False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [117]
“Do you see the phone?”
Pierce nodded at her.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s here.”
The assailant pressed the tip of the knife between her shoulder blades. “Slowly pick it up and give it to me.”
Zoe’s mind went into high gear. Did Pierce want her to lead the guy into the bathroom or away from the bathroom? He put the phone in her hand and gave a nod.
“Okay, I’m passing it back to you.” Zoe handed it over her shoulder to the assailant.
“All right, slowly back out of the bathroom, and keep your hands where I can see them.”
Zoe did as she was told.
“Now slowly turn around and walk into the living room and sit on the couch.”
Zoe made an about-face, her legs feeling wobbly as a colt’s, and moved toward the living room as the assailant prodded her with the knife. What was Pierce going to do? Surely he wouldn’t try to overtake this man? Was he any challenge for a criminal wielding a knife?
God, please don’t let him get hurt.
Pierce’s eyes searched the bathroom for something he could use to disable the assailant. He might get only one chance. Failure was not an option.
He opened the mirrored cabinet above the sink and quickly scanned the glass shelves. Pill bottles. Tweezers. Toothpaste. Dental floss. He picked up a tiny pair of scissors. Too small.
He pulled back the shower curtain. A bar of soap. Zoe’s disposable razor. Back scrubber. Nothing that would serve as a weapon. Hurry!
He spotted a can of bathroom spray. He grabbed it from the back of the toilet, his heart racing, adrenaline almost oozing from his pores. He would have to do this just right. If he missed, he could end up dead. Zoe, too. He peeked out of the bathroom. The creep had his back to him and was prodding Zoe across the living room.
Pierce took a deep breath. Gripping the can so hard his knuckles were white, he crept ever so quietly across the hall and came up behind Zoe’s assailant. It was now or never.
Pierce let out a battle cry that seemed to rock the walls. He grabbed the assailant, put him in headlock, and sprayed the aerosol in his eyes and nostrils until he dropped the knife. Pierce kicked it over to Zoe.
“Call 9-1-1!”
Seconds later, there was a loud pounding on the door.
“It’s Ethan. Are you all right?”
“No!” Pierce said. “Come help me hold this guy until the police get here.”
Ethan flung the door open and came rushing in.
Pierce held the assailant with pit-bull-like tenacity, not loosening his grip, though the guy screamed obscenities and clawed at his eyes.
Ethan, his hands on his hips, looked from Pierce to the assailant and back to Pierce. “I don’t know why you need me, man. This guy’s not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER 39
In the wee hours of the next morning, Pierce sat on the couch in the moonlit living room and listened to the tick tick tick of the grandfather clock, the events of the past few days racing through his mind.
It had been just one week since Remy Jarvis was murdered. How many lives had been dramatically changed by the two men responsible? At least Zoe was safe now. And Vanessa was on the mend. His mind flashed back to the image of Emile leaving the church after Remy’s memorial Mass. How would Pierce have dealt with it if Zoe had been murdered? The thought of living his life without her was unbearable.
Yesterday’s conversation with his father wouldn’t leave him alone. Burke Broussard was about the finest man he knew. How could he be flawed? Flawed like Zoe and saddled with the same kind of secret—a secret so shameful that he chose to hide it from his wife for over thirty years? Still … could there be any doubt that his parents were totally committed to the relationship? That they had managed to work through the betrayal?
You’re the one with the power.… This can have a happy ending. It just depends on how much grace you’re willing to give Zoe.
Pierce’s eyes burned with tears. Grace. What did that even mean? Was he supposed to forget Zoe fabricated her life’s story? That she was capable of deceiving him on that level?
“Can’t you sleep either?” Zoe stood in the hallway, wearing