They called it the wolf’s hour, that time of night when fear held Dominion over the wicked and the pure.
Eden stared through the open pillbox window. Dead blue moonlight bathed the desert. Daddy’s chapel stood in a grove of twisted yucca trees. From inside, the harsh glare of kerosene lanterns slashed cracks in the walls and streamed across the desert, as if the night had been gutted and was bleeding afternoon.
The stock of Harold’s.357 Magnum was slick with Eden’s sweat. She held tight to the pistol and watched the chapel door. Mama and Daddy were still inside. They had to be. Eden had watched the chapel for hours, and she’d seen nothing. The only sign of movement was an occasional flicker as someone-Eden imagined it was Mama-passed in front of a kerosene lantern.
Anguish whipped Eden as she remembered bursting through the chapel door. The whole thing happened so fast. Of course she didn’t want Daddy to get hurt. She only wanted to protect the Chihuahua.
Daddy was surprised. His concentration was broken when he needed it most. His link with Satan vanished in the wink of an eye and the big albino rattler sprang, biting Daddy’s face, pumping its venom into his blood.
Mama tore the viper loose. In the time it took her to do that, Eden’s entire world changed.
Because Eden no longer had a family. Mama disowned her, speaking those horrible words that gouged and hacked like the blade of an ax. If Daddy lived, he would do the same. Eden couldn’t blame them. Everything Mama said about her was right. She did cry too much. She was weak.
And there was nothing she could do about it. She had tried so hard-beseeching Satan night after night, asking him for power. She had taken the fork in the road that lead to wickedness, taken it willingly. Her body was a temple to sin.
But through it all Eden’s heart remained pure, and that was her great downfall. Guilt was the horse she rode, and she lashed it with a quirt called conscience.
In the end she always surrendered to her weaknesses. In the end she always surrendered to her tears.
Eden’s head dipped. Where was Harold? He should have returned long ago. She couldn’t stay awake much longer. Her eyelids were so heavy. And so was the gun. Her wrist was killing her. It felt like someone had jammed hot coals between the bones in her forearm.
Maybe she could set down the Magnum for a minute. Just a minute. Give her wrist a rest. Maybe she could take a little break, remove her braces, run some cool water over her aching wrist-
Or maybe she could lean against the wall and close her eyes. Just for a minute. The cement was so cool against her sweaty skin, and she needed to rest her eyes really badly.
After all, the window was open. If Mama or Daddy left the chapel, she’d hear the creaking door. She could rest her eyes for a minute. She could trust her ears. .
The sound brought Eden sharply awake.
Someone breathing heavily, behind her.
Eden whirled, snatching up the pistol.
The Chihuahua lay on the bed, muzzle open as it drew rasping, tortured breaths. It was so sick. It couldn’t sleep at all, not with that horrible cough. Eden tried to look at the dog and see only money. If she could only trust in Satan, truly trust in Him with all her heart, then she could see the dog clearly.
Spike whimpered. Guilt slashed Eden’s heart. She reached out, pain jolting her forearm as she bent her wrist. Lightly, with feather touches, she stroked Spike’s fur.
Tears welled in her eyes. It wasn’t fair. Spike was just a stupid dog. An animal not even worthy of sacrifice in Daddy’s chapel. If only she could see the Chihuahua through Mama’s eyes. Then she wouldn’t care one little bit about the dog.
Eden curled up on the bed, pulling the Chihuahua to her belly. Spike’s breathing slowed a bit as he snuggled against her. “It’s going to be okay,” Eden said. “It’s going to be okay.”
She would only close her eyes for a minute.
She wouldn’t fall asleep.
Harold was counting on her. She had to stay awake.
She would only close her eyes for a minute. .
Drifting. . drifting. . sleep. .
Mama’s face. . Mama’s words. . You’re so weak. . You can’t be no daughter of mine. . I never wanted you. . If I had it to do over again I’d rip you from my belly with a coat hanger-
Someone was shaking her.
“Wake up, sweetie.”
By the time Eden clawed her way up from the pit of sleep, the intruder had already handcuffed one of her wrists to the bedpost.
A moment later the other wrist was handcuffed, and none too gently. The pain was supersonic, as if someone had squirted lighter fluid on those burning coals between the bones in her forearm. Still, Eden struggled against the pain. She kicked with all her might as hands closed over legs, but the intruders-for there were two of them-overpowered her, cuffing her ankles as well.
Spike jumped off the bed and crawled to the far corner of the room. Eden twisted and turned, but there was no escaping her bonds.
Tura and Lorelei stared down at her. With all that had happened, Eden had nearly forgotten about her sisters. They’d spent the day setting up the drop site out in the desert. They probably had no idea what had happened with Mama and Daddy-
Eden had to tell them. There wasn’t time for sick practical jokes. “You can’t do this,” she said. “Not how. Mama’s gone crazy. And Daddy is-”
Tura slapped Eden’s cheek. “Save it.”
Lorelei stuffed a pair of panties into Eden’s mouth. “We’re gonna teach you a lesson, Eden.”
