Regencyland- The Bristle Park Murders

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Regencyland- The Bristle Park Murders Page 19

by Ellie Thornton


  Bayliss tried to smirk, but the reality of the situation seemed to be hitting him. “She’ll still be dead.”

  “And then you’ll have every cop from here to Winnemucca and all the way to Sacramento after you. You ready for that?” Lee took another step closer.

  “Stay where you are!” He whipped the gun between Shea and Lee.

  She lifted her hands. “Okay. I won’t move.”

  “Daley, where are you?” Bayliss demanded.

  “We’re coming, we’re coming,” Daley said. “Slowly. We don’t want to get shot either.”

  Shea took a deep breath. “Who killed those women? Was it Hamilton? Daley?” Cross’s bodyguard. Someone else all together? At this point, she really had no clue.

  She heard a manly huff behind her.

  “Daley?” Hamilton chuckled. “He’s not a part of this. All he is a nuisance.”

  “You’re only saying that,” Daley said, “because I offered to help Miss Gray report you for breaking into Miss Cross’s room.”

  Bayliss waved the gun. “You just couldn’t stay out of it.”

  The sick feeling that had been stirring in her gut like some poisonous witch’s brew vanished, immediately replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief. Daley was helping. That had to be it. This whole time he’d been trying to help. But the sick feeling rolled back in like the tide when the truth hit her that Gray was trying to help and had been killed for her efforts.

  “Finally,” Daley said, his voice sounding now only a couple of feet behind her, “the truth comes out.”

  “Shut up!” Bayliss barked, aiming his gun behind her. “Give me the girl. Once she hands over the thumb drive, I’ll leave, and you’ll never see me again.”

  While his attention was focused on the man behind her, she inched a little closer, now only four feet away. “Who wants the flash drive?”

  Bayliss faced her. “Like I’d tell you.”

  “We can put you in witness protection, they’ll never find you,” Shea said. “Just tell me who you’re working with.”

  Bayliss shook his head. “No. I have to run. But first…” He moved forward until the gun was merely two feet from her head. “I’m done playing, Daley. The girl, now.”

  “Okay, okay,” Daley said, “here we come.”

  Shea could see them now in her peripheral vision, close together, only a step behind her.

  “Daley, no,” she begged.

  “I have to,” he said.

  Daley’s hand came up, quick as lightening, and threw several small pieces of something silver past Shea and at Bayliss’s face. He pushed Miss Cross down and behind Shea, then lunged.

  The arm that had been concealed behind Cross until now swung wide, showing for the first time the sword he held there. With incredible speed, the blunt-tip blade whipped across Bayliss’s cheek, cutting into the flesh. Daley brought the blade down on Bayliss’s arms, dropping to a knee to give the blow more strength. The gun went off, blowing a hole into the floor. Bayliss lost his grip and sent the gun skidding out of the way. Then Daley came up with his blade catching Bayliss under the chin and cracked his head backward.

  Eyes wide, Bayliss dropped to the floor with a thud, his head bouncing amongst the handful of change that had fallen to the floor at his feet.

  The room went quiet.

  Shea froze.

  Daley faced her and smiled. “I’ve wanted to do that for days now.”

  She twisted her face in confusion.

  Cross whimpered from the floor a few feet away. She turned to go to her but was yanked back. Her dress must be caught on something, she thought, but a man’s shoe, with a foot in it stood on her hem. She followed the leg up, past a torso, chest and to Daley’s face.

  “Get off,” she yanked her dress out from under his shoe and turned back to Cross just in time to see Lee pull her up and into his arms.

  Daley moved next to her. “Isn’t that sweet?” he said in a self-satisfied tone.

  It kind of was, but she wasn’t going to agree with the troublemaker.

  “Lee, you should get her out of here. She needs some fresh air,” Daley said.

  Lee nodded, rubbing Cross’s back, then turned to Shea. “You got him?” His gaze dropped to Bayliss and came back.

  “Yeah, just take her.” She turned to the rest the crowd. “Everyone, out. This room is now officially a crime scene.”

  Mrs. Rafferty came up. “Is there anything we can do?”

