KnockOut ft-13 Read online

  She gave another little laugh. He smiled as he dialed Gerald’s Loft.

  When he had Joanna Backman on the phone, he said only, “She’s safe. She’s here with me, at my house. She’s eating pizza and playing with my pets.”

  She didn’t say a single word. The cell cut off, and he could see her running out the door, maybe remembering it was cold here in Titusville at night and running back to get her jacket and her purse. She’d be here in under five minutes, he’d bet on it. He called Faydeen, asked her to start the chain of phone calls to alert everyone that the search was over, that the little girl was safe and sound. When he closed his cell, he saw Autumn was eating the last piece of pizza, stuffing it in her mouth. One hungry kid.

  “I still don’t know a blessed thing.”

  She suddenly dropped the pizza onto the paper plate and stiffened tight all over. He realized he’d spoken out loud. “What’s the matter?”

  “You said his name,” she whispered. “How did you know his name? I only told Dillon his name.”

  I said his name? Whose name? Who’s Dillon? He simply looked at her, his head to one side in question.

  “You said his name. Why did you say his name?”

  I still don’t know a blessed thing. Blessed? No, he couldn’t have heard her right. The man was actually named Blessed? That had to be the weirdest name he’d ever heard. He said, his voice casual, easy, “Who is Blessed?”

  She was keening from deep in her throat. She shoved back her chair and slithered out of it. She would have run past him, but he managed to catch her. She fought him, tears streaming down her face, shaking, making that awful sound. Ethan didn’t think, he simply brought her up onto his lap and held her tight against him. He whispered against her hair, “It’s okay, sweetheart, I promise it’s okay.”

  He heard a car drive up. He smoothed her hair back from her face. “I bet that’s your mama. Come on, sweetheart, don’t be scared, of anybody. I’ll hurt this Blessed if he comes anywhere near you, all right?”

  “You don’t know, you just don’t know.” She was shuddering but no longer fighting him. He heard the front door open, heard Joanna Backman running, calling out, “Autumn? Autumn?”

  Well, wasn’t that bright of him? He hadn’t even locked the front door. He said, “We’re in the kitchen. Come on in, Mrs. Backman.”

  When she ran into the kitchen, she pulled up sharp. “Oh my God, what happened to her? What did you do? What’s wrong?”

  He heard the growing hysteria in her voice and said very slowly, very calmly, “It’s all right. Autumn is afraid of this man Blessed. I’m trying to convince her I can handle anyone who tries to hurt her or you.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. She pulled her daughter out of his arms abd plastered her against her chest, rocking her back and forth, kissing her hair, her small face, and kept speaking, trying not to cry with absolute relief. The animals, strangely enough, hadn’t moved much, hadn’t dashed for his bedroom as they usually did whenever a stranger invaded the house. All three of them sat on the kitchen floor, as if nothing at all were going on.

  Ethan said finally, “Would you care for some hot chocolate, Mrs. Backman?”

  “Wha-what?” She looked at him, dazed, and pulled her daughter more tightly against her.

  “I gave her hot chocolate. Autumn liked it, didn’t you, Autumn?”

  The little girl pulled back in her mother’s arms. “It’s good, Mama, real good.”

  “I used nonfat milk. To add balance, she had pepperoni pizza.”

  Autumn said, “I’m sorry, Mama, but I had to keep them away from you, and I knew this was the safest place, even though you don’t trust Ethan. He fed me, Mama, and his animals like me too.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff.”

  “You’re welcome, Mrs. Backman.”

  “I suppose you should call me Joanna.”

  Ethan nodded. “Joanna, who is Blessed?”

  She ducked her head down, her hair veiling her face. “We need to leave. I never should have come to Titusville, shouldn’t have waited for Tollie to come home. I’m an idiot.”

  Big Louie came to his feet, barked once, and stared at Joanna. Ethan grabbed him, rubbed his rich, black coat. “That took you long enough, Big Louie. Calm down. Autumn’s just saying hello to her mama, so she’s currently tied up, dude. You’ve got to stay with me a little while.”

  Autumn laughed.

  Ethan said easily, “You won my pets over, Autumn. Did you feed them until they were your slaves?”

  “Oh, no, I know better than that.”

  He heard someone knock on the cottage door. Two sharp raps, a pause, then two more, harder raps. Both Joanna and Autumn turned to stone.

  “It’s all right. I’ll be right back.”

