by Ann McMan
“Make yourself at home,” Lizzy called out as she dropped her keys and her flute case onto a low table, then walked toward the back of the house.
Syd could hear her opening and closing doors in the kitchen and putting a pot on the stove. She took an appreciative look around the small living room. It was charming—mullioned windows flanked a fireplace with a stone hearth. An antique-looking woodstove jutted out from its opening. Heart pine floors and white, built-in cabinets ran along the back wall, forming her dining area.
“I love this place, Lizzy,” Syd called out. “It’s really charming.”
“Thanks.” Lizzy briefly appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. “See why I jumped at the chance to have it?” She held up an unopened bottle of wine. “Want something to drink while we wait on the soup to heat up?”
Syd smiled and nodded. “Thanks. That would be great.”
Lizzy disappeared again. “I’ll be right out. Have a seat.”
Syd took advantage of the few moments of privacy to send Maddie a quick text message. She dug her cell phone out of her purse, sat down on Lizzy’s small sofa, and typed quickly.
Still awake? Grabbing a bite 2 eat @ Lizzy’s. Won’t b long. Ditch clothes. Love u.
She hit send just as she heard Lizzy coming back into the room. She quickly set her phone aside and turned to her.
“Here you go.” Lizzy held out a glass of white wine. Syd took it gratefully. It had been a long day.
“Thanks.” Syd took a sip. The wine was cold and crisp. “This is just what I needed.” She inclined her head toward the rest of the small house. “Can I be bold enough to ask for a look around? I really love what you’re doing to this place.”
Lizzy’s smile was genuine. “Of course. I’d love to show it off. Come on. I’ll give you the nickel tour.” Syd set her wine glass down on the end table next to her cell phone and got up to follow her.
They walked toward the back of the house. Lizzy deposited her wine glass on a sideboard near the entrance to her bedroom and flipped a wall switch. “This is the only bedroom,” she began before taking a step into the room, which now was flooded with overhead light.
Syd felt, more than heard, Lizzy’s sharp intake of breath. She ran right into Lizzy who had stopped dead in the doorway.
“Oh, my god! What are you doing here?” Lizzy pushed back against Syd, stiff with shock and fear.
Over her shoulder, Syd was stunned to see the hunched figure of Beau Pitzer, crouched behind the bed. She had only a moment to notice that all of the dresser drawers had been pulled open, and that clothes and other personal objects were strewn everywhere. Behind him, she could see what was left of a broken window. It took her another moment to realize that he now was standing upright and holding a large hunting knife. He started to advance toward them. He stared blearily at Syd, before fixing a menacing gaze on Lizzy.
“I shoulda known you’d be one of them. Fucking dykes.” He was breathing heavily, and his eyes looked glazed. He waved the knife at them as he rounded the end of the bed. Syd grasped Lizzy by the upper arms and tugged her back toward the living room.
“What do you want, Beau?” Syd was shaking all over, but somehow managed to make her voice sound authoritative. Lizzy was rigid and trembling with fear.
“What do you think I want, bitch?” He took another step toward them.
Syd pulled Lizzy back away from him and stood in front of her, facing Beau. “Are you looking for money? Do you need money, Beau?” He was high. She was certain of it. He was high, and he was shaking almost as hard as she was. She gestured toward her purse, on the sofa near the front door. “I have some cash, if that’s what you need. You can have it.”
“Damn straight I can have it.” He stumbled against the dining room table, causing a pair of glass candlestick holders to topple over. “I’ll take the money . . . and maybe I’ll take something else, too.” He advanced closer. Syd could tell that he was struggling to remain upright. He waved the knife at her, standing dangerously close. His breath smelled stale and slightly putrid. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes looked black and lifeless.
“You don’t want to do this, Beau,” Syd said in a near whisper. “You don’t want to hurt anyone.” She was desperate now. Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear herself speak. The sound of her own blood roared in her ears. “Just take the money and leave.”
He stared at her through a haze of pain and rage. Then he smacked her across the face with his free hand and knocked her to the floor near the woodstove. “Fuck you, dyke!” He advanced toward Lizzy, who now stood paralyzed with fear. “I know you’ve been waiting for this.” He grabbed her roughly by the arm and started to haul her with him to the door. “You can come with me, and we’ll have a nice little party.”
