11:00 a.m.

Melanie dropped her head back against the soft leather headrest and let out a sigh of relief. Finally Jared was listening to reason. For a brief second she wished she could stay in the car and drive off with Andrew Kane, never mind that it meant certain capture and arrest. She just wanted an end to all this madness.

After following the long driveway, Jared insisted Andrew pull up to the house. The gravel snapped and popped against the bottom of the car despite the Saab slowing to a crawl. Rainwater had filled the tire ruts and the smooth luxury ride turned into a bumpy carnival ride.

Charlie started whistling the theme song from “Green Acres,” and Jared actually laughed before he told him to “shut the fuck up.”

Melanie tried to ignore them. She admired the farmhouse, a big two-story home. When she was a little girl growing up in a smelly roach-infested apartment, she had dreamed about living in a house like this with a long porch, though she would never have told Jared. He would have laughed at her and told her to stop dreaming. The porch even had a swing, the kind you saw in the movies with people sitting out on summer nights, sipping lemonade. This was a house that said, “Come in, make yourself at home, stay awhile.”

“How we gonna do this?” Charlie asked and Melanie could hear him already pulling his backpack from the floor.

“Everybody keep your mouths shut. I’ll handle it. That goes for you, too, Mr. Ordinary Citizen.”

Jared used the radio guy’s term as if it were an insult. Or, Melanie wondered, did he want to remind Andrew that he wasn’t a part of Jared’s team? Not that it mattered; she couldn’t help thinking there didn’t seem to be any perks to being on Jared’s team.

A farmer appeared from the side of the barn. He must have seen them coming up the driveway. He didn’t look at all like Melanie expected. Instead of overalls and a flannel shirt he wore blue jeans and a pale yellow oxford button-down. Instead of a straw hat or feed cap, he had on a red baseball cap.

“Hey, look, Andrew—” Jared pointed “—he has on the same fucking cap you have on.”

The farmer waved to them and started toward the car.

“Everybody fucking smile,” Jared told them.

Melanie heard a rustling from the back and glanced around just in time to see Jared removing the gun from his waistband. Her stomach lurched. She wanted to scream at the farmer to stop.

“Jared, what the hell are you doing?”

“Just smile, Melanie, and relax. Charlie, you take this.” And he slid the gun over to her son who didn’t hesitate in slipping it under his leg. “You stay with Andrew in the car. Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. Melanie, you and me need to use this guy’s phone.”

She didn’t have time to figure out Jared’s scheme. She was so relieved he wasn’t going to use the gun that she didn’t care what he asked her to do.

Jared pressed the button and the window slid down silently. It was too late for him to reprimand Andrew when he brought his window down, too.

“Morning,” Jared said in a friendly tone that Melanie recognized as fake. “We’re a bit lost. We’re supposed to help a friend move, but we can’t find his place. You mind if we use your phone to call him?”

“What’s his name? I know just about everybody around here.” The man stopped in between the two car windows, first glancing and nodding his head at Andrew, then turning to Jared.

“Actually, he just bought a place down here. We’re helping him move in.”

“That’s odd. I don’t know of any place that was up for sale. Know the name of the person he bought from?”

Melanie started twisting the hem of her blouse. This guy was screwing it all up. Why didn’t he just let them use the fucking phone?

“Gosh,” Jared said, “I really don’t know. All I know is we were supposed to be there an hour ago. He’s really gonna be pissed at us. You mind? I promise I’ll make it short. Your wife won’t mind, will she?”

“No, no. She’s off having her hair done. Her girlfriend picks her up every Thursday, and they spend the morning in town.”

“That’s real nice that you let her do that.”

“Let her?” The farmer laughed. “Son, if you think you have any control over what women do you’re in for a mighty big surprise. They have minds of their own. Isn’t that right, ma’am?” He bent down to look in at Melanie, and she smiled back at him, wanting to warn him not to fuck around with Jared.

“Come on in,” he finally said, standing up straight and waving a hand for them to follow.

Jared didn’t hesitate, opening the door and climbing out, but he turned to nod at Charlie and shoot Melanie a look of warning. She knew that look. It said, “Keep your mouth shut.”

Inside the kitchen Melanie took in everything, from the cute little plaques of hand-painted vegetables to the cheery yellow and white-checkered curtains. She found herself wanting to sit down at the table with a cup of coffee. She wanted to stay awhile.

The farmer pointed out the phone on the counter to Jared. At some point, both Melanie and the farmer had missed seeing Jared grab a butcher knife from the wooden block on the counter. Suddenly he had the man by the collar, the knife to his throat, forcing him into a chair.

“Get something to tie him up, Mel.”

She couldn’t move. Her knees threatened to give out. She stared at them, recognizing the surprise as well as the panic in the farmer’s wide brown eyes. That day so many years ago came back as if it was happening all over again. Jared holding her father from behind, his small arms wrapped around his thick neck, holding on despite the fact that his feet were dangling off the ground and her father’s arms were twisting and flailing, trying to grab onto Jared. “Get something to tie him up,” he had yelled at her. Only she couldn’t move then, either. She couldn’t believe they were actually going to do it. They had gone over their plan, again and again, plotting every night after one of the beatings. Sometimes Jared’s eyes would be so swollen Melanie would have to do the writing, despite her nose still bleeding, dripping down onto the small notebook where they hid their list of things they’d need. The list had never included the gun and yet somehow it had shown up that night.

“Melanie,” Jared yelled again. “Get that extension cord.”

Finally she spun around, looking behind her. She almost expected to find her father standing there, bloodied and dirty as if he had crawled his way out of the grave Jared had dug for him. But there were only yellow and white-checked curtains and a daisy suncatcher dangling from the curtain rod.

“Don’t make any funny moves, Mr. Farmer,” Jared told him. “We just need your car keys. We need to borrow your car.”

“Sure. No problem.” The man started to point, but stopped when Jared shoved the knife up under his chin. “Keys are hanging by the door. The ones with the Saint Christopher’s medallion.”

“Melanie.” Her brother’s voice took on that soothing tone. “Mel, get the keys and bring me that extension cord.”

It felt like a dream. A bad dream. Melanie stared at the trickle of blood that stained the farmer’s yellow collar. Her stomach started to churn. She tried to keep her mind focused. She tried to stay here, in this sunny kitchen instead of slipping back to that small, dingy kitchen from her past. So much blood—she could see it seeping into the cracks of the linoleum, cockroaches skittering through it.

“Melanie, the keys.”

She did what she was told, walking with spongy knees. They’d tie him up. They’d take the keys. She could do this step by step. She could get through this. She had done it before, she could do again. She’d focus and concentrate on what needed to be taken care of. And then she’d leave this warm, cozy kitchen and step back into her nightmare.