Brad lunged, shoving aside the mesh curtain, and wrapped the cord around Olson’s neck.
I leaned over Jenkins and fought for the wheel. His elbow caught me in the nose, bringing tears to my eyes. The van swerved across the freeway and across oncoming traffic.
A tree loomed in front of us. Slamming Jenkins against the door, I jerked the wheel away from the tree, taking the van through a stand of saplings instead. When the van stopped, I bumped Jenkins hard enough to bang his head against the window then rushed for the door.
I jumped out, Brad right behind me, and made a mad dash for a nearby cliff. I’d take my chances with the sea given my other option. I glanced over the edge, glad not to see any jagged rocks or a beach directly below.
Brad grabbed my hand, and we jumped as a shot rang out.
The icy waters of the Atlantic closed over my head. I lost Brad’s hand as I struggled to break the water’s surface. Summer or not, the water was cold. Once I emerged, I took a gulp of air and glanced around me. Waves moved me to and fro but steadily closer to a large group of rocks.
Fighting the current, I eventually made my way to shallower water and lay on the beach gasping for air like a stranded fish. I turned my head as Brad crawled to my side.
“Come on. We aren’t out of trouble yet.” He pointed to where a gun-wielding Jenkins was making his way down to the beach.
“Did you kill Olson?” I got to my feet.
“No. The second he passed out, I followed you. Bad guy or not, I don’t want to be the one who kills him.” He grabbed my hand again, and we sprinted away from Jenkins.
With our phones wet from seawater, we couldn’t call for help. “Make for the lighthouse,” Brad said. “Locking ourselves inside is our only chance of surviving this day.”
Fear propelled me faster. My body could complain later. My lungs burned from the exertion. My feet kicked up sand, and still we ran.
When a shot rang out, Brad swerved closer to the cliff rising above us. “Stay as much in the shadows as you can.”
I wouldn’t argue with that reasoning, but we’d have to stop sooner or later. I didn’t have much more to go on. Please, God, give our feet wings.
Seagrass made our running more difficult the farther we got from the beach and the closer we got to the abandoned lighthouse. I tripped and fell. “I’ve got nothing left, Brad.”
“If you don’t get up, you’ll die.” He yanked me to my feet and spurred me on.
The lighthouse didn’t have a door. Tears sprang to my eyes. Whether from exhaustion, fear, or disappointment, I couldn’t tell.
“Up the stairs.” Brad gave me a shove.
“We can’t lock him out.”
“There’ll be another door at the top.” He reached down and grabbed a stick of driftwood. “Find a weapon.”
I found a long piece of wood about the circumference of my wrist, took a deep breath, and forced myself to climb. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, ignoring the weakness in my legs. Stopping wasn’t an option. Giving up meant not only my death, but Brad’s. I focused on the benefits of living, like more dates and kisses with him. A new career. That beautiful house I would find a way to own.
Thank you, God. A solid door waited at the top of the stairs, and it wasn’t locked.
We rushed inside and slammed it behind us. The lock had rusted away.
I glanced around the tower for something to place against the door but found only a shattered chair of no use to us. I removed my shoes and jammed them under the door. Not a surefire method, but it would slow Jenkins down.
Brad smiled and arched a brow.
“Television,” I said. I folded to the dust-covered floor. Regardless of the dirt, I lay flat on my back and stared at the glass above me. Some panes were missing, but all in all, the lighthouse was still a thing of beauty.
The sound of feet climbing the iron staircase jerked me back to a sitting position.
“Can he shoot us through the door?”
“Not easily. It’s pretty thick,” Brad said, raising his wooden cudgel. “If he opens the door, I’ll break his hand before he can shoot.”
“Aim for the head.” I was over his bosses.
Grabbing my piece of wood from where I’d dropped it when I’d fallen to the floor, I took up a position next to Brad. Fight together or die together.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Jenkins said from the other side. “I can make this fast.”
“You’re delusional,” I said. “Why not come and get us?”