Lizzy was crying. Syd struggled to her feet, clutching the side of her face. She felt something wet and sticky beneath her fingers. Her head was reeling. “Beau.” She had to try again. “Beau, stop. Don’t do this. You don’t have to do this.”
He turned to her, nearly losing his balance again. He held the knife out at her, still grasping Lizzy fiercely by the arm. “Back off, bitch. You don’t know anything.”
Syd’s cell phone vibrated on the table. Beau looked at it in alarm. Syd grabbed a piece of firewood from a kindling bucket and slammed it against his arm as hard as she could. The knife went flying, and he doubled over in pain, releasing his stranglehold on Lizzy. Syd pressed her advantage and hit him across the side of the head. The blow reverberated up her arm, and the sharp, fire-like bite of splinters drove into the palm of her hand. He fell to the floor, moaning. Blood poured from a long cut along his hairline.
“Cunt! Fucking cunt,” he hissed. Dazed, he crawled to his feet and careened toward the door, knocking over a chair and end table on his way out. “You’ll pay for this.” He threw the door open and staggered out, tripping over a pyramid of paint cans and half falling from the porch, before regaining his footing and disappearing into the darkness beyond the house.
Syd dropped the piece of wood and raced to the door behind him. She slammed it shut and threw the deadbolt into place. Then she turned and ran back toward the bedroom, shut that door, and hauled a dining room chair over to wedge beneath the knob. Shaking, she made her way back to the sofa and snapped up her cell phone. Lizzy was sitting in a heap on the floor, shaking.
“Hang on, Lizzy. Hang on,” she whispered. “We’re okay now. We’re safe. I’m calling the sheriff.” With shaking fingers, she punched 911 and waited only a few seconds before a female voice answered.
“Tri-County 911. How can we help you?”
Quickly, although not very coherently, Syd told the operator what had happened, and that Beau was injured, dangerous, and still at large. She omitted details of her own condition. The operator assured her that help would be dispatched immediately and cautioned her to stay inside with the doors locked. Then Syd collapsed onto the floor next to Lizzy and pulled the shaking woman into her arms. “It’s okay. We’re okay now. The sheriff is on his way. Lizzy?” She forced Lizzy to look at her. “Do you have any kind of weapon here? A gun? Anything?”
Lizzy dumbly shook her head. She seemed to notice Syd’s injury for the first time. “Oh, my god, you’re bleeding.” She raised a shaking hand to the side of Syd’s face. “Let me look at that.”
Syd’s adrenalin rush was subsiding, and she became aware of how much her head hurt, and the pulsing pain in her hand from the splinters. Her insides were cramping, and she felt like she might vomit.
“You need ice on that, and a butterfly bandage to close the cut. I can get those for you,” Lizzy said in a monotone—her voice almost robotic.
Syd feared she was slipping into shock.
Lizzy started to climb to her feet, but Syd stopped her. “I’m okay for now. Let’s just stay put until the sheriff gets here.” Her voice was high and shaky.
She knew she was hanging on by a thread. What if he comes back? She glanced around the ro
om. She crawled across the floor on her hands and knees, grabbed hold of the fireplace poker, and hauled it back across the rug with her. Maddie. I need to call Maddie. She started shaking again. The minutes dragged by.
In the distance, they heard the wail of a siren cutting through the night like the cry of a screech owl. Thank god. The sound got louder and louder, and soon they could see the flash of blue lights through the front windows. Syd got shakily to her feet and went to unlock the front door.
IF HE HURT her, I’ll kill him. If he hurt either of them, I’ll kill him. Maddie drove as fast as her car, and her better instincts, would allow. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Syd was all right. They both were all right. She told me they were fine. Shaken but fine. The sheriff was there. They were safe. God, please let her be okay. Let them both be okay.
She had thought to grab her emergency bag as she ran from the house, and it sat beside her on the front passenger seat of the Jeep. She wondered if she should have called the EMTs, just to be on the safe side. But Syd insisted that they both were fine. She could make her own assessment once she got there.
