However, she did see the family car, parked in front of the church.
Mary's car sat on the opposite side of the street.
Her spirits fell as she thought about the man she'd been married to since high school.
Did he even go to the garage at all?
Keeping low, she crossed the grassy field in back of the church.
The grass needed a mowing, and brushed against her bare leg.
Her destination was the door in back.
She'd only been inside the church a few times, but knew the back door led to an office, which then joined the main church hall.
Janet felt silly as she pressed her back against the brick wall, next to the door.
She wasn't exactly sure why she was employing stealth.
Secrets or not, her husband wasn't dangerous.
Certainly the few people she saw trickle inside the church weren't dangerous.
The door to the office was locked.
There was a window around the corner, providing a good view of the Smitt's family's bedroom next door.
Keeping in her crouch, Janet moved past the door along the wall.
She reached up for the window.
Her hand barely touched the glass when someone grabbed her from behind.
She never saw it coming.
A hand clamped down across her mouth and an arm around her waist.
"Shhhh," a familiar voice said.
"You don't want them to know you're here."
Janet's eyes shot open in panic as she was lifted to her feet.
She was forced against the wall, her face pressed against the brick.
Her left arm was pinned, so she reached back with her right hand and grabbed anything she could.
Her fingers felt something warm, and she gripped as hard as she could.
There was no shouting in pain as she squeezed the testicles for all she was worth.
There wasn't even a moan of discomfort.
There was simply breathing in her ear, followed by that voice.
"Squeezing my dick isn't going to help you, Janet.
Well, it helps
me
.
But it won't help you.
If you want to give me a nice, relaxing erection right out here in the open, knock yourself out."
All she could think to do was squeeze harder.
She wiggled her mouth in an attempt to bite him, and succeeded.
Her teeth found the flesh under his thumb, and she bit down hard.
Again, there was no cry of pain.
"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead," he said.
"I'm going to take my hand away.
We'll have us a nice talk.
Understand?"
Janet nodded, slowly releasing her grip on his testicles and hand.
He let go, and she dropped to the grass, staying under the window.
Her sanity felt like it was slipping away as she turned and looked up at her attacker.
It was as if she were in a nightmare she couldn't awake from.
Byron stood before her.
He straightened his clothes and adjusted his underwear beneath his slacks.
His clothes were wrinkled with a spot of blood here and there.
Besides that, there was no evidence of the brutal beating Janet gave him in her kitchen with the blender and meat tenderizer.
His face, his skull, were fine.
He still wore that annoying smirk, with his smug look of condescension.
"I killed you," Janet said, repeating herself three times.
"I know I did.
I killed you.
This can't be real."
"Oh, Janet," he said, as if talking to a child.
"I'm afraid you didn't.
You tried.
You failed.
But don't be too hard on yourself.
It wasn't for a lack of effort on your part.
I have to say, wow—"
He shook his head.
"If I was really trying to kill you, you might have actually slowed me down a bit."
"You…weren't trying to kill me?"
"Of course not.
I'm actually impressed with myself.
I showed
much
restraint, and it's very hard to fake pain and death.
If I killed you, then you couldn't have led me here."
He took in the church and the neighborhood.
He glanced inside through the office window.
Wild shadows danced on the walls as the darkness outside took hold.
Whoever was inside was lighting the way with candles.
"So, this is where your husband has been hiding."
Janet sobbed.
She had no answers, and the questions were killing her.
"Would you please…tell me what's going on?"
"Are you sure your delicate mortal brain can handle it?"
"What do you mean by mortal—?"
She shook the question from her mind.
It wasn't important.
"Yes.
I can handle it."
Byron peered inside the office.
The door leading to the church hall was open.
He shifted to his right to get a better angle.
"There.
You can barely see it.
Take a look."
Janet stood up and followed Byron's gaze.
People were moving about the church.
They sat in pews, laughed as they talked, like all was right in the world.
Everyone she saw, she recognized.
It was a small town.
Derek from the steel mill.
Jill from the post office.
Catherine from the pharmacy.
Even Frank, the town's sheriff, was inside.
Frank ran a finger alongside an object near the front.
The angle Janet had made it difficult to determine what it was, but it seemed to be a cup, perhaps a bowl.
"What is that?"
"That would be mine.
I paid nearly two million dollars for it.
I don't appreciate your husband stealing it from me.
He lifted it from a van when I was relocating one of my warehouses.
I'm just here to collect my property."
Janet clenched her eyes shut in frustration.
"I don't understand.
Everything that happened today.
You assaulting my family, invading my home.
That was all some kind of plan?
Over that cup in there?"
"It was a plan that got blown all to Hell.
