In a word, it was creepy.
In another, it terrified her.
“I have to go.” Mallory leaped around Peter and shot out the front door, so grateful to gulp the warm August air. Bruce and Elsa stepped out behind her, apologizing to Peter and Agnes for her behavior.
“She just doesn’t feel well,” Elsa said brightly.
As Mallory whipped her seatbelt over her chest, she muttered, “Mom, we have to get out of here as quickly as we can.”
Peter remained on the front step with his shoulders stretched back in a domineering way. Mallory half-expected him to pull out a gun and start shooting. Only his eyes gave him away. Suddenly, it occurred to Mallory that she was the most powerful woman on the planet. She’d seen what he’d done. And she could pinpoint his crimes and put him in prison for decades.
“Honey! Where were you for so long? Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” Elsa shrieked.
Bruce backed his car out of the driveway, beckoning for them to follow. Elsa dropped them out of the driveway and into the road, her hands quivering.
“We have to call the police,” Mallory barked suddenly, surprising herself.
“Now? Why?”
“All of our stuff was downstairs, Mom. All of it.”
Elsa’s eyes widened with surprise. The car wavered on the road, nearly taking out a mailbox. “Are you sure?”
Mallory grabbed her phone and dialed Bruce’s number. He picked up on the first ring.
“He’s got our stuff,” Mallory shot out, her ears ringing. “You came just in time. I thought he was going to hurt us.”
“Call the police,” Bruce ordered. “With that said, I can’t imagine he won’t try to make a run for it. He knows what you saw.”
Bruce pulled off to the side of the road and stopped. Elsa parked behind him, leaping out and rushing toward Bruce. She threw her arms around him, howling with tremendous pain. Mallory called the police, detailing Peter’s address and what she’d seen. Within the next ten minutes, the sound of sirens wailed out across the sweeping green hills of the Vineyard.
But the chaos wasn’t over. Not yet.