She turned onto the road that led to Lizzy’s bungalow. In the distance, she could see flashing blue lights. There were two sheriff’s cars pulled in at angles behind Syd’s Volvo and Lizzy’s car. Syd told her on the phone that armed officers were combing the area around Lizzy’s bungalow, and that the state highway patrol had been alerted to be on the lookout for Beau’s pickup truck. As she slowed down and approached the house, an officer near one of the cars held up a hand, signaling for her to stop, and approached the Jeep with a large flashlight.
“Oh, hello, Dr. Stevenson. You can go right on in. I think they’re all expecting you.”
Maddie nodded. Frank, she thought his name was. Frank Rogers? Frank Smith? Frank something. Last fall, his daughter had the mumps.
“Thanks, Frank,” she said, pulling over and stopping. She grabbed her bag, hopped out, and took the porch steps two at a time. She paused at the open doorway and looked into the house. Her breath caught at the sight that greeted her.
Syd sat next to Lizzy on a small couch. She was holding an ice pack against the side of her face, and her right hand was wrapped in a dishtowel. She looked up anxiously when she heard Maddie’s footsteps on the porch. They gazed at each other in silence for a moment, before Syd dropped the ice pack, got belatedly to her feet, and took a halting step forward. Her jaw was quivering. Maddie dropped her bag, strode forward, and pulled Syd’s shaking body into her arms.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m here, now. I’ve got you,” she muttered into her hair and kissed the top of her head over and over. Syd gripped Maddie and pushed her face deep into her chest. After a few moments, Maddie drew back and tried to coax her to lift her head. “Hey? Hey, let me take a look at your face. C’mon, baby. I need to see if you’re okay.”
“I’m okay. It’s nothing.” Syd wiped her unwrapped hand across her eyes and drew back to gesture down to where Lizzy sat quietly on the sofa watching them. “I’m worried about Lizzy.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He tried to take her with him.”
Maddie kissed her on the forehead one more time before releasing her and kneeling down in front of Lizzy. She laid a gentle hand on her knee. “Lizzy? Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”
Lizzy met her eyes. Her gaze was steady, but vacant. Her face looked waxy and pale. “I’m okay. No, he didn’t hurt me. Syd stopped him.” She looked up at Syd in wonder. “You stopped him. You saved me. You saved us both.”
“I think she might be a little in shock, Doc,” the sheriff said. “We’ve called her sister. They’re on the way to pick her up and take her back to their place in Jefferson.”
Maddie nodded. “That’s good.” She took hold of Lizzy’s hands. They felt clammy. She noticed that she was sitting with her shoulders hunched together and her breathing seemed shallow. “Can you lie back for me, Lizzy? I wanna raise your legs a little bit.” Lizzy complied, and Maddie used a sofa cushion to prop up her legs. She pulled an afghan off the back of a chair and tucked it in around her. “Lie still now, until your sister gets here. Everything is just fine. There isn’t anything to worry about.” She stroked her forehead gently.
Maddie stood up, wrapped an arm around Syd, and guided her to a nearby chair.
“Sit down, honey. I wanna look at your face.” Maddie pushed back Syd’s bangs and looked at the cut and ugly bruise forming near her right eye.
Syd leaned heavily into her. “I’m really okay. I’m just exhausted.”
“I know.” Maddie knelt in front of her and lifted her hand. “What happened to your hand?” She began to unwrap the towel.
“Splinters.” Syd laughed bitterly. “I hit him, Maddie. I hit him with a piece of firewood.” She closed her eyes. “God. I thought I killed him, but he got right up again.”
Maddie felt a wave of anger wash over her. That bastard. She fought to keep her voice calm. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it.” She grabbed her medical bag and pulled it to where they sat. “Lemme get these out before they get even more swollen.” She spread the towel out across Syd’s lap and drew a small bottle of antiseptic wash and a long pair of tweezers out of her bag. She looked up and met Syd’s green eyes. “I promise to be quick, okay?”
Syd nodded. “Okay.” She closed her fingers around Maddie’s hand briefly, causing her to look back up. “I love you,” she whispered.