  She stared down at Bayliss. “I could use something to tie him up and a working phone,” then, because she was still in Regencyland, she added, “please.”

  Mr. Rafferty nodded. “We have a cell in our room.”

  “Great,” Shea said, ignoring Daley’s unnerving proximity. As the room emptied, she faced him. She had questions. “Miss Gray was helping?”

  He shrugged and nodded at the same time. “After a fashion. She was blackmailing them.”

  “For what?” Shea asked.

  “I missed her demands.”

  It didn’t matter now anyway. But her next question did. “You knew I was a cop?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He rolled back on his heels.

  “How?” If she could be outed so easily while undercover, what did that say about her?

  “I suspected pretty quickly, but it wasn’t until I popped that plastic bag that I knew for sure,” he said.

  She twisted her face in confusion.

  He chuckled. “You reached for your gun hip.”

  Ah. Yeah, she had done that. Shoot. He was clever. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “That is an excellent question,” he said, and Bayliss moaned. “But perhaps we could discuss it later when we’re not in a room with two dead bodies?”

  “Right.” She dropped to her knee and grabbed the back of Bayliss’s head. “Hey, wake up.”

  He groaned.

  “Wake up, Bayliss…”

  “Curtis,” Daley said. “His name’s Curtis.”

  She stared up at Daley. “Curtis? For real?”

  He rolled back on his heels and nodded.

  Shaking her head, she turned back to Bayliss and patted his cheeks. “Yo, Curtis, it’s time to wake up now.”

  His eyes blinked open. “Mom?”

  Agh. “No, you idiot. It’s Shea. I need you to focus for me.”

  His eyes were glassy and red, and she worried he might have a concussion, but he nodded.

  “Who’s he? Who were you talking about?”

  He swallowed. “Hamilton.”

  “Hamilton?” She yanked him up so fast, she thought he might barf. “You’re sure?”

  He nodded again.

  She stood, and Curtis fell back to the floor. “He could be anywhere.”

  Daley’s eyes went wide. “As long as you’re safe.”

  She ignored the nervous flutter in her gut and picked up Bayliss’s gun off the floor. She was almost out the door when Daley grabbed her arm.

  “You no longer think I’m the bad guy, right?” he asked.

  She fought back a smile and shook her head. Asher was the first person she saw; his gaze was trained down the hall. “Asher, as soon as Mr. Rafferty gets back with the rope—”

  “Ah, Miss Shea, how good of you to join us.”

  “Shea!” Cross yelled.

  She spun, lifting her gun and pointing it down the hall. Hamilton was backing toward the door with an arm around Cross’s waist and a gun to her head. He had Mrs. Rafferty and Miss Smith with him too, using them as shields. Lee lay prone on the floor, face down. A smattering of blood ran down his neck.

  Shea’s adrenaline spiked, fear for his life fogging up her brain. “Lee? Lee! Answer me.”

  Daley brushed past her and dropped by her partner and checked his pulse. “He’s alive.”

  “There’s no escape, Hamilton. The river overflowed last night. The bridge is blocked.” She moved toward him, gun held high.

  He laughed. “Are you got to shoot through the ladies to get to me?
Smith, be a dear and get the door.”

  Smith’s already pale complexion was now sallow, but she did as she was told. He stepped further behind Mrs. Rafferty, who was ringing her hands together.

  From the top of the stairs, an indignant voice called. “What’s going on here?”

  Hamilton turned and fired.

  Mr. Rafferty dropped and slid down several steps.

  Mrs. Rafferty screamed.

  Daley jumped to his feet, eyes fixed in the direction of the stairs. “Will!”

  “If you follow us, Miss Smith dies next,” Hamilton said, shoving Mrs. Rafferty forward.

  The moment he was out the door with the two younger women, Daley was up the stairs.

  Mrs. Rafferty lifted her skirts and ran. “William, William!”

  “I’m all right,” Mr. Rafferty’s faint voice called down to his wife. “Just a flesh wound. I’ve had much worse.”

  Shea dropped to Lee and looked at his wound. It wasn’t as bad as she feared.

