Perhaps, if he really did plan to give the woman and her twins the money, which I seriously doubted, he was going to present it to Ludmilla at the house, who could then call her mother to report that everything had gone as planned. Then, presumably, Mom would drive back over and pick up her daughter, and me.

I did not want that to happen.

I suspected a fate similar to Brian Sandler’s—a deep-fry experience—awaited me. It’s hard to tell the authorities about a health department payoff scam, and other illegal business operating out of the back of a restaurant, when your lips have been melted off.

I had to ride this out, hope for something to go wrong for Merker, the smallest distraction, anything.

I had to get Katie out of this.

I had to get Sarah out of this.

If I could manage those two things, I’d start looking for a way to get myself out too.

Merker wheeled the truck around a corner, paying no attention to the stop sign. If only there’d been a cop in the vicinity. If he wasn’t careful, Merker would finally have his money, be set for life—or at least a good chunk of it—only to lose it all over a stupid traffic violation.

We were back on our street, Crandall. Merker slowed, not familiar enough with the street to know our house instantly. “Just up here,” I said.

“Oh yeah,” he said, and pulled in behind Trixie’s GF300, blocking it. “Okay, kids, we’re home. Everybody out.”

He was out first, his truck keys looped onto a finger of his left hand, which was carrying the bag of cash, the gun in his right. He came swiftly around to the other side, watched me and Sarah warily as we stepped down out of the Ford.

He ushered us along in front of him, up the front porch steps. Before we’d reached the front door, he shouted, “Leo! Hey, Leo!”

The door opened, but instead of being greeted by Merker’s partner, it was Ludmilla letting us in. Her eyebrows went up a notch when she saw Sarah, evidently surprised that there was a new guest coming to the party.

Katie was lying down on the couch, but not sleeping. As soon as Sarah saw her, she went to her. “Hey, you must be Katie. I’m Sarah.”

Katie looked at her with tired eyes and said nothing. She’d met too many bad people in the last twenty-four hours to trust anyone new right off the bat.

“I’m Zack’s wife,” she said, her voice full of reassurance. “How are you holding up? Do you need something to eat? Have they been feeding you?”

There was no sign of Merker’s associate.

“Where the hell is Leo?” he asked Ludmilla.

“Upstairs,” she said. “In the bathroom. He is not feeling well.”

“What do you mean, not feeling well?”