The sheriff cleared his throat and walked back toward the fireplace.
“I know,” Maddie said softly. “I love you, too.” She gave her a small smile and swabbed her palm with the antiseptic.
As she was pulling out the last splinter, the sheriff’s radio broke the silence. A crackly voice summoned him. “Sheriff Martin, we’ve got a 904B in town at the upholstery shop.”
He snapped the unit up off a table. “This is Martin. Say again.”
“It’s Adams, sir. We’ve got a 904B at Halsey’s shop in Jericho. Looks like it started on the loading dock out back.”
“Roger that. Anyone inside?”
“Negative, sir. VFD responders say both storefronts were empty, and they checked the apartment upstairs.”
He shot a quick look across the room at Syd. “Roger. Seal off the block and evacuate the rest of the buildings on that side of the street. I’m on my way.”
“10-4. Adams out.”
“What’s going on?” Syd looked up at him in alarm.
He walked to them, carrying his radio. “Looks like someone tried to set fire to your library.”
“Jesus.” Syd try to stand up. Maddie took hold of Syd’s hands to restrain her. “How bad is it?”
“Don’t know yet.”
From outside, they heard the sound of voices, followed by footsteps on the porch. Lizzy’s sister and brother-in-law rushed into the house. A sheriff’s deputy went to brief them on the situation and to make arrangements for them to take Lizzy back to their house for the night.
Rachel Wilson was like a carbon copy of her sister. She had the same brown eyes and curly red hair, but right now, her face was pale and etched with concern. She perched next to Lizzy on the arm of the sofa and looked up at Maddie with wide eyes.
“Dr. Stevenson. Is she okay? Do we need to take her to the hospital?”
Maddie stood up. “I think she’ll be fine, Rachel. She’s a little in shock. She just needs some rest and some TLC. Take her home.” She smiled down at her nurse. “Give her some hot tea and a warm bed. By tomorrow, she’ll be as feisty as ever. Won’t you, Lizzy?”
Lizzy gave her a weak smile in return. “I’ll sure give it a shot.” She looked at Syd. “Will you be all right?”
Syd took hold of Maddie’s hand. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Right now, I just want to see if my library’s okay.”
Maddie turned to the sheriff. “All right if we follow you over there, Byron?”
He sighed. Then gave a curt nod. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good t
o say no.” He pulled on his hat. “Come on.”
Chapter 23
They could see an unnatural light in the night sky even before they topped the last rise into town. Maddie heard Syd’s quick intake of breath as she slowed the Jeep down and stopped behind Byron’s car.
“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. What did he do?” Syd was trembling again.
Maddie rested a hand on top of Syd’s and squeezed it gently. Ahead of them, the sheriff leaned out his car window and spoke to the uniformed officer who stood in front of a line of orange traffic cones. He gestured toward Maddie’s Jeep, and the deputy nodded as he stepped back to wave them through.
The closer they got to the library, the smokier the air became. Maddie pulled over and parked behind Byron’s car, about half a block from the fire. Small groups of people were clustered on the perimeter of the scene, standing quietly with stunned expressions.
Several fire trucks, an EMT van, and half a dozen police cars filled the street outside the structure. There was water everywhere. It ran in crooked rivulets along the cracked pavement and pooled in the potholes that were reopened every winter by county snowplows. Maddie stood just behind Syd and kept a protective arm around her shoulders, as much for restraint as comfort. From their vantage point, they could see that the upholstery shop had sustained most of the damage from the fire.
It was clear that the Jericho VFD had most of the fire contained, but some flames were still visible on the second floor of Halsey’s shop. All the windows had been broken, and shards of glass covered the pavement in front of the structure. Dark smudges from smoke and water lined the front of the building, tarring the masonry beneath the windows like cheap mascara. The library windows appeared to be intact, and Byron commented that, apparently, the thick firewall between the tandem buildings had done its job. How much of Syd’s inventory would be lost to smoke and water damage was another matter. They’d have to wait until daylight to find that out. The fate of Syd’s apartment, and all her personal belongings, was equally uncertain.