“You have nowhere to go. You got out of the house, but if I set fire here, you won’t be as lucky.”
“Stone and iron won’t burn fast.”
“Then you’ll die of smoke inhalation!”
I could tell I was really getting under the man’s skin. I met Brad’s amused gaze and shrugged. “Frustrated people make mistakes.”
“TV again?”
“Yep.”
The door inched open.
Brad slammed his body against it.
Jenkins cursed. “When Olson catches up, you don’t stand a chance.”
I glanced out the window. Olson had just started making his way to the beach. We had a while. “Why don’t you go get him? He doesn’t seem to be doing very well. I think his throat is bruised.”
“Why don’t you just leave town?” Brad suggested. “The police know you’re guilty. It’s only a matter of time before they find us.”
“Because I don’t leave loose ends behind. The two of you ruined my plans. Do you know what loan sharks do to people who can’t pay?”
“They’ll still be after you, even if you kill us,” I said.
“But I’ll feel better.” He rammed the door again.
His gun hand slipped through.
Brad brought the wood down on his wrist.
The man cursed and withdrew. “You broke my arm!”
“I told him to aim for your head,” I said. “I’m getting hungry and thirsty. I’m not a nice person when I’m either of those. Add in lack of sleep, and I could probably take you down myself.” This entire situation was getting old.
“Open the door, Brad,” I said softly. “I’ll stand where he can barely see me. You stand behind the door and bash him when he comes in.”
“Too risky. He can get a shot off at you.”
“Not with a broken wrist.”
“We’ll keep stalling until Davis finds us. Someone will have seen the van and called it in.”
Ever the voice of reason, Brad Overson. I sighed and leaned against the window, knowing we were too high for anyone to shoot us from the ground.
“How did you do on your test?” I asked.
“Good. A few points lower than you.” Brad chuckled. “I guess I should watch more true-crime shows like you do.”
“It’s going to get dark. We could be stuck up here for a long time. I don’t like the dark, Brad.”
“That surprises me. You don’t seem frightened of much.”
“When I was a kid, we lived in the country. The nights were really dark, and we lost electricity frequently. Once it happened when I was home alone. The coyotes howling sounded like they were right outside the door. When my parents finally got home, I was a basket case. I haven’t been a fan since.”
“I’m here, Ashley. You won’t be alone, and the only coyotes you have to worry about are the two-legged ones outside. We can handle them.”
I really hoped so.
CHAPTER 14
“Davis is coming, and he’s brought another officer.” I jumped to my feet and started waving my arms. Look up!
“There’s nowhere else for us to hide,” Brad said. “He’ll come here.”
“He needs to know that Jenkins and Olson will be waiting to ambush him.” I looked around for something to throw.
I grabbed a leg from the broken chair and tossed it through one of windows that was missing a pane. It landed in the bushes next to the path.
Davis glanced up.
<
br /> I pointed then waved my arms in a “don’t go there” gesture, hoping he’d get the message that the two men waited for him.
Davis ran at a crouch toward the lighthouse, the other officer following suit. Within seconds, they’d dashed out of sight. All we could do now was wait.
I moved over and put a hand on Brad’s arm. “Will you go out with me?” My voice shook.
A slow smile spread across his face. “A date? We had one. An exciting one at that.”
“I want one where people aren’t trying to kill us.”
He leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. “I’m looking forward to it. How about a nice restaurant and a moonlight walk on the beach?”
“Sounds like a dream.” My smile faded as I heard Olson yell something at Jenkins.
They pushed against the door.
Brad and I pushed back. If they got in before Davis made his way to us, we’d be dead.
“Get whatever pieces of that chair we can jam under the door,” Brad said.
“They’re all too big. Besides, you can’t hold them off by yourself.” I leaned my back against the door and braced my feet in front of me.
Shouts echoed from the other side of the door.
Shots rang out.
The gunfight had started. I prayed the good guys would win and that one of the bullets wouldn’t pierce the door.
