“Calm, Gibbs. Calm. Did you call nine-one-one?”
“Yes.”
“What did you see?”
“In the parking lot-he-he got out of his car. I saw him.”
“Sterling’s outside? Is he alone?” I said, repeating some of what Gibbs told me so that Carmen would know what I was hearing. Carmen was standing three feet away. I watched her eyebrows jump up at the news about Sterling. “You’re not sure. The lights in your room, are they on or off?”
“On.”
“Turn them off. The TV, too. Shhhh. Quiet now.”
“I’m scared.”
“The door’s locked, right? The chain, too?”
“Yes. Help me, Sam. Help me.”
“Do you hear sirens yet?”
“No, no!”
Carmen’s eyes told me she was puzzled, the kind of puzzled usually reserved for those times when you think you just heard your cat ask you for a beer.
“Shhhh,” I told Gibbs. “Quiet voice. What floor are you on?”
“Um, uh. Third. Third story.”
“Third story. Get on the floor, okay? On the far side of the bed, away from the door. Can you do that?” As soon as I told her to get on the floor, I remembered that she was on her cell phone and wished I’d sent her into the bathroom.
“Yes, yes. Help me.”
“Sirens yet?”
“Uh, no. No.”
The commercial section of Vail is a few blocks wide, a few dozen blocks long. That’s it. A cruiser in a hurry could get from one end to the other in seconds. Where were they?
“You’re on the floor, right, Gibbs?”
“Yes.”
“You’re doing good.”
“Come help me.”
“I’m in Indiana, Gibbs.”
“I know. Come help me.”
“Someone will be there any second.”
I heard pounding. Gibbs said, “He’s here, Sam. He’s here. Oh no, oh no.”
“Someone’s there?” I mimed the act of knocking so that Carmen would know what Gibbs was saying. “It might be the police, Gibbs. Stay still. If you know it’s him, run for the bathroom.”
More pounding.
This time Carmen mimed the act of knocking. Then, inexplicably, she pointed down toward the floor.
For a long moment I was confused by Carmen’s charade and then, suddenly, I got it.
Holy shit.
I lowered the phone from my ear, and my pulse rocketed as though my heart had a turbocharger on it.
I moved the phone back to my face and said, “Gibbs? Stay quiet until you’re sure who it is. Don’t open the door. Shhhh.”
With the pad of my thumb firmly over the phone’s microphone, I leaned over to Holly’s oldest sister and whispered, “Get the kids and get out of the house. Now! Front door, everybody. Got a cell?”
She nodded.
“Call nine-one-one when you get outside. Tell them cops are in the basement and guns are drawn.”
I looked at Artie.
His mouth was open. His brain wasn’t.
He was staring at the big gun that was filling my hand.
“Artie?” I said, careful not to raise the hand with the pistol. “Put the knife down on the counter and follow your sister-in-law. Go on, get out of here.”
Artie followed my directions robotically. I raised the phone back to my face.
“Gibbs, are you there?” I asked.
Nothing.
Shit.