  “He came out of nowhere,” Asher knelt beside her, “hit Lee over the back of the head with his gun and grabbed Cross. It happened so fast; there was nothing we could do.”

  Shea dropped her gun, reached over to Asher’s arm and ripped his sleeve off. “It’s not your fault.” She wadded up the material and placed it on Lee’s wound. “Hold this.”

  He did as she said and mumbled, “He has Miss Smith.”

  She grabbed her gun and jumped to her feet. “Bayliss needs to be restrained. He’s weaponless now, and I think he has a concussion. Where would Hamilton take them?”

  Asher stared up at her. “He won’t hike out, especially not with the women and no supplies. There are miles of backcountry. He’s got to be at the church. When I found Bayliss this morning, he was scrubbing the tile at the back.” His blueberry colored eyes went round. “You don’t think that’s where he kept Mary?”

  She cocked her gun. “Call the police. Tell them they’ll need trucks to get over the river.”

  As she ran past the stairs, Daley’s voice called out. “Elizabeth, wait!”

  She didn’t.

  Chapter Thirty

  The door to the chapel hung slightly ajar, Hamilton voice echoed lightly through the room. Stepping up close, she peered in quick and pulled back. The building was round with an altar at the front of ten or so rows of pews, with a row down the center. There were also ten pillars that circled round the chapel, five on each side. Miss Smith stood to the left of the aisle and Cross, and Hamilton were on the other side of it.

  Taking a deep breath in, Shea slid through the space in the door and immediately dropped to a crawl.

  “What am I going to do with you?” Hamilton’s steps echoed loudly through the room. “What am I going to do? What am I going to do? This wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “What’s that red stuff on the floor?” Smith’s voice was barely a whisper, but Shea heard her loud and clear.

  Shea slid crawled to the back row of pews and peered toward the altar. Smith’s eyes were glued to the floor, but Shea couldn’t see what she was looking at; though she was sure she could guess.

  “Blood.” His tone was cool and calculating. Shea recognized the tone. It was the tone of someone with no remorse. That wasn’t a good sign.

  “Who’s blood?” Smith asked.

  Hamilton marched up to Cross. “Either give me the thumb drive, or I’ll search you.” He shoved the gun down the front of his pants. Idiot. She hoped the gun misfired and shot his pecker off.

  “I don’t have it on me.” Cross lifted her chin.

  “Don’t lie. I know you’ve kept it on you since Mary broke into your room. She saw you hide it down the neckline of your dress,” he said.

  “Leave her alone,” Smith said.

  “Where is it?” Hamilton’s voice dropped to a deep, cold warning.

  “I hid it in Miss Shea’s room.”

  He laughed. “I went through her room yesterday. It’s not in there.”

  She thought for sure it’d been Daley who’d broken in. Lee said he’d gone to take a nap at the time, but now that she thought about it, Lee had never mentioned that Hamilton had been in the sitting room with them. Just the ladies and Mr. Asher. How could she have been so blind? She went to the end of the pews, near a pillar and peered around it.

  “No,” Cross shook her head. “You couldn’t have known—”

  “I didn’t. Your bodyguard, Jason Stilts, is working with me. With him and Bayliss, we were more than thorough.” He grabbed her arm. “Hand it over.”

  “You’re hurting me!” Cross screamed—her voice reverberated across the top of the dome and slammed down on Shea forcing her to cover her ears.

  Shea face-palmed, remembering what Hamilton had said about this being a whisper dome. She crawled down the aisle as Cross fought against Hamilton’s hold, and when in the perfect spot, she lifted her head to the ceiling and spoke. “You won’t get away with this, Hamilton.”

  He shoved Cross down onto the front pew and turned toward the opposite side of the dome from where Shea was hunkered, yanking his gun out of his pants as he did. He jerked the barrel around a few times, trying to locate her.

  “Miss Shea?” He laughed, and circled back to where he heard her voice across from where she really was. “How nice of you to join us. I was wondering what was taking you so long.”

  She moved from her spot once more, circling around to the back of the pews, and spoke once more. “You’ll never get out of here.”

