Free Hostage by Willo Davis Roberts Page A

. . .” He swore again. “They’d never stop looking for us if we kill her.”
    I was wilting with fear; only his brutal hand kept me from falling. I was dizzy andsick to my stomach, yet if I keeled over he might finish me off right that minute.
    â€œNo, we’re not gonna kill her,” Cal said. He was looking right at me, but his countenance was no friendlier than it had been earlier. I was not misled into being reassured.
    It was a wonder that my eyes could even track at that point, but suddenly I caught a flicker of movement behind Cal, through the dining room window.
    Mrs. Banducci again!
    Her face was pressed to the glass, with her hands shielding her eyes from the sides as she tried once more to see into the interior of the house.
    I must have reacted, though I tried not to, because Cal and Buddy both twitched and turned toward the window. They both cursed at the same time. I didn’t know whether Bo meant to slam me against the wall again or not, but the pain that shot through my elbow made me go blind and numb for a few seconds.
    â€œIt’s that old witch next door,” Cal said thickly. “I thought one of you was gonna check and make sure she was still up to her behindin the water you turned loose in her garage. Go after her! Don’t let her get to a phone to call the cops! I’ll take care of this one!”
    I slid down the wall when Bo let go of me, curling forward as my head got banged, too. I felt the tears seeping out of my eyes and couldn’t get my hands free to wipe at them or rub my elbow. My nose was starting to run disgustingly, and I couldn’t do anything about that, either.
    Cal looked down on me contemptuously. “This should have been a good gig, but you and that stupid old woman have spoiled it all. We’ll be gone as soon as they get that spare tire on. I’ve got a few more things to throw in this last box, and then we’re out of here. And if you try to move while I’m doing that, you’ll be sorry, sister.”
    I wished I could tell him what I thought of him, but even if I could have found enough voice to do it, I was afraid of him. From where I was sprawled on the floor, I could see those size twelve combat boots and I imagined them kicking into me while I lay helpless.
    He turned his back on me, confident that he’d cowedme into submission. I could see him through the archway between the dining room and the living room, tossing things carelessly into the last of the cardboard cartons. He was even including the embroidered pillows that Aunt Kathie had given Mom for her last birthday. As I watched through a blur of tears, he took down the full-length mirror that hung just inside the front door so people could check their appearance at the last minute as they left the house.
    My tears had initially been because of pain, but they were gradually encompassing another kind of suffering. I knew Mom was going to be devastated when she saw all the things missing from her wonderful new house.
    And when I thought about it a moment longer, I realized she and Dad and even Jeff and Jodie and Wally most likely would grieve for me, too.
    Cal had said they weren’t going to kill me, but did that mean not right now, or never? I had a dismal conviction that I’d be lucky if I ever saw any of my family again.
    It hurt to be in the position I was in, withmy hands still tied behind me, twisting sideways. I tried to shift, hoping to ease a cramp in my ribs. Something small fell out of the backpack onto the hardwood floor of the dining room, rolling under me.
    Cal immediately paused in the act of picking up the box he’d finally filled and gave me a suspicious look.
    I swiveled my head around and wiped my nose on the shoulder of my T-shirt. Gross, but preferable to letting it run down into my mouth.
    â€œStay put,” Cal said in a hard voice, and carried the box out and loaded it into the yawning back of the truck. He