Page 107 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

Elyse nearly fainted.

Her tense muscles relaxed.

“Loud!” the baby said, unconcerned.

“Oh yeah.” Elyse took a few deep breaths and then slowly accelerated, easing into traffic, her heart still madly pumping, her headache sweeping back with gale force.

She kept the needle of her speedometer right under the speed limit. Shaking inside, she was more than careful as she wound her way northward and finally reached the alley behind the bungalow where Marla was hiding.

This ought to be good, she thought, hauling the baby and a blanket out of the car.

“Down!” he said as she started carrying him to the back door. “I get down.”

“Not yet.”

“Down.”

“In a second.” Elyse hauled him up the back porch, and as she fumbled in her purse for her keys, she heard a hiss. That damned cat again.

“Kitty!” Now the boy was a whirling dervish. Eyes on the cat as it hissed again and slunk into the shadows, he wrestled with Elyse to be free. “Kitty!”

“Yeah, that’s what it is,” she said as she found her key and jammed it into the lock. “A cat.”

“Want kitty.”

“No, you don’t. That’s one nasty thing,” Elyse said, then realized she was making too much noise. That nosy neighbor across the street was peering through her blinds again, not that she could see anything. Nonetheless, Elyse had to be careful.

She slipped inside the house, and the baby said, “Eew. Stinks!”

&nbs

p; “That it does,” she agreed, reminding herself to get more air-fresheners. If Marla would ever get off her bony ass and clean the place, it would help, but it was never going to happen. Well, she was in for a surprise tonight. “Shh,” Elyse said and fought the blasted headache as she descended the stairs into the old, musty basement.

God, how could Marla stand it down here?

Her footsteps seemed to ring on the floorboards as she passed the rusting washer and eased to the bookcase where she unlatched the hidden lock. With her free hand, she pulled the door open.

God, the smell was worse in here.

The kid started whimpering.

“You’re fine,” she said tautly.

The door swung open, and Marla was inside, sitting in front of the television as always, her eyes glued to the news.

“Do you see that?” she said without looking up. “What kind of moron are you? Your picture’s all over the place! They caught you on camera, there at the medical center. Jesus Christ, Elyse, how do you think we’re ever going to escape?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled.”

“The village idiot would do a better job!”

Ungrateful bitch.

“Don’t worry about that now,” Elyse said. “Turn around, Marla. I think it’s time you met your grandson.”

Chapter 19

Marla gazed at her grandson as if he were from a different planet. “What have you done?”

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