Ellen McKenzie 04-Murder Half-Baked by Kathleen Delaney

must have tipped him off.”
    This had to be Janice. But who had seen them, and why did that make her g o pale and give her voice a tremor?
    “Emily, get down. Ian, let go. We’re fine now.” She tried unsuccessfully to detach the little girl from her hip. Her sweatpants slid down a little f a rther, revealing a pair of bright blue underpants. She flushed, shifted the child, and pulled her sweats back up. The boy just moved his grip from her hand to her arm.
    “He was waiting for us when we came out.” Margaret tried hard to act calm and controlled, but her voice trembled and the look on her face was a combination of fury and fear. She put her purse down on the counter and went to the refrigerator. “Ian, how about some juice? The doctor said you needed lots of fluids. Look, orange juice.” She took a glass from the cupboard and filled it. “Come on, let’s sit here at the counter. Mommy will sit right beside you.”
    Ian detached himself from his mother , climbed up on one of the stools , and started to devour the cookies Margaret had put beside the juice. Janice sat down beside him, still holding the little girl, offering her a cookie and a sip from the second glass Margaret set in front of them. Her hand shook so badly the juice spilled onto the counter.
    During all of this Anne waited, anxiety showing through the veneer of her patience. Margaret put the juice carton back into the refrigerator and walked around the counter toward the table. Anne followed. So did I. Margaret raised one eyebrow. Anne glanced my way as if about to ask me to leave. She didn’t. “Did he follow you?”
    “He sure tried,” Margaret said grimly. A grin broke over her face but immediately faded. “He was no match for Nascar Margaret , though. I saw him about the same time he saw us and managed to leave him behind at that long light on Main and Chestnut. I thought he was going to run it . M aybe he did, but he hesitated too long. I made a couple of quick turns and lost him.”
    “Are you sure?”
    Margaret’s grim look was back. “No.”
    Neither said anything for a moment. “Okay.” Anne looked at Janice , who still clutched the little girl tightly. “Janice, what will he do now? I mean, he saw you. He knows you’re someplace close. What will he do?”
    “Try and find us.” She looked down at the child on her lap and stroked her hair. “That’s why I asked Margaret to park the car in the garage. He’ll remember it. He’ll be driving around right now, trying to locate it.”
    Driving around? Trying to find them? Could she mean … I’d read Anna Quinlan’s Black and Blue . I’d seen The Burning Bed on TV. Could this be … surely not.
    Anne thought for a moment, her mouth set in a grim line. “I think our timetable just got moved up. It’s time to get you out of here. Margaret, can you help them pack?” She turned to me. “Ellen, would you go tell Nathan I need him? Now. I’m going to make a couple of phone calls.”
    Janice had been watching us with hooded eyes. “We can’t take Margaret’s car.”
    “I know.” Anne already had the phone and was dialing. “Go get ready to leave.”
    Janice slid off the stool, shifted the child to her hip, handed her the one remaining cookie, helped the boy off the stool, and started for the hallway that led to the bedrooms. No one said a word, not even the children. Margaret looked at Anne, shook her head, sighed, and hurried after them. I watched them go. The sense of danger, impending danger, was heavy in the air, making it difficult to breathe. Or maybe that was fear. Those books, the movie, were just stories, horrible … but stories. This was real, and I was having a hard time believing it. After all, this was just some guy looking for his wife and kids. How dangerous could that be?
    Anne was already talking to someone, so I started for the living room. I met Nathan head on.
    “What’s happened?”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “At least I don’t understand.