  “No, no, Sheriff, don’t go, please—”

  “It will be all right. You two stay here.” Ethan pulled his Beretta as he left the kitchen. He called out, “Who is it?”

  No answer.

  He opened the front door—not terribly bright, he knew—but no one was there.

  He called out again, walked to the edge of the porch, and stood quietly, his eyes adjusting to the night light. He heard no other sound excerpt the night wind whistling through the trees, the crickets, an owl, and then an answer from its mate.

  He closed and locked the door, then walked back into the kitchen to see Ox, his senior deputy, a man he’d known for three years, holding Joanna back against him, his gun jabbed against her neck.

  “Well, now, I surely do believe that’s far enough, Sheriff.” It was Ox, but Ethan had never before heard him speak in such a high, piercing voice. He felt gooseflesh rise on his arms.

  7

  AUTUMN WHISPERED, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

  What did a little girl have to be sorry about? Ethan stared at Ox, knowing what he was seeing, not willing to accept that this manic voice he was hearing, this mad voice, was from the Ox he knew. He stood very quietly. “What’s going on, Ox? What are you doing? Put down that damned gun, you hear me? Let Mrs. Backman go and tell me what’s going on. Now.”

  Ox turned his head to the side and spit on the tile kitchen floor. He pressed the muzzle of the gun harder into Joanna’s neck. “I don’t have much time, so put your gun on the floor, Sheriff, and kick it over to me. If you don’t, I’ll kill the bitch.”

  Bitch? Ethan had never heard Ox say anything like that about a woman.

  “I’m not a bitch, you monster!” Joanna shoved her elbow back into his gut so fast Ethan barely registered what she’d done. Ox grunted, and she hit him again as hard as she could with that elbow. He screamed curses as she hit him a third time. He stumbled backward, yelling all the while at her, and raised his gun.

  “Ox, look at me!” Ethan yelled, and brought up his Beretta. His heart dropped to his gut when Autumn kicked Ox in the shin, jumped up, and grabbed Ox’s flailing gun arm.

  Ethan yelled, “Autumn, let go!”

  But Autumn didn’t let go, she hung on for dear life. Ox jerked her right off the floor.

  Jonnna yelled, “Let her go!” When he twisted toward her, Joanna kicked him in the crotch.

  Ethan yelled, “Drop, Autumn! Now!” and the little girl dropped and rolled away. Ox screamed, his gun flying as he sank to his knees. Joanna yelled her daughter’s name even as she watched the gun skid across the tiles to bounce off a chair leg.

  “Keep away from him,” Ethan yelled at Joanna. He grabbed Ox around his neck, jerked his head back, and yelled into his face, “Ox!”

  Ox was cursing, moaning. “I’m going to kill the bitch, kill her, kill her, kill her, and I’m gonna take the little girl and—”

  “No, you’re not,” Ethan said, and grabbed his collar and hauled him upright.

  Ox took a mad swing at him, but Ethan leaned back on his heel and kicked Ox square in the gut. Ox dropped without a sound to the kitchen floor, his arms clutching his belly. Ethan kicked him again in the chin.

  Ethan stood over h
im, watched his eyes roll back in his head. He lay perfectly still.

  No one moved. There wasn’t a sound in the kitchen except for Ethan’s hard breathing and Autumn’s small gasps and hiccups. Joanna stared down at Ox, unmoving, watchful, her eyes narrowed, her foot up and ready to kick him again.

  A minute passed—more like a damned year, Ethan thought—be-fore he saw Ox open his eyes. He stared up at Ethan. Suddenly he didn’t look like a madman bent on murder, he looked very scared. Ethan wanted to shout with relief because now he saw Ox behind those eyes, saw Ox’s confusion. Ox—the Ox Ethan knew—was back. Had the violence, the pain, brought him back?

  “Is he all right?” Joanna asked.

  “Yes, he’s himself again.”

  “It was the pain that brought him back,” she said. “Pain somehow breaks the hold.”

  Brought him back from where? What hold? What happened to him? Had someone done this to him? This Blessed?

  Ethan came down on his knees, pulled Ox up in his arms, and shook him slightly. “Ox? Come on now, wake up. You okay? You there?”

