that you know I’m entitled and that you’ll say you never saw my face.”
Marnie froze in shock, momentarily forgetting the bottle. A confusion of thoughts bombarded her.
“I can’t let you go, otherwise,” Leah went on urgently. “I have to think of myself. You do see that? I would like the money—I’m entitled, you’re right. And maybe later on you and I could meet, and pretend to only discover then that we’re sisters, and
then
I could change my name.” She paused. Her eyes pleaded.
Marnie swallowed. “Oh,” she managed feebly. “That’s an idea. So … so, we’d write the ransom note together, you and I, and get you the money, and then you’d let me go, and we’d meet up later on, like in a year or two? Is that what you’re thinking?”
“Yes,” said Leah. “Yes!”
She is nuts, Marnie thought. If she were Leah, she certainly wouldn’t trust the promise of a captive. Why, even if Marnie actually did keep the secret, there would be evidence all over the place, and did Leah Slaight think it wouldn’t be suspicious if sheleft Halsett abruptly? Did she think the police, the FBI, whoever, were that dumb? Did she think Max wouldn’t be quick to trace the ransom money?
Let’s hope she is that dumb
, said the Sorceress dryly.
But it wasn’t just dumb, Marnie thought. It was pitiful, sad. This woman wanted a sister, a mother, so badly … Marnie could understand….
No, don’t get sympathetic! She’s dangerous! Never forget that.
“I don’t want to kill you,” said Leah intensely. “And I would trust your word.”
“You would?” Marnie’s mind whirled. Was this a better option than trying to escape? Should she trust Leah, take the “do nothing” choice?
Beneath her fingers lay the bottle. She might never again have such a perfect opportunity, with Leah distracted, the door open.
Marnie wasn’t conscious of thinking, of sorting through her options and choosing a particular path. She fixed her eyes on Leah’s. She watched as Leah released the gun in her lap and lifted both hands in a pleading gesture. “Let’s be sisters,” Leah said. “For real.”
This is it
, urged the Sorceress.
She’s not touching the gun, the door is open, the bottle is ready. Trust yourself, not her.
“Promise me,” Leah said again. “Promise me, as Skye’s daughter. Promise me, on her soul.” She held her empty hands out. Her eyes bore into Marnie’s. “Promise me—as my sister.”
I could just lie to her, Marnie thought frantically. Or I could actually keep the promise—it wouldn’tmake any difference. The evidence would speak for me. And if I took this risk now, if something went wrong …
The Sorceress was silent. She had already spoken. Marnie was on her own.
Marnie looked directly at Leah. “I promise,” she said.
She watched Leah shut her eyes, in deep emotion.
And in that moment, Marnie lifted the seltzer bottle, gave it a final, sharp shake, and, in one beautiful flow of movement, leapt to her feet, untwisted the cap, and aimed the bottle opening directly at Leah.
CHAPTER
17
T he seltzer exploded even more spectacularly than Marnie had hoped, showering everything in a 270-degree arc centered on Marnie’s hands. Moving forward in the same instant—a bare second before Leah yelped—Marnie threw the bottle forcefully in the direction of Leah’s head and sprinted toward the door.
Go for the gun, go for the gun!
yelled the Sorceress, but Marnie didn’t pause. She grabbed the door and flung it wide.
Shut her in, then!
demanded the Sorceress, and Marnie wasted a precious moment grabbing the knob and slamming the door behind her. In the very next second she heard the padlock fall to the floor and bounce out of arm’s reach. There wasn’t time to grab it, get it back into place, close it, lock Leah in. Marnie’s chest rose and fell. Suddenly and with utter clarity, she knew the Sorceress had been right: she should’ve thrown herself on top ofLeah and tried to grab the gun.
Marnie froze in shock, momentarily forgetting the bottle. A confusion of thoughts bombarded her.
“I can’t let you go, otherwise,” Leah went on urgently. “I have to think of myself. You do see that? I would like the money—I’m entitled, you’re right. And maybe later on you and I could meet, and pretend to only discover then that we’re sisters, and
then
I could change my name.” She paused. Her eyes pleaded.
Marnie swallowed. “Oh,” she managed feebly. “That’s an idea. So … so, we’d write the ransom note together, you and I, and get you the money, and then you’d let me go, and we’d meet up later on, like in a year or two? Is that what you’re thinking?”
“Yes,” said Leah. “Yes!”
She is nuts, Marnie thought. If she were Leah, she certainly wouldn’t trust the promise of a captive. Why, even if Marnie actually did keep the secret, there would be evidence all over the place, and did Leah Slaight think it wouldn’t be suspicious if sheleft Halsett abruptly? Did she think the police, the FBI, whoever, were that dumb? Did she think Max wouldn’t be quick to trace the ransom money?
Let’s hope she is that dumb
, said the Sorceress dryly.
But it wasn’t just dumb, Marnie thought. It was pitiful, sad. This woman wanted a sister, a mother, so badly … Marnie could understand….
No, don’t get sympathetic! She’s dangerous! Never forget that.
“I don’t want to kill you,” said Leah intensely. “And I would trust your word.”
“You would?” Marnie’s mind whirled. Was this a better option than trying to escape? Should she trust Leah, take the “do nothing” choice?
Beneath her fingers lay the bottle. She might never again have such a perfect opportunity, with Leah distracted, the door open.
Marnie wasn’t conscious of thinking, of sorting through her options and choosing a particular path. She fixed her eyes on Leah’s. She watched as Leah released the gun in her lap and lifted both hands in a pleading gesture. “Let’s be sisters,” Leah said. “For real.”
This is it
, urged the Sorceress.
She’s not touching the gun, the door is open, the bottle is ready. Trust yourself, not her.
“Promise me,” Leah said again. “Promise me, as Skye’s daughter. Promise me, on her soul.” She held her empty hands out. Her eyes bore into Marnie’s. “Promise me—as my sister.”
I could just lie to her, Marnie thought frantically. Or I could actually keep the promise—it wouldn’tmake any difference. The evidence would speak for me. And if I took this risk now, if something went wrong …
The Sorceress was silent. She had already spoken. Marnie was on her own.
Marnie looked directly at Leah. “I promise,” she said.
She watched Leah shut her eyes, in deep emotion.
And in that moment, Marnie lifted the seltzer bottle, gave it a final, sharp shake, and, in one beautiful flow of movement, leapt to her feet, untwisted the cap, and aimed the bottle opening directly at Leah.
CHAPTER
17
T he seltzer exploded even more spectacularly than Marnie had hoped, showering everything in a 270-degree arc centered on Marnie’s hands. Moving forward in the same instant—a bare second before Leah yelped—Marnie threw the bottle forcefully in the direction of Leah’s head and sprinted toward the door.
Go for the gun, go for the gun!
yelled the Sorceress, but Marnie didn’t pause. She grabbed the door and flung it wide.
Shut her in, then!
demanded the Sorceress, and Marnie wasted a precious moment grabbing the knob and slamming the door behind her. In the very next second she heard the padlock fall to the floor and bounce out of arm’s reach. There wasn’t time to grab it, get it back into place, close it, lock Leah in. Marnie’s chest rose and fell. Suddenly and with utter clarity, she knew the Sorceress had been right: she should’ve thrown herself on top ofLeah and tried to grab the gun.
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