He did his homework, I see. To say nothing of Laura’s strange lack of legal troubles, which is starting to make more sense too.
“So, Stephanie, I recommend you put your coat back on because we better be on our way.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, but I can’t keep a tremor out of my voice. “You’re not going to shoot me. That would really mess up your plans.”
His eyebrows rose. “Are you so sure about that?”
“All I’m saying is, it’ll be difficult to explain away. Especially since everyone knows what I’ve been looking into—”
He rolls his eyes. The rictus-like smile returns. “Yes, just like everybody knows you’re a ditzy city girl who spins nonsensical tales about feral children and Satanists for your little podcast. In case this is news to you, no one here takes you seriously, Stephanie. You or your podcast. Me, on the other hand, I have people’s trust and respect, and you know why? Because I earned it. It would have been easier for me to jet off to the big city, but I didn’t. I stayed here. I stayed here and served this town faithfully—”
“Oh please,” I snarl. I’m sweating. I just need to keep him talking until I figure out what to do. “You only stayed because you’d much rather enjoy your status here in Marly than be a nobody somewhere else, someplace where the Bergmann last name doesn’t mean a thing. It’s so much more fun to have these people worship the ground you walk on—not even because of who you are but because of who your father once was. Frank, you’re the definition of ‘peaked in high school.’”
He hits me. I only have time to see his fist careening toward my face, but when it connects, I realize he actually struck me with the grip of his gun.
The pain takes me by surprise. The world flips as he knocks me out of my chair, and when I hit the floor, the impact knocks the breath out of me. My cheekbone pulses with pain. The vision in my right eye swims with blotches, and my ears ring.
“There,” I hear Frank say through the high-pitched sound. “That should teach you trailer trash some manners. You’re right, Stephanie. I don’t want to shoot you, but I will if I have to. If you leave me no other choice.”
“Where is my mom?” I gasp, staring up at him through the haze in front of my vision.
He ignores the question. “Get up,” he says.
“No. Not until you tell me—”
“Get up and exit in an orderly fashion. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“If you kill me,” I say, reaching for my last argument, the one I’d been hoping I wouldn’t need, “if you kill me, no matter what justification you come up with, even if everybody in town eats it up, Luc will never speak to you again.”
Frank laughs.
“Luc and I decided we’re getting back together,” I bluff, seeing how the mention of his son makes him grimace. “That’s right, he’s going to divorce Cath. You can tell the people in this town any dumb lie and they’ll believe it, but what will you tell Luc if you kill me?”
“That’s bullshit,” Frank says. “Luc and you were never going to last. And you sure as hell aren’t getting back together. Bergmanns don’t date trailer trash. Laura can attest to that.”
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? My cheekbone throbs. It’s hard to concentrate.
“I think you don’t get to decide who your son dates,” I say.
“You realize you’re just giving me more reasons to shoot you?” he asks. “There. I see I’m getting through to you. Now kindly get up.”
He holds out his free hand. In the other, he’s got the gun.
“I need my crutch,” I say. “Give me my crutch.”
“No.”
I think I hear a noise. Is it in the house or outside? My gaze darts back and forth, trying to find its source, but Frank doesn’t even blink. Did I imagine it? Hell, I very well could have imagined it.
I have no choice. I grip his left forearm and let him pull me to my feet. I still can’t put much weight on my bad foot, and I balance precariously. I could just pretend to trip and try to pull him to the floor with my weight. But will that be enough? I’ll only get one shot at this. I can’t screw up.
“Let’s go,” Frank says. “Turn around and let’s head for the door. Nice and easy.”
I take the tiniest hop in the direction of the door, still leaning on him. The gun points into my ribs. I take another tiny hop.
“Hurry it up, will you?” Frank snarls softly into my ear, his breath moist on my earlobe. “We don’t have all day.”
“What are you going to do to my mom?” I murmur. My eyes are starting to burn with tears. My vision goes blurry again.
“I’m going to make sure she isn’t spreading rumors,” Frank says. “That’s all. Hopefully Laura will prove to be as cooperative as she’s been until now. Except that one time. It was just before you left. I had to bring her home from the bar one night, she’d had a bit too much and was starting to get ideas. Ideas that would have been bad for—for everyone.”
I remember. That man she brought home right before prom. The one who slapped her.
That had been Frank?
All these years… this whole time…
My God, I really am an idiot.
“Well, I got her to see reason back then, and I will now. She’s a practical woman, our Laura. She could have tried to make a run for it many times over the years, but she never once did. Stayed put like a good girl. Mind you, had she run, things would have ended badly for both of you.”
“Frank, you’re scum,” I say. My voice comes out very tiny.
“Move it,” he snarls. “Enough talking.”
I balance on one leg, pretending to wobble.
That’s when we both clearly hear a sound in the back of the house. Something heavy being knocked over. Frank frowns and whips his head around, gun pointing toward the bedroom door.