  Her voice echoed from the front of the dome, and he spun on his heel. She tried to take aim through the pews, but didn’t have a good shot. Since he didn’t know where she was, Shea worried he might accidently shoot Cross or Smith to get her. With Smith to one side of the aisle and Cross to the other, she’d have to get a better shot, she’d have to get to the center and him there too.

  Smith stepped toward him. “That’s why you told me to take a practice shot toward the woods. You knew they were there all along.”

  “Of course I did. That flash drive is worth millions to me. Miss Cross is not.” He spoke up again. “You were a distraction, Miss Shea, I hadn’t anticipated. I was disappointed when I found out you were a cop.”

  I bet you were.

  “I didn’t mean for anyone to die. I have gambling debts you see, and they were all called in.” His footsteps tapped lightly on the floor as he rounded to the front row of pews again. “It was her or me.”

  Shea slid slowly, quietly around the back pews and toward the aisle, then pulled back when she spotted Daley standing behind a pillar. They locked gazes. She motioned for him to leave with her hand. He shook his head. She pointed to the door, then mouthed, “leave.” He shook his head again.

  Agh! She motioned for him to stay right where he was.

  He nodded.

  For the love of everything holy.

  Hamilton stopped at the front of the chapel, his gun up as he scanned the room. Cross rushed him, but he saw her coming backhanded her with the gun, sending her to the floor. Smith ran at him too, but he caught her hand and swung her around until her back was to his chest.

  “You, I don’t need.” He put the barrel against her temple and Shea jumped up, pointing her gun at him.

  “Aw, there you are.” Hamilton pressed the gun harder against the side of Smith’s head. “I figured this would get you to come out.”

  Smith winced.

  “Let her go,” Shea ordered.

  “And give you a clear shot? I don’t think so. Just because I didn’t kill Gray and Mary, doesn’t mean that I won’t kill now.” He lifted the hammer and then jerked backward. Smith screamed and fell forward. Hamilton’s gun hand pin-willed upward, and he pulled the trigger sending a shot in Shea’s direction.

  Right in her direction.

  Shea’s life didn’t flash before her eyes, like she’d expected—like she’d heard tell from other cops who’d been shot. Instead she saw the blink of the red light on Brown’s phone again.
>
  Blink. Blink. Blink.

  Red. Red. Red.

  She sucked in a breath, felt hands wrap around her waist, then was slammed down on the granite, with Daley on top of her. Her head banged against his arm, and she nearly lost grip on her gun.

  Hamilton kicked Cross off his leg where she was trying to pull him off balance. He regained his footing and aimed at Shea.

  “Roll,” she ordered, and she and Daley flipped.

  Once on top, her gun hand toward Hamilton, she took the shot. He flew back into the altar, knocking the wood crucifix that sat in the middle over with a heavy thud. A red mark saturated the front of Hamilton’s shirt, his eyes went wide, and red spittle came out the corner of his mouth. He blinked. His gaze went to Shea and he lifted his gun again.

  “Drop it!” Her voice bounced around the dome.

  Hamilton aimed and Shea fired again. His knees buckled and he dropped like a puppet on a string. Smith shot up from her prone position on a front pew and seized the gun from his hand.

  Shea sucked in a breath.

  “Is it over?” Daley asked.

  Having forgotten he was there, under her, she glanced down. He was frowning; his blue-green eyes were dull, every feature of his face seemed to pull down.

  “We still have the bodyguard to deal with, but with the river flooded, yeah, I think for now it’s done,” she said.

  He reached up and cupped her face. “You scared the life out of me.”

  She chuckled, then sucked in a ragged breath and dropped her forehead to his chest.

  “You know, this is the second time I’ve held you in my arms,” he said. “One more time and I’ll have to call it official.”

  She shook her head against the smooth fabric of his shirt, and a soft rumbling made his chest bounce.

  “Shea!” a familiar voice called from the door.

  Rolling off Daley, she jumped to her feet. “Boss? What are you doing here?”

  Behind Brown a full swat team followed. They rushed in surrounding the room.

  Brown’s gaze went from her to Daley to Hamilton and back again. He clenched his jaw and shouted orders as the SWAT team secured the room, then he turned to Shea. “So much for arriving in the nick of time.”

 

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