Night had fully fallen, casting us in semi-darkness, broken only by the moon and stars. Ocean waves pounded the rocks below us. What could have been a beautiful place felt more like a prison as my stomach complained and my mouth filled with cotton. I closed my eyes and kept holding the door with what little strength I had left.
God hadn’t forsaken us. He’d given us this tower to live or to die according to His will. I really hoped it was to live.
Something hit the other side of the door with a thud. Someone cried out. The shots ceased.
“Is it over?” I glanced up at Brad.
“I think so. Now we need to know who won.”
“Open up. It’s Davis. It’s safe to come out.”
“Thank you, God.” I stepped back and let Brad open the door.
I impulsively threw my arms around Davis. “You’re an angel in blue.”
“Uh, okay.” He unwound my arms and handed me to Brad. “Olson is dead, Jenkins wounded. They won’t be bothering you again.”
I nodded as tears filled my eyes.
Brad took me in his arms. “We’re going to be fine. Let’s go home.”
Three months later, I stood on a stage in my graduation gown and received a diploma. I was to start my new job as a forensic scientist, along with Brad, on Monday. This afternoon I’d sign papers to purchase Roy’s house. God had blessed me in immeasurable ways.
Impressed with our report and help in solving Roy’s murder, the chief had said he couldn’t imagine hiring anyone but the two of us to help fight crime in Sea Side. I’d miss my job at Tea by the Sea, but the future filled me with hope.
Diploma in hand, I joined my fellow graduates and gazed into Brad’s face. “Ready for dinner?”
“Our real date, at last. No classes, no homework to get in the way. Now that school is over, I plan on spoiling you on a regular basis.” He crooked his arm.
Brad took me to an upscale Italian restaurant with white starched tablecloths, staff wearing ties, and low lighting for ambiance. I’d never been to such a romantic place or had a handsomer date.
“Did you ever think we’d be here, diplomas in hand, having brought down three murderers?” I peered at him over my leather-bound menu.
“Of course. I knew you’d be my girl the first day you arrived late for class, your head in the clouds.” He reached across the table and placed his hand over mine. “I was a little nervous about going to school at my age, but I thank God every day that I didn’t give in to that fear. What I didn’t count on was my life in danger. But it’s all good now.”
My face warmed at the look in his eyes. “The chief promised we could stay safely in the lab from now on.”
He winked. “Boring but safe.”
“Boring?” I arched a brow. “I’d rather study blood spatter patterns than be shot at. I like puzzles. This job will be one puzzle after another. I don’t see anything boring about that. Plus, we get to work together every day. Maybe that’s what you think will be boring.”
“Sweetheart, time with you will never be boring.” He laughed and returned to his menu. “With work and helping you repair the damaged front of your house, I won’t have time to be bored.”
I’d do everything in my power to make sure that was true. I smiled at him and ordered lasagna, looking forward to my promising—and hopefully not boring—future.
Cynthia Hickey grew up in a family of storytellers and moved around the country a lot as an army brat. Her desire is to write about real but flawed characters in a wholesome way that her seven children and nine grandchildren can all be proud of. She and her husband live in Arizona where Cynthia is a full-time writer.
CRUMPETS TO DIE FOR
LINDA BATEN JOHNSON
CHAPTER 1
I didn’t expect Grandpa John to pick me up and twirl me around like he did when I was a girl. After all, I’m a professional woman, a CPA, and I now stand five feet seven and weigh—more than I should. I did expect a huge smile and bear hug, because he’d invited me to Sea Side, Maine, from my home in Dallas, Texas. Grandpa asked me, not my parents, aunt, uncle, or cousins, to help him transition from his rambling two-story Victorian home to a retirement apartment. But instead of greeting me, he huddled in the back of the group.
“Grandpa, is this a welcoming committee?” I motioned to the two African American women, a dapper gentleman, and a woman clad in black who brandished a sign with my name, LADESSA NOLAN, printed on it.
