’t tell her that.
“You…” I fight a bout of dizziness. “If anything happens to me,” I whisper, “you stick with Josie.”
“I know, Mrs. Boots. I will.”
“She is a good girl. So are you. You two, you stick together.”
She nods. “Sure will.”
“You look like your mom,” I say with a smile.
Josie looks like Alysha. But these two are nothing like their mamas.
They are nothing like their father either.