she ran into the kitchen and picked up the phone. She desperately needed to know what happened to Gary, but she also needed to know that this was a real police officer at her door.
No dial tone.
She tapped the plunger several times to make sure.
She'd tried to call Gary less than fifteen minutes ago. The phone had been working fine all weekend, and now, as soon as a strange man showed up on her doorstep, it stopped.
"Ma'am, I can't emphasize strongly enough how important it is for you to let me in. I understand your need for safety precautions, and under other circumstances I would praise you for this kind of behavior, but Gary has been seriously injured, and he may be dying as we speak, and I urgently need to bring you to the hospital."
"I'll be outside in one minute," she said. "I'll meet you in your car."
"Goddamn it, lady, your husband is gonna die !"
It was all Rebecca could do to hold in the scream. This was no cop.
But he knew Gary's name. Maybe he'd killed him.
Stop thinking that !
Her cell phone was in her purse. Where the hell had she left it when she came home? For a split second her mind went blank.
Kitchen counter. Right next to her.
The man pounded on the door, but only a couple of times. Then there was a crash from the living room. Glass breaking. The alarm went off.
Rebecca grabbed her purse from the counter, snatched her keys from the hook, then opened the door to the garage, praying that the phony cop wouldn't hear her over the alarm and would waste time looking elsewhere in the house.
She hurried into the garage, got into the car, slid the key into the ignition, and turned on the engine--simple actions that felt like they took forever. She pressed the button to start the automatic garage door opener. In the movies, people could drive right through closed garage doors, but in real life she'd probably end up with a destroyed vehicle.
The garage door began to rise, moving at a slow speed that was excruciating to watch. She locked the car doors.
She put the car in reverse then tightly clenched the steering wheel as she waited for the garage door to lift enough to drive underneath.
The door to the kitchen flew open.
The man pointed a gun at her.
She ducked down as far as she could and slammed her foot on the accelerator. The car shot backward, the roof scraping against the bottom of the rising garage door.
A gunshot rang out. The windshield didn't explode into chunks of safety glass and no blood jettisoned from her neck, so he didn't appear to have hit the vehicle.
But with the second shot the car swerved out of control. He'd definitely hit a tire.
The third shot hit another tire and the car jerked to the right, smashing sideways into a tree. The airbag deployed. She frantically put the car into drive and stomped on the gas pedal, but the car wouldn't move.
Rebecca flinched at the loud tap on the driver's side window. The man stood there, pointing the gun at her.
"Turn the engine off," he demanded.
She floored the gas pedal again, but the car still wasn't going anywhere, so she reluctantly took her foot away and turned off the engine.
Shit...
"Open the door," he said. He spoke very slowly and carefully, as if straining to keep his fury under control.
Since all he'd have to do is shoot through the window and unlock it himself, she opened the door.
"Get out of the car. Now."
"Please don't hurt me, I--"
" Now ! You've wasted enough of my time already! And you damn well better hope your neighbors don't show up."
Not taking her eyes off the man, she eased her way out of the car. His eyes, which never left her, were bloodshot and filled with rage.
"How do you shut that alarm off?"
"I can't."
"Lie to me again and I'll shoot your fucking teeth out. How do you shut it off?"
"I have to put in the keycode."
"So do it."
He gave her a violent shove and they hurried into the garage. The alarm keypad was mounted on the wall. As Rebecca reached for it, the man pressed his gun to the back of
No dial tone.
She tapped the plunger several times to make sure.
She'd tried to call Gary less than fifteen minutes ago. The phone had been working fine all weekend, and now, as soon as a strange man showed up on her doorstep, it stopped.
"Ma'am, I can't emphasize strongly enough how important it is for you to let me in. I understand your need for safety precautions, and under other circumstances I would praise you for this kind of behavior, but Gary has been seriously injured, and he may be dying as we speak, and I urgently need to bring you to the hospital."
"I'll be outside in one minute," she said. "I'll meet you in your car."
"Goddamn it, lady, your husband is gonna die !"
It was all Rebecca could do to hold in the scream. This was no cop.
But he knew Gary's name. Maybe he'd killed him.
Stop thinking that !
Her cell phone was in her purse. Where the hell had she left it when she came home? For a split second her mind went blank.
Kitchen counter. Right next to her.
The man pounded on the door, but only a couple of times. Then there was a crash from the living room. Glass breaking. The alarm went off.
Rebecca grabbed her purse from the counter, snatched her keys from the hook, then opened the door to the garage, praying that the phony cop wouldn't hear her over the alarm and would waste time looking elsewhere in the house.
She hurried into the garage, got into the car, slid the key into the ignition, and turned on the engine--simple actions that felt like they took forever. She pressed the button to start the automatic garage door opener. In the movies, people could drive right through closed garage doors, but in real life she'd probably end up with a destroyed vehicle.
The garage door began to rise, moving at a slow speed that was excruciating to watch. She locked the car doors.
She put the car in reverse then tightly clenched the steering wheel as she waited for the garage door to lift enough to drive underneath.
The door to the kitchen flew open.
The man pointed a gun at her.
She ducked down as far as she could and slammed her foot on the accelerator. The car shot backward, the roof scraping against the bottom of the rising garage door.
A gunshot rang out. The windshield didn't explode into chunks of safety glass and no blood jettisoned from her neck, so he didn't appear to have hit the vehicle.
But with the second shot the car swerved out of control. He'd definitely hit a tire.
The third shot hit another tire and the car jerked to the right, smashing sideways into a tree. The airbag deployed. She frantically put the car into drive and stomped on the gas pedal, but the car wouldn't move.
Rebecca flinched at the loud tap on the driver's side window. The man stood there, pointing the gun at her.
"Turn the engine off," he demanded.
She floored the gas pedal again, but the car still wasn't going anywhere, so she reluctantly took her foot away and turned off the engine.
Shit...
"Open the door," he said. He spoke very slowly and carefully, as if straining to keep his fury under control.
Since all he'd have to do is shoot through the window and unlock it himself, she opened the door.
"Get out of the car. Now."
"Please don't hurt me, I--"
" Now ! You've wasted enough of my time already! And you damn well better hope your neighbors don't show up."
Not taking her eyes off the man, she eased her way out of the car. His eyes, which never left her, were bloodshot and filled with rage.
"How do you shut that alarm off?"
"I can't."
"Lie to me again and I'll shoot your fucking teeth out. How do you shut it off?"
"I have to put in the keycode."
"So do it."
He gave her a violent shove and they hurried into the garage. The alarm keypad was mounted on the wall. As Rebecca reached for it, the man pressed his gun to the back of
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