“Teddy!” his mother screamed as the bald man held the squirming child against his thick chest, the blade of his knife pressed against the little boy’s throat.
“Nobody move! Do what I say and the boy won’t get hurt!”
So far Bran hadn’t pulled his weapon. Jessie thought he didn’t want to escalate the situation. Now his hand hovered over the pistol grip.
“The boy is coming with me to the parking lot,” the bald man said. In the lot below, a car engine roared to life. “When I get there, I’ll let him go. Anybody tries to interfere, I slit the kid’s throat.” He looked hard at Bran. “You understand?”
Bran inhaled deeply, then slowly released the breath he’d taken and appeared to relax, but Jessie recognized the tension in the muscles across his shoulders and the back of his neck.
“No one will interfere,” Bran said calmly. “But I’ll be right behind you all the way to the parking lot.”
Teddy was crying, calling for his mother as the big bald man hauled him toward the stairs.
“My baby,” the woman sobbed, holding on to her little girl, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please don’t let him hurt my baby.”
“Stay here,” Bran commanded. “Stay with her, Jessie.”
Jessie managed to nod, the flashlight shaking in her hand. When the bald man was halfway down the stairs, Bran drew his weapon and followed, and Jessie and the mother ran for the railing to see what was happening.
Tires screeched as a white pickup truck skidded to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and the passenger door flew open.
“Toss your weapon!” the bald man shouted at Bran.
Bran leveled the gun at the man’s bald head. “Not gonna happen. Let the boy go and you can leave.”
Silence fell. The truck engine idled.
“Holster your pistol and I’ll let the boy go. Otherwise he comes with me.”
With little choice, Bran holstered his gun. The man tossed the little boy the few feet between them and ran for the truck, and Bran caught the child in his arms. The pickup roared away, leaving the smell of burning rubber in its wake, and Jessie breathed a shaky sigh of relief.
“Thank the good Lord,” the mother whispered, smoothing blond curls back from her daughter’s forehead and wiping tears from her cheeks.
Bran propped the little boy against his shoulder and started back toward the stairs. “Hey, buddy. Everything’s okay.” Teddy burrowed into his neck, his chubby arms tight around him. Watching Bran with the child, Jessie felt a pinch in her heart.
“Your mama’s right up there.” Bran pointed toward the railing. “See her?”
“Mama!” Teddy reached up to her, waving his arms in the air.
“Teddy!”
“Go on,” Jessie said to the mother. “I’ll watch your daughter till you get back.” The woman raced down the stairs, meeting Bran and her son halfway.
“He’s okay,” Bran said. “Just a little shook-up, is all. I’ll carry him the rest of the way up for you.”
They climbed the stairs together, and at the top, Bran handed little Teddy into his mother’s arms. The little girl wrapped her arms around her mother’s legs.
“I’m Kira,” the woman said tearfully. “This is Teddy and my daughter is Mary Ellen. Thank you for what you did. Thank you both so much.”
Bran said nothing. If the men hadn’t come after Jessie, none of it would have happened.
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Kira asked.
“Where’s your husband?” Jessie asked.
“He’s in a meeting. He’s here for a medical conference. We decided to make it a family vacation.”
“We’re checking out,” Bran said. “Those men won’t be back once we’re gone. Be better for us if you didn’t call the cops. They’ll want to talk to us, and we need to get out of here.”
Kira swallowed and held tightly to her children. “You helped us. It’s our turn to help you. Unless something else happens, I won’t call.”
“Thank you,” Jessie said.
“Take care of yourself,” said Bran.
“You, too,” the woman replied.
