by Leslie Caine
“But if you shoot me you won’t have a hostage.”
“I’ll grab the next girl I see. Maybe one of your little bridesmaids in their pretty black dresses.”
I gritted my teeth, filled with hatred for Mark. This was like arguing with a toddler. I could use as logical an argument as I wanted, but he was operating on pure adrenaline and raw emotions. I started walking. “Why did Michelle give me the DVD?” I asked. She could and should have given it to the police! Over a week ago!
“She was blackmailing me. It was her protection. She forced me to promise to leave the country by the end of the month and let her divorce me. She’s a computer whiz. She set up her computer so that unless she keyed in the correct password each month, the video would be automatically sent to the police. She claimed she was doing it for both our benefits. Giving me the chance to build a new life for myself. Giving her the chance to raise her kids without the stigma of knowing their dad was a murderer, rotting away in a penitentiary.”
Steve was right. Mark acted alone. But, inexplicably, she’d set me up for a fall. I continued walking as slowly as possible. I had no intention of getting into his car with him. Or, at least, I wouldn’t if I could possibly help it.
He snorted. “Stupid thing is, Zoey’s not even my kid. When she was born, I just thought she had a naturally darker complexion than either of us. But, nope. Michelle tricked me into marrying her. I guess she couldn’t dig up a black man willing to marry her that quick.”
We were nearing the storage shed. I was running out of time. My gorgeous gown was a handicap. I couldn’t possibly outrun Mark, and all of my white fabric made me an easy target.
A good-sized rock was by my feet. I waited until Mark was just a step behind me, then I dropped to my knees, grabbed the rock, and slammed it into his kneecap. He yelped in pain and fell, right beside me. I pounded the rock straight into the gun in his hand. He dropped the gun.
I heard voices in the background. “Help!” I yelled.
Mark lunged at my throat. “I warned you! I’m going to kill you with my bare hands!”
He had me flat on my back in an instant, with his big hands wrapped around my throat. He was incredibly strong. I was struggling to breathe.
My vision was fading into gray.
“Stop or I’ll shoot!” someone yelled. It sounded like Steve. “Let her go!”
Mark’s grip eased. An instant later, Steve loomed over Mark. He punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground.
“Freeze! Police!” Linda Delgardio shouted, running up the path toward us. Steve must have outraced her and pretended to have a gun in order to buy me a precious extra second of freedom from Mark’s stranglehold.
Despite my haze of pain and panicked struggle to breathe, I managed to look at Linda. She was still wearing her cocktail dress—green silk with a leaf-like uneven hemline. But now she had her service revolver. It was pointed right at Mark.
“Erin. Are you okay?” Steve asked.
I was gasping for air, unable to talk. Mark was staring at a spot on the ground. I followed his gaze and saw a glint—a reflection of the light from the full moon. “Gun!” I managed to say, pointing.
“Don’t try it!” Linda growled at Mark. “You don’t want to tempt me!”
Detective O’Reilly came running up the path, his revolver drawn but pointed at the ground in front of him. Within seconds, Linda was reading Mark his rights while O’Reilly was putting handcuffs on him.
“Michelle told us about Mark,” Steve explained to me. “She’d seen the waiter pointing this way, and she guessed that Mark could have been luring you out here. So we asked the waiter, and he admitted he’d lied about who wanted you to come out here. The whole thing about the DVD was a setup to trick Mark into doing something stupid! She fooled him into thinking it was a recording of him killing Drew. She didn’t actually have a surveillance camera on the porch.”
“What—” I couldn’t talk. Even though pressing my hand to my throat helped a little, it was too painful. I wanted to ask what he was talking about. Why would she pull a stunt like that on me with no warning?
“Let’s get you to a doctor,” Steve said. “Can you walk, or should I carry you?”
“Walk,” I managed reply. While he was helping me to my feet, Michelle emerged and ran up to us. “Erin. Oh, thank God. We got to you in time.”
“What the hell were you thinking!” Steve yelled at her. “How could you set her up like this? She was almost killed!”
