“Shut up! I’ve had enough of your whining. Where’s the rabbit?”
“I think—” Nolan began.
Orin fired the gun at him, and if Nolan hadn’t turned his head, he would have been hit. “The next one strikes,” Orin said. He looked back at Grace. “Where the hell is it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Nolan needs to go home, then you and I can sit down and talk this through. We’ll find whatever it is that you want, but I can assure you that I’ve never owned a rabbit.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
Grace’s body was shaking but she didn’t want him to see that. “I know your wife died recently but—”
Orin laughed. “You really are the stupidest woman I’ve ever met. All I had to do was dump a load of guilt on you, take some money, and you’d crawl back into your shell. But now I’m sick of waiting. I’ve had four years in hell because of you. I was always worrying, always afraid you were going to find out.”
Grace took a step farther away from Nolan. Maybe if she could get Orin to concentrate on her, Nolan could slip away and get help.
“I didn’t mean to do anything bad to you, Orin,” Grace said. “I didn’t want you to be in misery. Your poverty—”
“Oh, hell! Just shut the crap. Where is the little metal rabbit? And since you’re too dumb to figure it out, I’ll tell you that my wife is quite well. In fact, she was the one who planned everything. Paula has always been the smart one. That that husband of yours snooped into things wasn’t something we thought would happen. I offered him twenty percent of everything if he’d keep quiet but he said no. Twenty percent! He was even dumber than you.”
Grace was beginning to understand what Orin was saying. “You . . . you and Paula killed my husband because he knew too much?”
With a snort, Orin shook his head. “So now you finally stop crying and use your brain. Too bad it’s all for nothing. I want—”
“It’s a flash drive, isn’t it?” Nolan said. “Shaped like a toy rabbit.”
Grace drew in her breath. She knew what Orin wanted—and where it was.
At her sound, Orin looked at her for a moment and saw the fear there. Terror. A smile came across his face. “I knew it! That smart-aleck kid of yours has it, doesn’t she?” On the kitchen island was Grace’s cell phone. Grabbing it, and hardly removing his eyes from them, he texted Abby to come home immediately and bring . . . He looked at Grace. “Is it on a key ring?” He could see by her eyes that he was right. He finished the text and sent it. “Won’t be long now and she’ll be here.”
Orin tossed the phone down and turned to Nolan. “So you’re the town computer nerd. Years ago, I had to listen to Grace rave about you. Took me nearly two hours to get her to believe she wasn’t worth a second husband. After all, she was such a bad wife that the first one killed himself just to get away from her.” Orin was smirking. “Grace is such a coward! That kid of hers has more courage in her little finger than she has in her entire body.”
“So what’s on the drive?” Nolan asked. He was inching toward the sideboard, his right hand held behind him.
“None of your business. You know, all this is happening because of that nerd kid you have. I’ve always been afraid that he’d see that little rabbit and know what it was. Paula told me it would never happen, but I knew it was only a matter of time. Was that a car?” Orin listened. “No. I’ll be glad to get out of here. I’m going to cry so hard at your funeral, Grace. Murder-suicide. Such a romantic story about a woman the whole town knows is
deeply depressed.”
Grace looked at Nolan, her eyes telling him that she was going to do something. He gave a quick shake of his head, pleading with her not to risk it.
On the kitchen counter was Abby’s cute little red Jambox. It was the size of half a brick and nearly as solid as one. Abby used it to play her music louder than the computer speakers allowed. Grace had often been amazed at how much sound could come out of something so small.
When Orin turned his sneering glance at Nolan, she grabbed the solid little box and threw it as hard as she could toward Orin’s head, then immediately dropped down to her knees behind the island.
The Jambox hit the side of Orin’s head, not enough to knock him down, but it cut him.
“What the—” Orin managed to say before Nolan leaped on him.
The two men hit the floor hard and the gun went sliding. Grace, still squatting behind the counter, flung herself forward and grabbed the gun.
She was shaking, but she stood up and held it at arm’s length, just as she saw them do on TV.
But Nolan, younger, taller, and stronger than Orin, had him under control. Orin was flat on the floor, arms and legs splayed, with Nolan’s knee in his back. “You have any plastic ties?”
“Yes,” Grace said and rummaged in a drawer until she found some—long ones, left over from tying up the Christmas tree. She grabbed several and handed them to Nolan.
As he took the ties, he gently pushed the gun she was still holding away from his head.
“Oh, sorry,” she said and started to put it on the island, but didn’t.