Shiver

not find the kid. He didn’t have to see it to know that whatever had just gone down had been real bad. Uncovering the mouthpiece, Danny spoke as calmly as possible into the phone. “Tyler. You need to stay real quiet, remember? Is there any way you can get out of the house without them seeing you? You’d have to be real sure they couldn’t see you before you tried it, though.”
    “Locals are on their way,” Groves announced.
    “Then we can damned well leave them to it,” Sanders growled.
    Danny put his palm over the mouthpiece again. “You do that, you abandon this kid and his mother, and the government will never get another word out of me, I promise you. I won’t say a fucking syllable, you understand that?” He cut a look at Groves. “Get back on the radio and tell whoever that this is a potential hostage situation and they’re going to need SWAT. Then tell them to contact the FBI.”
    “Boss?” Groves looked at Sanders.
    “Do it,” Sanders snapped.
    “I think Mrs. Menifee might be dead,” Tyler said.
    Briefly Danny closed his eyes. “Don’t think about that. Remember what I asked you? Can you get out of the house without them seeing you?”
    “When I go to the door of my bedroom, I can see them.”Tyler’s voice was barely audible now, the faintest of whispers. “That means they can see me, right? I have to go out of my bedroom, and run down the hall, and get out the front door.”
    “Don’t try it.” Just picturing it made Danny’s skin crawl. “You’re under the bed again, right?” A sound from Tyler confirmed it. “That’s a good place to hide. You just stay put, then. We’re coming to get you. We’re almost there.” According to the GPS, they were a little over four miles away and closing fast. The dark streets were almost deserted. Although Danny realized that he was automatically listening for them, no sirens could be heard dashing to the rescue. Beside him, Groves was once again on the damned radio. Shoving a shoulder into him, he mouthed, “Hurry the fuck up.”
    Groves glared at him, then said into the radio, “Yeah, it’s going down right now. Tell ’em to hurry up.”
    “There’s blood all over the kitchen floor. They cut Mrs. Menifee real bad. She wasn’t moving.” Tyler’s voice caught on a sob.
    “Don’t think about it. Try to think about something else instead,” Danny instructed, sick at the thought of what the boy had seen, what he would see if they didn’t get there in time. Or worse than see. The fact that Tyler was a four-year-old kid wouldn’t even slow Veith and company down. Danny thought about his own nephews, attempted a distraction. “I bet you like the Avengers, right?”
    “I want my mom,” Tyler whimpered, undistracted. Hell, no surprise in that. Danny heard him take a long, shaky breath. Then Tyler added, “What happens if they find me ?”
    Danny’s throat went tight. “They’re not going to find you. Just stay where you are and be as quiet as you can.”
    “Mom’s here.” The relief in Tyler’s voice was palpable.
    “What?” Something that felt like a giant fist grabbed Danny’s heart and squeezed.
    “She’s here. I know she is. I can hear Big Red. That’s the truck she drives. It makes a lot of noise. She’s probably parking it out in front like she always does.”
    “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” Exhaling the words, Danny felt like his insides had just been flash frozen. Then a second, terrifying thought hit him. Would the kid pop out and go running to her? “Tyler, you stay where you are, you hear? Tyler? ”
    But the kid wasn’t there anymore, or if he was, he wasn’t answering.

CHAPTER TEN
     

     
    S am’s heart rate hit about a thousand miles a minute as she pulled up across the street from her duplex. Terrified of attracting any notice at all, she winced at the loud groan of the brakes. The fear that she was being followed—chased—had had her stealing terrified glances through the rearview mirror the whole way home. So far, nothing. At least, nothing that she could spot. She’d practically broken land speed records getting there, helped by the fact that traffic was so light as to be almost nonexistent. The moment it stopped, Sam slammed the transmission into park, grabbed the keys and her gun, and leaped from the truck. Ignoring the engine’s last shuddering gasps, she sprinted across the dark street, trying to look in a dozen directions at once. No streetlamps around here, and no friendly