I've been watching you and your family for a while, Janet.
I know, just like you do, he never works Saturdays.
I knew he was planning something.
I was completely willing to sit in your living room and eat all your food until he got home from his mystery party here.
But you kept throwing curveball after curveball.
I had to improvise.
And-"
He gestured around him.
"Here we are."
A figure passed by the office door.
Janet dropped down, out of sight, pulling Byron down with her.
He roughly shook his arm from her grasp and wagged his finger, although he did remain in a kneeling position.
"No touching, Janet."
She didn't hear him.
Fighting with everything she had, she struggled to keep the tears in.
The figure that passed the office door was her husband.
She was hiding from her husband.
"Where are my kids?" she asked, her voice breaking.
"Where are they?"
"Don't know."
He shrugged.
"Don't care.
That's your problem, not mine.
Maybe you should keep a better eye on them, like a good mommy."
Janet's face flushed with rage.
"You were trying to kill us, you son of a bitch—!"
Byron lunged forward and covered her mouth.
He held a finger to his lips before gesturing with a look to the window above them.
Leaning against the wall, he pulled her alongside him.
There were voices inside the office.
They were muffled due to the closed window, but she could barely make out the conversation.
Her heart ached when she recognized Ed's voice.
"Okay, Mary, tell me what happened.
What's going on?"
Mary spoke fast, her voice strained and agitated.
"I don't know.
I asked Janet to watch Mark, and she said yes.
Five minutes later all three kids burst into my house, talking about how someone was trying to kill them.
I didn't know what to do, and I was already late coming here.
So I brought them."
"Sarah.
Elizabeth," Janet whispered.
"My children are here.
They've got my children."
Byron pushed her shoulder.
"Would you shut the fuck up?" he hissed.
"You brought them here," Ed repeated.
"Of all nights, you brought them
here
."
"I'm sorry.
I screwed up."
"Yeah, you did, but I don't blame you.
I talked to Janet, from your house.
I guess you don't lock your door."
"I was…in a hurry."
"So you said."
Silence.
Janet desperately wanted to know what was happening in the office.
Was Ed pacing, like he did when he was anxious?
Was he leaning against the wall?
He did that when he was nervous at parties.
"Okay, so my wife is fine.
She knows I'm not at the garage, and you basically kidnapped my kids."
"We have to postpone.
Just make it another night."
"No.
Everyone is here, and they're waiting.
We just have to get through this night, and everything will be different.
Janet thinks I'm heading home now.
Just keep an eye on the kids.
Lock them up in here.
Handcuff them, if you have to.
I'll fix everything later."
More silence.
Janet risked a peek through the window to see the office was empty.
Mary and Ed were talking to the sheriff, and taking several pair of handcuffs from him.
Byron stood upright.
"Look at it this way.
Your kiddies should be used to being tied up now."
She flashed him a glare, amazed at his gall.
He turned and walked along the outside of the church, heading to the front.
Janet was a step behind.
"What's so special about that cup?"
"It used to belong to a witch, and it's been used in
many
rituals and spells.
You wouldn't believe some of the sloppy shit they make.
Anyway, some people think the cup might have absorbed some of a witch's magic.
I hoped it could help me with a problem I have.
But—"
His tone turned angry.
"It didn't, and I wasted a lot of money.
I'd say all your friends in there are devil worshipers or something."
He shook his head.
"It's amazing the stupid shit you people believe in."
He was nearly to the front of the church, in plain view of anyone walking on the sidewalk.
Janet grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back into the shadows.
He spun to face her, a dark look in his eye.
"You've touched me three times today, Janet.
If I didn't know better, I'd say you had little girlie feelings for me."
She ignored him.
"Witches.
Magic.
Devil worship.
I don't believe in any of that."
"Good for you."
He nodded toward the church.
"They do."
"I don't think Ed will hurt them, but…I don't know anymore.
Help me save my children."
Byron laughed as if he'd just heard the funniest joke ever told.
"No."
He turned to walk away.
Janet nearly grabbed his shoulder, but didn't want to push her luck.
She trotted behind him to keep up.
They were in the open, and anyone entering or leaving the church would see them.
Byron didn't seem to care.
"What are you going to do?"
"I told you.
I'm getting my property."
"Byron, I don't think they'll just let you walk in there, not if they're devil worshipers, or whatever.
And the sheriff has a gun.
You're going to…
kill
them?"
"I'll leave that up to them."
"They'll kill you," she said.
It was difficult to accept that she was suddenly concerned about Byron's welfare.
But he was her best hope to get her children away from whatever was happening inside the church.
"There are too many of them."
He paused and stroked his chin in thought.
"Maybe you're right."