Page 68 of Under the Radar

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The doorbell rang.

Alice continued folding the laundry she’d dumped onto the couch. She wasn’t answering that door for nobody. Last time she’d answered the door, she’d gotten beat so bad both eyes were black and blue. To hell with that. For all she knew, the goons were testing her and just hoping she’d answer the door so they could beat on her again. Pack of friggin’ animals.

The doorbell rang a second time. Alice dropped a pair of boxers mid-fold and wrung her hands. What if it was one of the guys who lived here? What if they’d forgotten their key? She’d get beat for that too. Her cold hands rubbed her thin arms. Just one glance through the peephole? That would be good common sense.

She tiptoed to the door and peeked. A florist? Alice shook her head and stepped back. Nobody got flowers in this neighborhood. Especially not her. There was no love in this section of the hood, just pain, drugs, and shootings. She shuffled back to the laundry pile. They’d go away in a minute, and she’d avoid another slapping.

Three perfectly folded towels later, the bell rang again followed by loud banging on the door. Frightened, she knocked over the tower of folded laundry and glanced upstairs. The babies were still asleep, but they wouldn’t be for long if whoever banged another time. She rubbed her knuckles against the worn cotton of her jeans and took a few steps toward the peephole to look out. It was the same smiling delivery man.

Another pounding series of knocks on the door ensued, and Alice yelped with indecision as a baby whimpered on the monitor. With trembling fingers, she unlocked the two deadbolts as her sweaty palm turned the door handle. She cracked it open a couple inches and peered into the eyes of the delivery guy. “You got the wrong address. No flowers ordered here.” She leaned against the door to shut it when the chain lock flew at her and she sailed backward with a force she hadn’t anticipated. She landed on the rug with a thud and a scream.

Alice scrambled to her knees and crawled as fast as she could toward the back of the house. By all that was unholy, they meant to kill her this time. She uttered a silent prayer for the babies. One bullet to her head would end it all any second now.

Hands the size of bear paws hauled her off the floor and shoved her flat against the wall by the stairs. One of those hands covered her mouth, and the other held a gun to her head. Tears blurred her vision. She couldn’t see the face of her aggressor.

“I’ll ask the questions, and you’ll nod yes or no. Understood?”

She nodded.

“Is there anyone else in the house?”

Alice shook her head. She’d never tell them about the babies.

The blur of several large men whizzed past her, calling out to each other as they cleared rooms on the first floor.

She gagged as the guy with huge hands continued his siege. Surely, they’d find the place empty except for the babies and then kill her as retribution. What if she’d let a rival gang into the house? Terror flowed like ice water through her veins.

A puff of air grazed her neck as the group of men passed her again and ran up the stairs. They kept their communications short and quick as the overhead thunder of boots grew louder than the infant wails. Alice’s chest heaved with contrite sobs. All she’d ever wanted was to be a good mama to her babies. If there was any justice in this world, they’d kill her first—let the kids live. Social Services would take them. She deserved to die anyway, for the way she’d lived before the little ones were born.

A deep male voice yelled down the stairs, “Clear.”

A tall man with deep brown eyes walked over, took her hands, and examined her arms. “You using?”

She shook her head. The hand that covered her mouth moved to her shoulder and pressed it against the wall. It hurt like hell.

“I’m Mac. We’re looking for someone, and we’re quite sure she was here recently. Do you know anything about that?”

Alice shook her head again and swallowed sickly. She wasn’t saying shit to a rival gang.

Mac narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

She shrugged her free shoulder. “What gang you from? You broke the front door. A bullet is a bullet, makes no difference which street thug delivers it. They’ll kill me anyway for letting you in.”

Mac crossed his arms and took a step back. “We’re a rescue team, not a gang. Don’t play with me, lady. You either know something or you don’t.”

“I don’t know nothing.” Alice closed her eyes. It’d be over any second. No point in watching Bear Paws raise his gun.

The infant wails reached epic volume. Mac cleared his throat. “Are those your kids upstairs?”

Alice opened her eyes. “Please don’t hurt them, mister. They didn’t do nothing. They just babies.”

Mac nodded. “We won’t hurt those kids. But somebody needs a diaper and a bottle. We’re staying here and you’re standing there until I get some answers. How’s the Chinese in this section of town? Any good carryout restaurants? What do you say, Ethan, want some Kung Pao?”

Ethan dug his thumb into a pressure point on Alice’s shoulder. “Hooyah.”

Alice whimpered and bit her lip. “You looking for Mo Reardon?”