Skyden raced down the hallway, stopping at the top of the staircase, sick at leaving her daughter with the lunatic. "We, uh... we need more time," she shouted.

Orion appeared at the bottom of the stairs and read the crumbled expression on Skyden's gray face.

"We can't..." Skyden's voice broke and she barely held it together. "We need a few more minutes. A few more."

Orion mouthed, "He's up there."

Skyden nodded.

"Okay," Orion said, raising her voice a notch. "You need a little more time? We can do that." She winked at Skyden. "We'll go get a cup of coffee and be back in a bit. Okay?"

"Yeah," was the most Skyden could manage. She watched the detective walk away and heard the door close. Before she returned to Kelsey's room, Skyden's watch buzzed.

Stay calm. Keep him in the front room.

Stepping off the porch past her partner, Patrice said, "We need to go." She trotted to their car.

Lloyd followed. "What?"

She didn't reply, immersed in the crisp, cool air settling in for the evening.

"Treece. What?" Down the street, a big, boxy Land Rover made a turn into a driveway and slowed as it growled and rolled into the garage. The garage door slowly descended.

Patrice slipped into the detective's unmarked car, waiting for her partner to get behind the wheel. "He's in there," she said before Lloyd could start the vehicle.

"Walter's in the house?" He looked back over his shoulder. "He's got the girl?"

She nodded, the veins in her neck pulsing. "Now he has both of them."

"Damn it," said Lloyd. "So now it's SWAT."

She lowered her head, blew out a rush of frustration. He put the car in gear and steered away from the curb. A short distance down the road she said, "Stop the car."

He hit the brakes just out of sight of the McKenzie's house. Patrice pushed open her door.

He leaned across the seat. "Where you going, Treece?"

"To the neighbor's house." They kept their voices low.

"Wait. Wait. Hold up. What's the plan?"

"Hopefully, use the Washington's front room as an observation post."

Lloyd gave it some thought. "You think they'll go for that?"

"It's worth a try. Pop the trunk. I need the field glasses."

He released the trunk and she met him at the rear of the vehicle. "You're gonna give those folks matching heart attacks," he said. Patrice grabbed the binoculars.

He looked around at the stately homes and their picture-perfect properties with dozens of windows awash in a soft yellow glow and blue pulsing light from big screen TVs, an unlikely location for a SWAT situation.

"Didn't she say her husband was on his way home?" he said.

"See if you can intercept him. I think he drives a BMW."

"Doesn't everybody in this neighborhood?"

Orion narrowed her eyes, squinting toward the properties across the street. "Maybe have the first SWAT team park down below and come in the back way through the field before the tactical trucks roll up."

"Makes sense but I'm not the SWAT commander."

"You can talk to Walsh. He'll listen to you." She closed the trunk. "If Walter sees SWAT out here in the street, he'll kill both those girls. And no hostage negotiator on the planet is gonna have a chance in hell of talking him out of it."

........

Walter looked up when Skyden hurried into her daughter's room. She approached the bed, horrified.

Perched on the edge of the mattress like a spider monkey, he brandished the box cutter. "Stay back."

Kelsey appeared unconscious, lying on her side, her wrists and ankles secured with Zip Ties. Walter raised the back of Kelsey's t-shirt and examined her.

"Don't you touch her!" Skyden glowered, her fear giving way to anger.

"She doesn't... she doesn't have any tattoos, does she?" He sounded like a curious little boy.

"Get your hands off of her!" Skyden reached for his arm. Walter swung awkwardly, sending Skyden tumbling to the floor.

"You didn't let her deface her beautiful body, did you?" he said, his temper rising. "Girls should be clean. And soft. And smooth."

Skyden leveled a dark gaze at Walter. "Let her go." She stood, fists clenched.

"Tattoos are for drunks and whores. And–"

She inched forward. "Let her go!"

"Don't use those voices," he said, his nervous tic distorting his face. "Stay back. You think I don't know what you're trying to do?"

"Go, Walter. Get out! You don't have much time."

His face clenched like a fist. "Don't have much time?"

"The police just left. They'll be coming back. Soon." She said it like a warning and it was. "If you run now, right now, you have a chance."

"I won't be distracted. I have focus, clear thoughts. I won't let people get in my way. That's how people get hurt. That's how people die." He said it casually as though for him, people dying was on par with brushing his teeth or taking out the trash, an ordinary, necessary chore and the coldness of it jolted her.

The bedroom slowly folded in on itself opening a world of murky watercolored images and rubbery echoes. The floor seemed to drop out beneath Skyden's feet and she felt like she was suspended in air floating, helpless to intervene, a partitioned spectator.

When Kelsey's arms twitched, Skyden hissed, "Put down that knife and step away–"

He pointed the blade at her. "You don't get to say what I do. No, you don't. Stop talking." He wiped the saliva from his lip with the back of his hand. "I make the rules. I'm in control. Not you."

She watched her daughter's shoulder slowly rise and fall with her shallow breaths. "What did you do to her?"

"I know. I know what I'm doing. She'll be all right. If I wanted her dead..." He looked down at Kelsey and his voice softened. "No matter what happens, you will always own my heart." He admired her pretty face. "Always, Skyden. Always."

"Walter, look at me," Skyden said sharply. He turned to her. "Look at me. She's not Skyden. I'm Skyden. Look at me. Me!"

"I am looking at you. I see you. But you never saw me. Never. Never." His nostrils flared. "Those boys didn't care about you. Not really." His eyes shifted back and forth behind his lenses. "You were smart. You were so smart and you couldn't see that? How could you be so blind? All they wanted was to get in your pants and–"

"Walter, listen. Focus on me. Let Kelsey go. You want me, not her."

"I don't want you now. It's too late. That won't fix anything. You're old now. Your face is old and your hair is dark. And ugly. You're too old." His shoulders jerked like he was having a seizure. "It has to be then. That's the only way it could work."

He seemed so thoroughly convinced of some warped logic he'd invented that he quoted it like scripture. She could see it in his dull eyes that the whole insane thing made perfect sense to him and the fact she couldn't comprehend it enraged him.

"You're not listening!" He had a look on his pale face like something had come loose, disconnected.

"I am listening," Skyden said. "I am. But you're not making sense."

"You ruined our anniversary." He shook Kelsey, trying to rouse her. "Everything could have been fixed. But you ruined it."

Kelsey moaned and flexed her fingers. He raised his weapon.

Skyden charged. Walter swiped at her with his box cutter, slicing the heel of her hand.

"Ow!" She backed away, pain burning through her hand.

"Shut your mouth! Shut it! Shut it! You're hurting my ears."

She brought the wound to her mouth and tasted the salt with tears filling her eyes. She was a party to Walter's psychotic episode and there seemed no way out.

He pulled a red Scrunchie from his pocket and tossed it onto the bed. "Now make her the way I want her. Make her ready."