Page 126 of The Lie Maker

Lana shook her head. “Keep the fucking pepper spray. I really need my meds. Let me find my pills.”

Gwen held on to the purse for another moment, trying to decide whether Lana was still up to something. Slowly, she handed over the bag. Lana set it in her lap as she searched it.

“Here we go,” Lana said, taking out a foil blister pack that still had a couple of tiny pills in it. She forced one out of its protective seal, then looked at Cayden.

“Could I have a glass of water?”

He couldn’t have sighed more deeply if Lana had asked him to do her laundry. He tucked the pepper spray down into the front pocket of his jeans, got a glass from the cupboard, and ran some water into it. He walked back and handed Lana the glass.

“Thank you,” she said, putting the pill on her tongue and washing it down with one gulp. She handed the glass back to Cayden.

Lana dropped the pills back into her bag, then reached for a tissue to wipe her nose.

“Are you quite done?” Gwen asked.

“Yeah,” she said, hoping that as she withdrew her hand from the purse for the last time, Gwen would not notice that she had made a fist.

“Tie her back up,” Gwen told Cayden. “And turn off that fan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Lana obliged by putting her arms behind the chair, her two hands still fists. Cayden cinched them together with another plastic cuff.

Neither he nor Gwen knew that there was one other self-defense tool tucked away in that purse. Something less obvious than the pepper-spray key chain. The little gadget Florence Knight had given Lana.

The lipstick knife.

Sixty-Six

Jack

I said, “You stuffed him in the trunk?”

Dad, putting the car in gear and hitting the gas, looked unruffled as he said, “I had a feeling he might not stay in the car, even if I asked him nicely. Good thing this is an older BMW. Doesn’t have one of those emergency escape handles in the trunk. He’ll be in there until we let him out.”

I was speechless.

Dad said, “I spotted him coming out with the crowd. Went up to him, asked if he was Garth Walton, and he said yes, and I said he was my wife’s favorite actor, which might have been pushing it a bit, because really, he’s not been in all that much and he’s not all that famous, but I guess actors are vain enough to fall for that kind of thing. I said my wife used a cane, and was in the car, and would he please come and say hello?”

At least he’d confirmed that it was Walton. Bad enough that he—okay, that we—had kidnapped someone. It would have been even worse if we’d nabbed the wrong person.

“When we got to the car and he didn’t see anyone, that’s when I put the gun to his gut and kindly asked him to get into the trunk.” Dad held up a cell phone. “I took this off him, turned it off. Soon as I see a good place to pull over, we’ll have a talk.”

I hadn’t even noticed that Dad had brought a gun. I was betting relocated witnesses weren’t supposed to have a gun. Maybe he’d borrowed it from Gord.

Dad did a few twists and turns through downtown streets and finally found a spot that looked secluded enough that someone wouldn’t observe us getting a man out of the trunk. He came to a stop, killed the engine, and the two of us got out. We went around to the back and Dad lightly rapped on the trunk lid.

“Mr.Walton, we’re going to open the trunk, but I caution you against trying anything. I have no interest in hurting you, but I will if necessary. Do you understand?”

A muffled, frightened “Yes” came from inside.

Dad opened the trunk. A light came on, bright enough for us to see him clearly, curled up in the fetal position, surrounded by Lana’s hard hat, safety vest, and other items. He squinted and focused on me. It took him a moment to realize that he had seen me someplace before.

“Hi,” I said. “Last time we met, you were going by the name Bill.”

He blinked several times. Adjusting to the light and making sure it was really me.

“Jesus, this can’t be happening,” he said.

“I have to say, it was a terrific performance. Not the play. Didn’t have a chance to see the play. But your gig at the cabin. The whole Russian torture thing with the gas down the throat? That was a nice touch. Where’d you get that from? A James Bond movie?”

---