  It seemed to everyone in the kitchen that another year passed before Ox said, his voice low and gravelly, like he’d been screaming too long and hard and bruised his throat, “Yeah. Ethan—what happened? My jaw and my guts feel like they’ve been kicked through my backbone by Old Hestus’s mule. Why’d you kick me like that? And Mrs. Backman kicked me in the ba—She kicked me and I wanted to puke and die. And the kid, she attacked me. What’s going on here, Ethan? Why?”

  “It’s over now, everything’s okay.” Now that was a whopper of a lie. As Ethan pulled Ox up, he looked closely into his clearing eyes and dusted him down. “You sit down, get yourself together.” After he’d settled Ox into a kitchen chair, he speed-dialed Faydeen. “Get all my deputies at my house right away. This is a bona fide emergency. I don’t exactly know what’s happening, but there may be a very dangerous man here, so tell them all to come armed and be very careful. Hurry, Faydeen… Yes; yes, I’ve got Mrs. Backman and Autumn with me. They’re all right. Do it, Faydeen, now.” He turned to Joanna, who was holding Autumn against her side. He saw that the little girl was trying very hard not to cry. He came down on his knee in front of her.

  “You did really good, Autumn. You grabbed his arm, kept your mana safe. I’m very proud of you.”

  She snuffled once, then gave him a very small smile.

  He patted her arm and rose. Joanna was as white-faced as her daughter. She looked panicked, ready to bolt. He said quietly, “Tell me what happened to Ox.”

  She grabbed his arm, shook him. “I’ll explain later, but that’s not important now. Listen to me, Sheriff, you saw what he did to your deputy. He’s close by, probably right outside the window. He can make anyone do things, horrible things if he wants, crazy things.”

  “Who’s close by?”

  “A very scary man,” she said, trying not to pant with fear, trying not to lose it in front of her daughter. She lowered her voice. “We’ve got to get out of here.” Then she slapped her palm to her forehead. “No, I’m an idiot. He’s out there, and I can’t take the chance he’ll get Autumn. How are we going to get her away from here, away from him?”

  Joanna grabbed for Ethan’s Beretta on the kitchen table. He closed his hand over hers. “No, stop. Dammit, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on. What the hell happened to Ox? You say this man made him get crazy? That’s true enough, but how? How did Blessed make Ox do this? How did hurting Ox break the hold? Talk to me, Joanna, stop holding back. If some crazy man is here, I need to know all about him, now.”

  Joanna was so scared she thought she’d vomit. She saw him, through the kitchen window, saw him yet in her brain, she knew it was only shadows, tree branches shifting in the night winds. It didn’t matter, she had to get that gun and shoot him. Or would he make her turn the gun on herself and blow her own face off?

  Ethan shook her, then noticed Autumn ready to leap on him to protect her mother. He didn’t yell at her, he kept his voice low and quiet. “Joanna, look at me. I’m big and I’m mean and I know what I’m doing. You are not going to take my gun. I can protect you and Autumn, but you’ve got to tell me what and who I’m protecting you against.” He grabbed her and shook her again. Her head snapped back on her neck. “Pay attention here! Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Leave my mama alone! Leave her—”

  Ethan looked over at Autumn. “Listen, honey, Mama needs to talk to me so I can help you, okay? I’m not hurting her, I promise.”

  Joanna said, “He’s not hurting me, Autumn.” She drew a deep breath. He’s right, stop it, stop it. She sucked in a shuddering breath, steadied herself. Autumn was making small mewling sounds. She had to get it together; she couldn’t fly out of control. Autumn ran to her, and Joanna hugged her against her legs. “It’s all right, sweetie, I promise. The sheriff will help us, you’ll see. Now, stay strong for me, okay?” She looked at Ethan. “Sheriff, listen to me. Blessed is here. He is very dangerous. He’s not right in the head; he has the ability to look at you and sort of hypnotize you. He can make you do anything he wants you to. You saw yourself what he just did to your deputy. You’ve got to believe me.”

  “Okay, say I believe you,” Ethan said, but of course he didn’t. “Who exactly is Blessed? No, forget that for the moment.” He streaked his fingers through his hair, then turned to stare at Ox, who was rubbing his stomach. He still looked confused, and his face was white with pain.

  Ethan, voice calm, filled with authority, said, “Don’t bother making another grab for my gun. Now, I want you to take Autumn and Ox back into my bedroom. Lock the door and stick a chair under the knob. I want you to close and lock the windows, pull the drapes so no one can see in. Turn off the lights. I want all of you to sit on the floor on the opposite side of the bed. Don’t move until I call you. Don’t open the bedroom door except for me. Do you understand?”

