Raising the Stakes

“Very well, Ms. Carter.” Mrs. Wilton rose from her chair. “Thomas is probably watching cartoons with some of the other boys. I’ll take you—”

“That’s all right. I know where he is. I’ll get him myself.” Dawn paused in the doorway. “Mrs. Wilton? Thank you for everything.”

“You’re welcome, I’m sure. After all, one night’s disruption in routine—”

“I mean, thank you for all you’ve done for Tommy. He’s been very happy here.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Wilton’s face softened. “Well, that’s nice of you to say. He’s a fine little boy.”

“Yes,” Dawn said softly, “yes, he is.”

Tommy threw himself into her arms when he saw her. She drew him outside, to where she’d left her car, and told him they were going to have a very special evening, just the two of them.

His face fell. “But we’re havin’ a cookout. An’ cake and ice cream,” he said. “Didn’t Mrs. Wilton tell you? It’s Barry’s birthday. He’s gonna be eight.”

Dawn squatted down and brushed her son’s soft golden curls from his forehead. “I know, baby. But think of the fun we’ll have. We can have hot dogs, same as you’d have if you were staying here.”

“I won’t get to grill mine on a stick.”

“No. You won’t. Tell you what. You pick what you want for supper. McDonald’s? Burger King? I know. We’ll go to that place where they serve those delicious waffles. You can have one with strawberries and whipped cream and—”

“You can stay here and go to the party with me.”

Dawn cupped her son’s face in her hands. “Listen to me, Tommy. We’re going to play a very special game tonight. Remember that movie about the puppies that ran away and had to hide from a bad person?”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “Are we getting a puppy?”

“Sweetheart, pay attention, okay? We’re going to pretend we’re like those puppies. We’re going to get into Mommy’s car and drive away from here as quickly as we can.”

Tommy pushed out his bottom lip. “I don’t think I’m gonna like this game, Mom.”

Mom. Her little boy had called her Mom again. He was definitely growing up and now he was going to have to grow up even faster.

“Thomas.”

“You never call me that unless you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you, baby.” Dawn pulled him into her arms and gave him a quick, hard hug. “I just need you to be as big a boy as you can, okay?” She sat back on her heels, smiled and adjusted his collar. “Now I want you to get into the car and put on your seat belt.”

Tommy sighed. “Okay, Mama. Lemme just go get my jacket—”

“No!” She spoke sharply. Her son looked at her in surprise and she stood up, reminded herself that she didn’t want to scare him, and held out her hand. “You won’t need it. There’s always that big old blanket I keep in the trunk that we use when we picnic. If you get cold, I’ll wrap you in that. We can’t waste time going back to your room. Remember, we’re like those puppies from that movie, on the run and moving fast.” Tommy looked doubtful and she flashed another smile and tapped him lightly on the bottom. “Okay, baby. You go scoot right on into—”

“Hello, Dawn.”

She knew the voice instantly. The coldness of it, the menace inherent in the flat intonation, were as familiar as if four days had gone by, not four years.

Dawn straightened up and turned to face the man who haunted her dreams.

He hadn’t changed at all. The empty eyes. The thin smile. The hands, flexing and unflexing at his sides in promise of what was to come. He was all that was evil, and he had come for her just as she had always known he would.

“You were real easy to follow,” he said softly, “all the way from that fancy hotel to here.”

“Mama?”

Tommy’s voice was a soft question. Dawn realized she was clasping his shoulder, digging her fingers into his tender flesh.

“Go in the house, baby,” she said softly.