The middle-aged lady with blunt-cut blond bangs and straight shoulder-length hair inserted herself between me and my grandfather. “We’re from the Happy Days Retirement Village. I’m Betty Boyd, the activities director. When John wanted to meet your flight, I asked if anyone else wanted to go for an outing, and here we are. What color is your luggage?”
“Burgundy, with green ribbons.”
Betty nodded to the other man in my welcoming entourage. “Trent Sharp will get your bags.”
I wriggled past the black-clad woman and grasped Grandpa John in a fierce embrace. He was a head taller than I, still bald, with the same round face, chocolate-brown eyes, and a small scar on his right cheek, but he appeared deflated, diminished.
He placed his lips by my ear. “Ladessa, I need help. Don’t leave before we talk.”
“I won’t. May I sleep in the front bedroom?”
Grandpa led me toward the double doors. “I don’t live at home. I’m in a Happy Days apartment.”
“Well, why? Uh, when?” I stuttered, wondering why he asked me here if he’d already moved.
“Sold the house. You’ll live in the apartment over the garage. House is rented until year’s end to Logan Hernandez, a newspaper reporter. Have you heard of him?”
I shook my head. “You sold the house?”
“I did.”
“What about your things? Your furniture?”
“In the garage. That’s mine until the end of the year.”
“Your things are in the garage?” These announcements perplexed me.
“Had space because I sold the car.”
“You sold the car?” I sounded like an echo, repeating each of Grandpa’s surprising statements. “I guess I’ll rent a car.”
“No need. Saved you a bike. You love riding bikes.”
The incongruous idea mystified me. Grandpa wanted me to ride a bike? In Maine? In October? I struggled to comprehend these revelations.
Trent Sharp, a well-groomed man who resembled movie star Pierce Brosnan—the older version with the silvery hair and nice tan—returned with my bags. Betty resumed her role as Mother Hen.
“Thank you, Trent.” I detected frostiness in her tone wh
en she acknowledged Sharp. She patted her oversized tote. “Does anyone need anything before we go? Tissue? Band-Aid? Lozenge? Hand sanitizer? If not, load up.”
Grandpa John and I waited as Mr. Sharp used his nasal spray for two loud snorts before heaving my bags into the van.
Mr. Sharp moved beside me and placed his hand on the small of my back. “Lots of luggage. Didn’t realize you were moving here, my love. Thought this was a visit.”
I flinched at his familiar touch. “Fall weather in New England zigzags from warm to freezing cold, so I prepared.”
He flashed me a white, toothy smile and moved closer. “Ladessa, we have shops in Sea Side, or I could take you on a shopping spree. Shall we set a time?”
Before I responded, Betty shoved Sharp toward the passenger seat. “Keep me company up front and stop annoying the young woman.”
Grateful for Betty’s intervention, I slid into the back with Grandpa and the two other women. “Betty didn’t introduce us. I’m Ladessa Nolan.”
“My daughter and I both know you. You attended our church when you stayed with your grandparents. I’m Mary Rollins.”
“Mrs. Rollins, of course.” I squeezed her hand. “We called you Mary Christmas, because you told us you were born on Christmas Day.”
“That’s me. Mary Christmas is an easy name for children to remember. Please, Ladessa, call me Mary. My husband served the congregation as associate minister for eighteen years. He’s gone to his heavenly reward. Our daughter was supposed to be a December baby. Noelle means Christmas gift, but this contrary girl stayed put until January.”
“Noelle?” I peered at the elegant woman who offered a conspiratorial wink.
I remembered Noelle, my partner in crime when we skipped church and used our offering to buy doughnuts at the corner store. Noelle hadn’t eaten many sweets lately. Her svelte form reminded me of a runway model or a yoga instructor. I bet she could manage tree pose and sun salutations, and place her palms on the floor without bending her knees. I sat straighter, hoping to look a few pounds thinner.
The Tea Shoppe Mysteries Page 27