  “But—”

  “Do it, now,” Ethan said over his shoulder as he went to the back door, looked out, and slid the dead bolt home. He pulled his grand-ma’s lacy curtains over the kitchen window and took one last look at Joanna, Autumn, and Ox, still sitting there looking dazed and lost, his jaw grinding because he still hurt. “Turn out the kitchen lights. Autumn knows where everything is. Go!”

  Autumn clutched her mother’s hand. “Come on, Mama, we’ve got to hurry.”

  Ethan hoped she’d obey him. He didn’t have time to convince her. He turned and ran toward the front of his house.

  Joanna patted Ox’s arm as she bent down and picked up his gun. She saw he was still too disoriented to take care of himself. “You need to come with us, Ox. It’s not safe for you to sit here right now, okay?”

  Ox raised dazed eyes to her face. “I don’t understand what happened. Why did you all hit me?”

  “I’m sorry, but now you’ve got to come with us. It’s dangerous. It’s what the sheriff wants. I’ll take care of your gun until you get yourself together again.” Actually, she had no intention of ever giving up that gun. They turned off lights in their wake as they half dragged Ox to the back of the house, to Ethan’s bedroom. It was dark as a pit once Ethan had turned off all the front lights. Joanna shut the bedroom door and locked it; but she knew, simply knew, that Blessed was outside the window. What was the sheriff doing? What if Blessed killed him? Or made him kill himself?

  Ethan stood quietly beside the locked front door. He heard them dragging Ox down the hallway, heard the bedroom door close, heard the lock click. Good. They were safe.

  The house was completely dark now. He wasn’t worried about the animals. If they weren’t under his bed, he knew Mackie, Lula, and Big Louie were hiding beneath the desk in his study, all three of them huddled together.

  Who was this man they were so frightened of who’d made Ox act crazy-dangerous, like some mad killer? A powerful hypnotist? That’s what Joanna believed. He had to be if he’d made Ox act against everything he was at his core.
r />   The man’s name was Blessed; the name itself sounded crazy. Was he some sort of gifted psycho who wanted Autumn? But why? And both mother and daughter knew him and were terrified of him.

  He stood sideways to the front door and slowly, carefully, eased back the corner of the blind to look outside. It was perfectly black, the dark clouds hanging lower now, obscuring the quarter moon. It would begin to rain soon. He stood very still, watching for any shift in the deep shadows, listened for any sound that didn’t belong to the night, but there was nothing except the shimmering of the thick-leafed oak branches in the night wind.

  He heard the owl again, then the answering call of its mate.

  Nothing else.

  Then he heard glass shatter.

  8

  ETHAN SPUN AROUND so fast he nearly fell. The sound had come from the back of the house—from his bedroom.

  He banged opened the front door and then ran full-out around his cottage. He saw a man standing on a lawn chair, leaning into his broken bedroom window, a gun in one hand.

  He was tall, long-limbed, with a ski mask pulled down over his head and face. Blessed?

  Ethan heard him say softly, his voice scary slow, mesmerizing, “I know you’re in there, Joanna. I heard the sheriff tell you what to do. You can’t get away again. I know the bedroom door’s locked. I know the sheriff heard the window crashing. When he roars through that door, I’m gonna blow his head off. You hear me? I’m not kidding now. You want to see him die? Send Autumn out. I don’t want to take a chance of shooting her. Send her out now, Joanna.”

  Ethan raised his Beretta and said, “Drop the gun now, Blessed. I won’t tell you twice.”

  The man jerked around, his hand coming up fast. A shot rang out, from inside the bedroom before Ethan could fire his Beretta. The man screamed as he twisted back and fell off the lawn chair, grabbing his arm. “You weren’t supposed to have a gun! You didn’t have to die, but now you are. I’m going to kill you for shooting me, bitch, kill you, you hear me?” He was rolling and off the ground before both Ethan and Joanna fired again, both bullets missing him. He whirled around, saw Ethan bearing down on him, and fired wildly toward him. Ethan fell to his side and rolled behind an oak tree, firing off a half-dozen rounds. The man returned fire but only three shots. Too bad Joanna hadn’t hit his gun arm. Then he heard a repeated clicking noise. So he had a revolver, not a pistol, and he was out of bullets. Blessed made a weird high-pitched wailing sound and ran in a crouch toward the woods.