“I didn’t know how else to get him to confess, Stevie! Like I said before, I didn’t have any actual evidence. So when he told me about killing Fitz on our drive home from your party, I knew I had to do something. But I couldn’t even goad him into hitting me, or talking about killing Fitz again, once I’d set up a couple of cameras inside. So I made up a bogus story about my having a video of him killing Drew.”
Steve didn’t reply, his features set in an angry glare.
“He told me he’d made Amelia look guilty by buying the cyanide under her name…on her computer while she was babysitting. I was trying to protect our sister from getting arrested. Plus he’s my husband. I can’t testify against him. Then when I knew he’d killed Drew, I couldn’t cope with my bad luck at not setting up a camera on the front porch. So I bluffed…and he never called me on it. But then Aunt Bea got arrested for his crime. I was desperate. Don’t you see? This was the only way I could stop him.”
“Are you ready to go?” Steve asked me gently, studiously ignoring Michelle.
I shook my head a little. My neck hurt like mad. I looked down. I seemed to have cuts and bruises over my entire body. My gown was no longer ever going to be suitable to hand down to a daughter.
Linda and O’Reilly each grabbed one of Mark’s arms and began escorting him toward the back parking lot, where I could see red flashes of light on the horizon. O’Reilly must have radioed ahead for backup patrol cars to surround the area. Linda paused and said, “Michelle, we’re going to need a full statement from you. Wait here for an officer.”
She groaned, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I did my best, Stevie. I was just trying to keep Zoey and myself safe from Mark. To make the best life possible, considering my hideous mistake in marrying him.” She grabbed his arm with both of her hands.
“Get a lawyer,” Steve growled at her. He jerked his arm free from her grip.
“You understand, don’t you, Erin?” Michelle pleaded. “I’m so, so sorry. I knew he would panic and incriminate himself. And I couldn’t figure out any better way to trick him into proving he was guilty. But I didn’t know he had a handgun. In my wildest dreams, I didn’t believe he’d try to kill you.”
She’d used poor judgment, but for a noble reason. “I do understand,” I whispered, and Steve looked at me, his eyes wide with surprise. Someday, I was sure, he too would understand, and both of us would forgive Michelle. Just not today.
Steve returned his attention to his sister. “Don’t talk to Erin. She was nearly killed. You put my wife’s life at risk! You don’t deserve to be her sister-in-law!”
We started down the path.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Michelle cried, sobbing audibly. “I didn’t know how to warn you guys about my tricking him with the DVD I gave you.”
Michelle could have found dozens of better ways to get Mark under arrest. She’d chosen this one—to fool him into thinking she was giving me an incriminating video. But it didn’t really matter whether or not the ends justified the means; either way, it was over. Aunt Bea would be vindicated; Mark would go to prison, quite possibly for the rest of his life.
“We’ll be okay,” I said to Steve in as loud a voice as I could muster. I wanted to say more, but talking was too painful. I wanted to tell Steve that, even if it turned out to be just him and me against the entire world, this was still where I always wanted to be—right by his side, as his wife.
Bride and groom.
About the Author
Lesl
ie Caine was once taken hostage and gunpoint and finds that writing about crimes is infinitely more enjoyable than taking part in them.
She is author of three cozy mystery series: the Molly Masters Mysteries, writing as Leslie O’Kane, featuring Leslie's alter ego: a mother of two cartoonist who creates eCards; the Allie Babcock Mysteries, writing as Leslie O’Kane, featuring a dog therapist; and the Domestic Bliss Mysteries, writing as Leslie Caine, featuring interior designers Erin Gilbert and Steve Sullivan.
To learn more about her series and learn about new releases, please visit: www.leslieokane.com
Discover Leslie Caine
Allie Babcock Mysteries
Play Dead
Ruff Way to Go
Allie Babcock Box Set (Books 1 & 2)
Give the Dog a Bone
Woof at the Door
A Dog-Gone Christmas Novella
Domestic Bliss Mysteries
Death by Inferior Design
False Premises
Manor of Death
Killed by Clutter
Fatal Feng Shui
Poisoned by Gilt
Holly and Homicide
Molly Masters Mysteries
Death Comes to the PTA
Death at a Talent Show
Death on a School Board
Death Comes to a Retreat
Death of a Gardener
Death Comes to Suburbia