“Yeah.” Tura plastered a square of duct tape over Eden’s mouth. “You crossed the line this time, princess.”
Eden stared up at them, unable to speak. They knew. They had to know. They must have talked to Mama while Eden slept. And Daddy. . why, the way they were acting. . Daddy was probably dead.
“We’re going to make you pay,” Lorelei said.
Again, Tura’s hard fingers whipped Eden’s cheek.
“You shouldn’t have stolen my Fig Newtons, bitch,” Tura said. “And if you ever touch my vibrator again, I’ll kill you.”
When they finished with their sister, Tura and Lorelei noticed the Chihuahua.
The dog could hardly breathe. Hacking and coughing-it sounded like a death rattle or something.
Lorelei said, “The little fucker’s really sick.”
“Yeah. And if he dies, we’re screwed. Nobody’s gonna pay a half a million for a dead dog.”
“What should we do?”
Tura glanced at her watch. “We’ve got another twenty hours until the drop. That’s a lot of time. Maybe we should take the little fucker to a vet.”
“Where are we gonna find a vet at this hour?”
“You remember that guy in Vegas. That old Methuselah you were kidding me about? The one who used to come to the club almost every night?”
“You mean Dr. Gooddoggy?” Lorelei asked.
“Yeah. Frank Newman. He’s the best vet in Vegas. When we quit he gave me his home number. Said if I ever wanted to take him to obedience school, all I needed to do was call.”
Lorelei passed the telephone to her sister. The conversation was short and to the point. “He says his wife is a light sleeper,” Tura said. “He’ll meet us at his office.”
Lorelei grabbed Spike. Tura set the handcuff keys on the edge of Eden’s dresser. “Harold can let you loose when he comes home,” she said. “Unless he wants to have some fun with you, too.”
“Tell your boyfriend we’ll be back by noon,” Lorelei said. “That’ll leave us plenty of time before the ransom drop.”
“And tell Harold that he’s paying us an extra share for this,” Tura added. “He should have had a backup plan in case the pooch got sick. We shouldn’t have to do all his thinking for him.”
Eden tried to tell them about the Harold Ticks Shuffle. Tura and Lorelei didn’t know about Harold’s real plan. But with the duct tape over her mouth, she couldn’t say a word.
They didn’t need to take the dog to a vet. It only had to live until tomorrow. After that it would be dead, anyway.
Eden watched her sisters walk down the hall. The front door slammed. Tura’s old Chevrolet Apache truck rumbled alive. Tires chewed hard-packed desert earth as Tura, Lorelei, and Spike headed for the highway.
It was quiet for one hour. . then two. . and finally Eden slept.
The sun began to rise. The pillbox window framed a hard square of light that traveled Eden’s naked body.
She squinted and came awake.
She heard Harold’s car.
Satan, she prayed, give me strength. .
Harold said, “This is fucked. The dog is gone. So are your sisters. Your mama’s gone nuts and your daddy’s probably a corpse.” He shook his head. “And you want to know what else? That asshole Jack Baddalach is still alive, and he knows that Tony has something to do with the dognapping.”
Eden didn’t say a word. She just sat there. Harold couldn’t believe it. She just fucking sat there.
Naked. Rubbing her wrists. Crying.
Jesus Christ. Always with the tears.
She wasn’t going to make him feel guilty, though. No way. It wasn’t his fault that he was late getting back. Tony needed him. His brother needed him. Tony was hurting. Man, he couldn’t just walk out on Tony when he was like that. No way.
So they drank two sixes of Olde English. So they took some Percodan. So what?
He wasn’t going to feel guilty. No way.
And this crying shit. It had to stop. Right now.
“Eden, I told you. .” he began. “I told you not to let anyone touch the dog. I told you that, didn’t I?”
She nodded. Big heavy sobs now. Oh, man.
“Fuck,” he said, banging his fist against the door. “Fuck!"
Eden cringed as if he’d hit her. Jesus. His hand all of a sudden felt like it was busted, and she was acting hurt.
“I told you it was important.” Harold tried to stay calm. “I asked if you understood. I told you not to fuck things up.”
Eden looked up at him. Her icy blue eyes were wet with tears, like the irises were melting or something. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Harold picked up his.357. “I even gave you my fucking gun, Eden.”
She opened her arms to him, spread wide, palms open.
Oh, man, he couldn’t take this. Seeing her all fucked up. It was like everything was changing right before his eyes. Like getting out of Corcoran all over again. Like going to that hotel room, opening the door, and seeing that familiar anaconda tattoo on a woman he didn’t even recognize. .
Turning around. Walking out. .
“I’ve got to go set up the drop,” Harold said, even though it was way too early for that.
He couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
“Don’t go,” Eden said. “Don’t go.”
But he did. Harold was already gone when she said it. He had left her behind. And she loved him. She really did.
She couldn’t stop crying. It seemed she would never run out of tears. She had enough for everyone-for Harold, for Tura and Lorelei, for Mama and Daddy, for the little dog. .
Eden cried for all of them.
She did not cry for herself.
It was much too late for that.