Maggie understands in that instant that there is no escape.
The men are here to kill her.
She hears laughter and turns to see the teenage boys wrapping towels around their necks and heading for the door. Which means that, in a matter of seconds, she’ll be alone with these men.
And seconds after that, she’ll almost certainly be dead.
“Wait!” she calls, breathlessly, to the teenagers as they walk toward the door. But they don’t hear her over the whir of the treadmill, and in the next instant, they’re out the door. Immediately, Maggie presses the red emergency Stop button on the treadmill, bringing it to an instant halt and throwing her backward off the machine. She scrambles to stay upright as both men move toward her.
Maggie feels one hand on her back and another on her arm. She sees a snake tattoo wrap around her wrist. “Please,” she cries.
“You all right?” the taller man asks, the natural sneer of his lips at odds with the seemingly genuine concern in his eyes.
“Please just let me go.”
“Sure thing, Maggie,” he says, releasing her arm. “Just making sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Please, I have to go.”
The man steps out of her way.
“Maggie,” the other man calls.
Maggie freezes, bracing for the impact of a bullet to her back.
“I think you’re forgetting something.”
Maggie turns toward the man in the Harley-Davidson T-shirt. He smiles and lifts one muscular tattooed arm toward her. In his fingers is the canvas bag with her gun.
She gasps and grabs the bag, clutching it to her chest, the Glock 19 snapping against her sternum. “How do you know my name?”
He offers a sheepish smile. “It was on the sign-in sheet. You were the only woman here, so I figured…Sorry if that freaked you out.”
Maggie nods, unable to move.
“You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Yes. Yes, I…I’m fine. Thank you.” She walks quickly to the door, then stops, turns back around. “Enjoy your workout,” she offers weakly.
“Have a nice night.”
—
She’s in her living room, still in her sweat-stained exercise gear, and nursing her third glass of red wine when Craig returns with Erin and Leo.
“Everything okay?” he asks, after both kids have retreated to their respective rooms.
Maggie takes a deep breath. “I think we should get Erin a car.”
He looks surprised. “I thought you were opposed to the idea.”
“I was,” Maggie admits. “But I’ve been thinking about it. Palm Beach Gardens isn’t the easiest place in the world to get around without one. I’m working now, and once school starts again, it’ll be difficult to keep chauffeuring the kids everywhere. This way, Erin can drive Leo to and from school, and, I don’t know, it just seems like it’s the right time….”
“I agree.”
“So, can you look into it, see if you can get a deal on something?”
“That depends.”