No One To Trust. Melody Carlson

she jumped as the bathroom door opened. “I found something for you,” Jon said as he closed the door, then turned on the light. He held up a velour jogging suit.

      “Purple,” she said with raised brows. “Interesting.”

      He frowned. “Sorry. It was dark in there. I couldn’t see the color.”

      “I’m not complaining.” She smiled. “I’ve just never been a fan of purple.” She reached to touch the soft fabric. “But it does look warm. Thanks!”

      “I’ll get this guy some food.” Jon took Ralph from her. “Go ahead and clean up and change. Just douse the light before you come out because I, uh, I noticed the police car still cruising around out there.”

      “You mean Krantz’s unmarked car?” she asked with concern.

      Jon’s brow creased. “No, it’s a marked car.”

      “A marked car? A real police car?”

      “Yeah. From the city. According to my parents, they don’t usually patrol out here much. I mean, we’re out of the city limits. But the county doesn’t patrol these parts at all. So I guess they’ve sort of contracted it to the city. But my dad always says it’s kind of a no-man’s-land out here.”

      Half of what he said went over her, but the one fact she could hold on to was that a police cruiser was patrolling around, probably looking for them, and it wasn’t Krantz. “What does this mean?” she whispered.

      “I’m not sure.” He pointed to the purple warm-ups. “You’re cold. Get those on and I’ll go feed Ralph some food and a tranquilizer. And then we can talk.” He sighed. “And attempt to figure this mess out.”

      “It is a mess, isn’t it?”

      He just nodded, turning off the light, then opening the door and leaving, closing the door behind him.

      Ten minutes later Leah emerged from the bathroom considerably warmer and dryer in Jon’s mother’s sweatpants and hoodie, having freshened up a bit in the sink, rinsed her soiled running clothes and hung them in the bathtub to dry. A real bath sounded lovely. But not here. Not now. Not with Krantz and his “pals” prowling the neighborhood. What was going on anyway?

      As she tiptoed through the unlit and quiet kitchen, she noticed lights outside and suddenly, like before, the bright beam was passing through the house’s interior again. Afraid her silhouette might show up, she hit the floor, waiting behind the kitchen doorway as the startling searchlight swept over the premises. Had they figured it out?

      When the light beam was pointing away from her, she crawled past the entry to the kitchen. Her heart pounded in fear as she wondered where Jon and Ralph were hiding. Surely they hadn’t left the house. Jon wouldn’t abandon her here by herself. Then, remembering the few minutes she had crouched in pitch-black darkness behind the locked door on the basement stairs, she decided to try it again.

      She was just crawling toward the hallway when she heard a loud pounding on the front door. Bracing herself for the sound of Ralph’s barks, she prayed that he’d stay quiet. The pounding persisted, almost as if someone felt certain this was their hideout. “Open up!” a voice yelled as another ray of light swept through the windows in front—flashing over the shadowy furnishings in a way that made her feel like a hunted animal. Like someone’s prey. She remained frozen, cowering by a china hutch, and still a few feet from the hallway and the door to the basement. Praying for invisibility, she felt her heart lurch with each loud bang on the door.

      “I know you’re in there!” a loud male voice boomed through the wooden door. Probably Krantz’s. “Come out, or I’m coming in!”

      Seeing the light sweeping the other side of the house, Leah made her break through the darkness, quietly scrambling to the safety of the hallway, where she crouched against the wall and waited in fear while Krantz continued pounding and shouting. Certain he was about to kick down the front door, she tried to think—what could she do?

      She reached up to try the doorknob to the basement, but it was locked. She suspected Jon and Ralph had gone down there and considered knocking on it, but was afraid it might get Krantz’s attention. And what if Jon opened it with a light on down there? As Krantz continued to pound and shout, she wondered if he really did have a search warrant—and if so, could he legally kick down the door? But then she decided that was just as bogus as him having an arrest warrant for her. But why had he made such a claim? What had been his real intent? And why was he so relentless in his search for them? Well, aside from the fact that they could both accuse him of attempted murder. That was probably more than enough to make him want to silence them.

      Just when it felt as if her heart were about to hammer out of her chest, the basement door cracked open and she heard Jon whispering, “Come on. Hurry.”

      “Wait,” she whispered back, watching as the flashlight swept through the front room again. Even though it didn’t reach into the hallway, she was too scared to move. Then, as it illuminated the other side, she slipped around the opened door, entered the basement and silently closed and locked the door behind her, then sat on the steps, trying to hold back tears of fear and desperation.

      “You’re trembling,” Jon said in a low murmur as he put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m guessing it’s not from being cold.”

      “Krantz is out there,” she reported in a hushed tone. “He’s beating on the door—right now. Can’t you hear it?”

      “I thought I heard something, but I hoped it was you.”

      “Listen,” she whispered frantically. “That’s him pounding—he’s threatening to kick the door down.”

      Jon pulled her closer, holding her a little tighter. “There’s nothing we can do about that right now.”

      “But what if he does break in?” she asked in a shaky voice. “What if he kicks the door in and enters the house?”

      “Then we’ll get him charged with breaking and entering as well as attempted kidnapping, attempted murder, reckless endangerment and several other substantial charges that should get him locked up for a while.” Jon’s voice didn’t sound nearly as brave as his words insinuated. Not that she could blame him. She was so scared she felt sick to her stomach. “We’ve got so much on him that, once he’s convicted, he’ll be put away for a long time, Leah.”

      “Not if he kills us first—that’s what he wants to do. I know it.” She let out a little sob. “What is wrong with him? Why is he doing this? Why won’t he just leave us alone?”

      “Because we know too much about him.”

      “What do we really know?”

      “Just that he’s hiding behind his badge while breaking the law. That he’s a bad cop. That’s enough to make him worried. And my suspicion is that we’ve only scratched the surface with him. This guy has a lot to hide. Enough to make it worth his while to get rid of both of us.”

      She didn’t doubt that. Even so, it brought no comfort. No hope. As they sat there clinging to each other on the inky staircase, she knew that her only hope—their only hope—was God. She prayed for God’s help—and for the faith to believe He really could deliver them from this madness.

FOUR

      When the banging overhead finally ceased, Jon kept his arm around Leah, both of them just sitting there and listening to the silence. Finally he helped her to stand and gently guided her down the steep dark stairs.

      “Careful,” he warned quietly.

      “Do you think he’s really gone? That he gave up?”

      “It sounds like it.”

      “But why was he so insistent?” she continued. “Do you think he really knows we’re in here?”

      “I