CHAPTER 5 — THE NIGHT VINCE CAME BACK
I covered Ethan’s mouth before he could scream.
The pantry smelled like flour, canned soup, and the cinnamon candles Lauren stored on the top shelf. I could hear Vince breathing on the other side of the door.
“Chloe,” he repeated softly. “I know you’re in there.”
The knob moved again.
Lauren had locked it, but the small latch was designed to keep children out, not grown men.
Ethan’s tears soaked into my palm.
I leaned close to his ear.
“Be quiet,” I whispered. “Mom needs us to be brave.”
Outside, Lauren said, “Get out of my house.”
Vince laughed.
“You always were the loud sister.”
“What did you do to the officer?”
“He’ll wake up.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t care what you believe.”
The poker scraped across the kitchen floor as Lauren shifted her stance.
“What do you want?”
“The bag.”
“What bag?”
“The one Rachel hid.”
“It’s with the police.”
Silence.
Then Vince’s voice changed.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.”
“David said Rachel kept copies.”
My mind raced.
The canvas bag contained copied documents, but I did not know whether Mom had hidden anything else.
Vince struck the pantry door with his fist.
Ethan jumped.
“I don’t have it!” Lauren shouted.
“You took something from the house.”
“Police took everything.”
“You think I won’t hurt you because the kids are here?”
Lauren did not answer.
A loud crash followed.
The pantry door shook as bodies collided outside. Lauren screamed. Metal struck tile.
I released Ethan and pulled out my phone.
There was no signal.
Vince must have disabled the house Wi-Fi, and the cedar trees made cell reception weak even on normal days.
I searched the shelves in the darkness.
Lauren’s pantry had a narrow window above the lower cabinets. It was barely large enough for Ethan.
I moved a bag of rice and lifted him onto the counter.
“You have to climb outside.”
He shook his head violently.
“I want to stay with you.”
“You’re going to find help.”
“I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
Another crash came from the kitchen.
I pushed the window open.
Rain entered immediately.
“Go to Mrs. Bennett’s house through the trees. Bang on the door until she wakes up.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll come right after you.”
It was a lie.
He knew it.
I kissed his forehead and helped him squeeze through the opening. His pajama shirt caught on the frame. I pulled it free, and he dropped into the wet grass outside.
“Run,” I whispered.
His small shape disappeared between the trees.
The pantry door burst open.
Vince stood in the doorway.
Blood ran from a cut beside his eyebrow. He held the fireplace poker in one hand.
Behind him, Lauren lay against the cabinets, struggling to move.
“Where’s the boy?” he demanded.
I backed toward the window.
“Gone.”
He grabbed my wrist.
“You think you’re clever?”
His breath smelled like cigarettes and rain.
I kicked him in the shin.
He tightened his grip until pain shot through my arm.
“You ruined everything when you made that call.”
“No. You ruined everything when you came into our house.”
His face twisted.
“You sound like her.”
“Good.”
He pulled me into the kitchen.
Lauren’s face was bleeding, but her eyes were open. She tried to stand.
Vince raised the poker.
“Stay down.”
“What do you want from Chloe?” Lauren asked.
“She knows where Rachel put the second recording.”
I stared at him.
“What second recording?”
He watched my face closely.
“You really don’t know.”
The relief in his expression lasted less than a second.
Then he dragged me toward the back door.
Lauren lunged and wrapped both arms around his leg.
Vince kicked her in the shoulder.
I grabbed a heavy glass jar from the counter and smashed it against the side of his head.
He released me.
The poker hit the floor.
Lauren shoved me toward the hallway.
“Run!”
We reached the living room before Vince tackled her from behind.
She fell hard.
I turned back, but Lauren screamed at me to keep moving.
The front door was only a few feet away.
Then I saw the patrol officer outside.
He lay on the porch steps, one side of his head bleeding.
His radio rested beneath the railing.
I crawled through the open doorway and grabbed it.
“Officer down!” I shouted. “Vince Carter is inside!”
Static answered.
Then a dispatcher’s voice came through.
“Identify your location.”
I screamed Lauren’s address.
Vince appeared behind me.
He seized the back of my sweater and dragged me inside.
The radio slid across the porch.
“You just don’t learn,” he said.
Police sirens sounded in the distance.
Ethan had reached the neighbor.
Vince heard them too.
He looked toward the kitchen, calculating.
Then he pulled a folding knife from his pocket.
“You’re coming with me.”
He held the blade against my side and forced me toward the garage. Lauren followed, barely able to walk.
“Take me,” she said. “Let Chloe go.”
“No.”
“She doesn’t know anything.”
“She knows enough to testify.”
He opened the garage door manually and shoved me toward his truck, which had been hidden behind the cedar trees.
Red and blue lights appeared at the far end of the street.
Vince cursed.
Lauren grabbed the garage remote and pressed the button.
The door began descending.
Vince pushed me forward and tried to duck beneath it. Lauren threw herself at him from behind.
The knife moved.
She gasped.
For one terrible second, no one moved.
Then Lauren collapsed.
Blood spread across the front of her shirt.
I screamed and dropped beside her.
Vince ran.
He disappeared into the trees just before officers surrounded the house.
Jessica arrived moments later. She found me pressing both hands against Lauren’s wound while repeating the instructions a dispatcher had once given Mom after another emergency.
Apply pressure.
Do not remove your hands.
Keep speaking to her.
“Look at me,” I begged. “You’re not allowed to leave.”
Lauren’s eyes fluttered.
“Ethan?”
“He got help.”
A weak smile appeared.
“Smart boy.”
Paramedics rushed in and lifted her onto a stretcher.
The officer on the porch was alive. Vince had struck him with a metal flashlight, but his injuries were not considered life-threatening.
Lauren’s wound was more serious.
As the ambulance pulled away, Jessica wrapped a coat around me.
“You saved her life,” she said.
“I let Ethan go outside alone.”
“You got him to safety.”
“I hit Vince.”
“You survived.”
The police searched the woods until sunrise.
Vince escaped.
Inside the house, detectives found his abandoned backpack. It contained cash, false identification, bolt cutters, and a handwritten list of addresses.
Lauren’s house was first.
The hospital was second.
My school was third.
At the bottom of the list, someone had written:
MERCER — SAFEHOUSE IF NEEDED.
Deputy Mercer was arrested before noon.
He denied helping Vince. He claimed the address referred to a vacation cabin they had once used for hunting.
Jessica did not believe him.
Neither did I.
Lauren survived surgery, but doctors kept her in intensive care.
Mom was still hospitalized on another floor.
For the first time, both women who had tried to protect us were lying in hospital beds because of the same men.
Child services placed Ethan and me temporarily with a foster family named the Parkers. They lived near Beaverton and had two older children away at college.
Mrs. Parker prepared macaroni and cheese because Ethan said it was his favorite.
He did not eat.
That night, he asked me whether bad people always came back.
I told him no.
But I locked the bedroom door anyway.
At 10:03 p.m., Jessica called Mrs. Parker.
Police had searched Mercer’s hunting cabin.
Vince was not there.
But they found a burned pile of documents behind the building, along with photographs taken outside Lauren’s house and Mom’s hospital room.
One photograph showed me entering the hospital.
Another showed Ethan playing in Lauren’s backyard.
The final photograph was older.
It had been taken through our kitchen window six months earlier.
Mom stood beside the table, handing an envelope to a man whose face was partly hidden.
On the back, someone had written:
RACHEL’S REAL PARTNER.
May you like
I recognized the man’s jacket.
It belonged to Officer Marcus Vance.
