Ali Daggett looked calm but a little let down. Luse wasn’t who she wanted to come through the front door. Mo smiled at her. Ali was wearing a sleeveless summer dress and was barefoot, with her hair uncombed. The child mustered a disappointed smile back at her.
For a second Mo lost her character. “Hi, sweetie. You didn’t say nothin’ about the kid. What you gonna do with her while we’re doing our business?”
Luse’s tone definitely wasn’t what Ali wanted to hear. Her “Hi.” was barely audible.
Wheaty pointed at the center kitchenette chair with the automatic. He ignored Ali as Mo sat down. Stepping into the kitchen, he got the chair on that side of the counter and dragged it to the end of the divider. Standing in the middle of the passageway, he had clear, easy shots on anyone coming through either door.
Wheaty licked his lips. “Go play with your doll in your daddy’s bedroom.”
He had not looked at the child even once since Mo had entered the apartment. The little girl didn’t move and didn’t seem to know what to do.
Wheaty growled. “Go on. Close the door.”
Ali picked up her doll and shuffled to the doorway, hesitating before entering, and then pushed the door almost closed. Her sad eyes peered through the crack as Wheaty snapped at her a final time. “Close it!”
Hearing Wheaty’s tone and watching the child’s flinch gave Mo an uneasy feeling. But she couldn’t see Beano; nor could she hear him. The door closed with a tiny click. Right then, for his callousness to the child, Mo decided she was going to hurt Wheaty if she got the chance.
Slowly, tensely, Wheaty crouched down onto the chair. His butt barely settling on the seat gave him the air of a wild dog squatting on his haunches. He set the automatic down on its side by his dirty Van. It wasn’t nearly enough. She needed him farther away from it. He reached toward the top drawer in the counter, and pulling it open, took out a shallow wood cigar box.
Mo put her hands on the countertop, trying to coax Wheaty farther from the automatic. She knew what her special appeal was for him, and she kicked off her Converses, swiveling around in the seat to show him what he wanted. But he picked the gun back up, rose and took two steps to the sink. He seemed to be listening intently as he kept an eye on her. Ten-to-fifteen minutes Mo had told Teddy. Time was moving slowly, and it was much too early for them to have finished re-positioning.