Courting Death - Carol Stephenson [73]
Since he had a nasty looking automatic clutched in his hand, it was probably not the best time to remind him he ended up in jail due to his own actions. Culpability would not be a word in his vocabulary.
“Drop your purse.”
I let it hit the tile with a soft thud. A faint sound came from the living room. My heart pounding, I turned and rushed from the foyer, heedless of Jordan. With duct tape over her mouth and arms tied behind her, Melissa sat in one of the chairs.
Relief and fear twisted inside me. I had to get her out of here. I rounded on Jordan, who stood there with a satisfied smirk on his ugly face. “Let her go. She’s only a neighbor. She has nothing to do with whatever gripe you have against me.”
He lifted a hand and slapped me, the force of the blow sending me staggering back several steps. My head rang and tears stung my eyes, but I managed to remain standing. “You lying bitch. All you lawyers can do is lie. She’s your sister, which makes her the same filth as you are.”
He made a slight gesture with the automatic. “We’ve got your whore mother in the kitchen.”
Fear wound tighter. “We?”
“Yeah, my brother. He’s the one who has been keeping you entertained until I could get out.”
“The pig’s heart. Charming.”
“Don’t worry about your loony mother and sister. They won’t suffer the way I’m going to make you suffer for taking my son away. They’ll both get a quick bullet to the head after you’re dead.”
Melissa squirmed and Jordan glared at her. “Don’t move, bitch.”
I needed to distract him. But how could I overpower him and his brother?
A small cry of pain came from the kitchen. A muscle flexed along Jordan’s jaw. “George, are you all right?”
Silence. Jordan’s pig eyes darted back and forth. “George, answer me.”
Mom appeared in the doorway and dramatically draped herself against the jamb. She lifted her hand and pressed the back of it against her head. “We must flee to the hills, my darlings. The Nazis are coming. The Nazis are coming to take us away.”
“What the hell?” Jordan’s thick brows drew together. “What did you do to my brother, you crazy old bitch?”
I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the nearest object in the hutch. Mom suddenly stood tall, threw out her arms and sang, “‘The hills are alive with the sound of music.’”
“That’s it.” Jordan pointed the automatic.
I lifted the heavy metal object and swung. The trophy struck the man on the side of the head. His eyes rolled back as he fell. The gun clattered to the floor and I grabbed it. I turned and saw the man from the restaurant staggering behind my mother. He pointed a gun at her.
“Mom, play dead.”
She gracefully dropped to the ground. I aimed, prayed to God and squeezed the trigger. Jordan’s brother screamed and dropped to his knees before keeling over. He shuddered and then lay still.
I scrambled to my feet and kicked the brother’s gun into the far corner of the kitchen. I knelt by my mother’s side. “Mom, are you all right?”
She popped up with a wide smile on her face. “I’m fine, dear. Did I take your direction well?”
“You played dead magnificently.” I hugged and kissed her. “I’ll help you up but first let me call the police.” As I dashed across the living room, I heard my sister mumbling. “Hang on, Melissa.”
While keeping the automatic aimed toward Jordan in case he came to, I used my free hand to grope around the contents of my bag until I found the phone. After pulling it out, I dialed 9-1-1. The second number I called was Sam’s but got his voice mail. I left him a terse message and disconnected. When I looked over, Mom was using a pair of scissors to cut the binding on Melissa’s wrists. My sister brought her arms forward and massaged her hands.
“Did they hurt you?”
She raised a hand to take off the tape covering her mouth and hesitated.
“Best to give it a quick rip, dear.” Mom reached out and did just that.
“Ow.” My sister covered her mouth. “That hurt.”
“Sorry.” She leaned down and kissed the top of Melissa’s head, then walked toward Jordan