"Stop it!" Cate flared, whirling to face him, an unreasoning anger burning through the panic. "You're just making things more difficult. Do you want the damn suitcase or not?" Her own voice sounded distant to her, the tone oddly familiar. With a faint sense of shock, she realized it was the same tone she used with the boys when they became too unruly.
The man stared back at her, no expression in his eyes. "Keep moving."
"You stop shoving before you make us all break our necks!"
There was no color at all in Neenah's face, even her lips were white, and her eyes were so wide that white showed around the blue irises. She must have wondered what Cate had been thinking, snapping at the man who was grinding a gun barrel into her temple, but still not even a whimper escaped her. Oh, God, Cate thought in despair, what on earth was she doing? Without another word she turned around and began climbing again, but at least the brief surge of anger had steadied her knees.
At the top of the stairs she turned to the right and led the way to the dark end of the hall, and the door to the attic stairs. They might be killed up here, she thought as her blood turned to ice water at the thought. The delay in finding their bodies would give Mellor and his pal plenty of time to get away.
What would happen to her babies if she were killed? They wouldn't lack for love; her parents would take them, or Patrick and Andie, even though they were expecting their own baby now, but their lives would be forever scarred by violence. How much would they remember her? In ten years, would they have any memories of her at all? Would they ever truly realize how much she loved them?
Damn Jeffrey Layton for bringing this to her house! she thought with fierce, sudden violence. If she ever got her hands on him, she would choke him to death.
Laboriously they made their way up the steep, narrow attic stairs. His eyes narrowed, Mellor surveyed the crowded space as he pushed Neenah forward. "Where is it?"
"Here." Cate went to the suitcase and pulled it out. She started to tell him that whatever he was looking for, he was wasting his time, because there was nothing in the suitcase except clothing, but she choked the words back. Maybe it was better to let him think he had what he wanted. Maybe he wouldn't kill them; maybe he'd leave her and Neenah up here and leave.
Gripping the handle of the suitcase, she turned to face him, and froze.
Calvin Harris stood at the top of the stairs, a shotgun raised to his shoulder as he aimed directly at the back of Mellor's head.
Cate jerked back, her head banging against the top of the sloping ceiling as she instinctively tried to get out of the line of lire.
Alerted by her actions, Mellor swung around, taking Neenah with him.
"Let her go," the handyman said calmly. The big weapon in his hands was as steady as a rock, his cheek nestled against the stock, and the eyes she had previously thought of as "washed out" were as pale and cold as ice.
Mellor smiled a little. "That's a shotgun. You kill me, you kill the women, too. Not a good choice of weapon."
Calvin's smile matched Mellor's. "Except it's loaded with a slug, not shot. At this distance, it'll take your head off and not touch Neenah at all."
"Yeah, sure. Put the shotgun down, or she's dead."
"Analyze the situation," Calvin said softly. "Your buddy isn't coming up those stairs to help. You can get off a shot, yeah, but not in time to stop me from pulling the trigger. I use this shotgun for deer hunting, so believe me when I say it's loaded with slugs instead of pellets. You might get me, you might get Neenah, but the bottom line is you'll be dead, too. So we can either have two dead people, or everyone can live and you get your buddy and get out of here."
"You can have the suitcase, too," Cate choked out. Anything to keep them from coming back.
Mellor inhaled deeply as he did the math. The fact was, they were at a stalemate, and the only way he could get out of it alive was to drop his weapon. Cate tried to follow what was going through his mind, but all she could think was he'd have to trust Calvin wouldn't shoot him after he was disarmed. Mellor himself would probably kill them all in cold blood, but Calvin wouldn't.
Very deliberately, Mellor released Neenah and clicked the safety on the automatic. She slumped to the floor, unable to even stand. Cate started toward her, but Calvin threw an icy glance at her, and she halted, belatedly understanding that he didn't want her any closer to Mellor.
"Now drop it," Calvin instructed.
The weapon hit the floor with a heavy thud. Cate flinched, thinking it would go off, but nothing happened.
"Get the suitcase and leave."
Slowly, not making any sudden moves, Mellor retrieved the suitcase from Cate. Cate stared at him, her eyes wide. Their gazes met for a brief moment. His was still calm and expressionless, as if this was all in a day's work.
"Cate," said Calvin. She blinked at him. "Pick up the pistol."
She scrambled for the weapon, gingerly picking it up. She'd never touched a gun before, and she was surprised by the weight.
"See that button on the left side? Push it."
Holding the pistol in her right hand, she used her left forefinger to push the button.
"Okay," Calvin said, "you just took the safety off. Don't pull the trigger unless you mean to shoot. Go down the stairs first, and stay far enough away from him that he can't reach you. We'll be behind you. Go past the head of the stairs, and keep the gun aimed at him until I'm out of the stairwell and behind him again. You got that?"
The logic of it made sense. If he'd let Mellor go first, either he'd have had to be so close behind that Mellor could grab the shotgun, or Mellor would be out of sight for a few seconds after he reached the bottom of the stairs. Cate couldn't imagine what Calvin thought Mellor could do in those few seconds, but if he thought there was danger, she was willing to go along with him.