Chapter 2 - The Woman With the Bag
"Who is that?" I demanded.
Brandon looked over his shoulder. "Someone who can help you settle down."
The woman from the van approached the front door with a broad-shouldered man. Neither wore a uniform. The bag had straps hanging from its open zipper.
"You hired strangers to take me out of my own house?"
"A short evaluation," Gertrude said. "You can return when you're feeling better."
"Where's the court order?"
Silence.
I pressed the hidden switch under the island. Nothing rang. Nothing flashed. My father had called it a silent security alert, but Brandon claimed he'd canceled that service months ago. I couldn't tell whether I'd reached anyone.
The woman appeared behind Brandon. "Mrs. Vale? I'm Denise, with Harbor Behavioral Transport. Your family tells us you agreed to a voluntary assessment."
"I didn't. Ask her to show you a signed consent form."
Denise glanced at Brandon. He began talking fast. "She's been paranoid about finances. Tonight she threatened me."
"I asked why money went to your shell company. That's not a threat."
Gertrude turned away, but not before I saw her exchange a look with the man carrying the bag.
"Abigail," Denise said carefully, "do you feel safe?"
"Not while the people who locked me in are standing between me and the exit. Call 911."
Brandon crossed the hall in two strides. He pulled Denise aside and spoke into her ear. I couldn't hear him over the extractor fan, which had abruptly started running.
Then I smelled something sharp and hot.
A burner glowed beneath an empty skillet. I hadn't turned it on. The folded kitchen towel beside it was close enough to scorch, and the oil near my feet made the room slick.
"Turn off the stove!" I shouted.
Gertrude didn't move. Brandon stared at me through the glass as if he were waiting for a scene he had rehearsed.
The towel's edge began to smoke.
May you like
I grabbed a pair of tongs and lifted it into the sink. As I reached for the faucet, the emergency panel underneath the island gave one faint vibration.
Somewhere beyond the kitchen, Brandon's phone rang. He answered, listened, and went white.
