Together they cranked the ventilation panel open a few more inches. Exertion took its toll, and the girls were soaked and shaken by the time they’d cranked the opening a few precious inches wider.
“Wait, Pam. We still don’t know what’s out there. Logically it shouldn’t be just a straight drop to the ground, but we can’t be sure. I’ll climb up and look.” Diana scrambled up the steps, testing each move before grasping the next one above, and peered out at the roof below. “Looks like we’re above the main room, but fairly high. I’d hate to go through all this and then break my neck trying to get down. Drag one of those mattresses off the cot and pass it up here. We can push it down the roof and land on it if we have to jump.”
Jump! The thought made chills run up Diana’s back. Biting back the fears that threatened to immobilize her, Diana waited as Pam hauled one narrow mattress from the cot and shoved it up to her sister. Diana squeezed to one side and thrust it out the opening.
Rolling back on her stomach, she took a quick survey outside. “Looks like it slid to the edge of the roof. The opening isn’t quite wide enough for us to squeeze out. We’ll have to crank it a little more.”
Still fearing their captors would return, the girls went back to the bottom of the ladder and worked the crank again. At least the room was cooler. Almost certain the aperture was wide enough for two slender girls to squirm out, they started up the ladder once more.
Diana, refusing to let herself think about the steps pulling loose or cracking, crept up the steps, followed by Pam. Though to Diana they felt impossibly narrow and close together, the old boards were sound. Shaking, her palms damp, Diana could barely see the strange path to their escape. At any moment she expected either to miss the next step or to hear the door open below. Refusing to look down or to glance back at the door, she kept her mind on the next step, the next rise, and the damp breeze blowing in her face.
Suddenly she was at the top, just below the open panel. Ducking her head, she pushed her shoulders through the opening. Pam wriggled out beside her.
“Di, it’s all right. We’re on the roof. We’re out.”
Diana cautiously looked down. The roof wasn’t too sharply pitched, though the ground appeared to be much too far below for her peace of mind. She stretched flat on her stomach against the cedar roof, drawing in one long, exhausted breath of cooler air.
“We made it.”
“This far.” Pam, squirming to the corner of the roof, peered down. “I don’t see the jalopy the goons were driving. I’ll bet they’ve gone after Trey and the owls. We have to get down from here and warn them.” She dragged the thin mattress over the shingles and pushed. It fell with a plop onto the ragged ground below. “Not much help, but it’s something.”
“What now?” Diana inched after her. “The corner post of the porch?”
“It’s probably the only way, short of jumping. Even with that mattress, I don’t think much of that idea.” Without pausing to think out any other plan, Pamina twisted closer to the edge, reaching over as far as her arms could stretch, rolled past the edge, and grabbed for the curved trellis branching from the top of the corner post. And missed!
“Pam!” Diana shrieked and caught the hem of her sister’s silk dress. She heard the fabric tear, but the intervention was enough to break Pam’s momentum, giving her a split second to throw her arms around the post.
“I’m all right, Di. Let go. I can get down from here.” Pam held on to the post for a moment, then shimmied down to drop the last two feet to the mattress below. “I can get up to the railing, Di, and reach for you. Swing over, but don’t let go until I’m where I can catch you. Once I have you, grab the post.”
Knowing if either of them misjudged the distance, the results would be disastrous for both, Diana learned from her sister’s impetuous descent. Though the rough shingles were shredding her dress and tore at her bare arms, she made certain she had a grip on the fretwork below the roof before she turned loose and rolled over the edge. Pam gripped her ankles, and she reached for the corner post with one hand. As soon as she had a firm grip, hugging the rough post and clinging with her knees, she wrapped both arms around the support. With Pam’s assistance, she dropped down, an inch at a time, wriggling down the post until her bare feet felt the coarse fabric of the cot mattress. The girls clung together, sagging against the porch rail, and breathing in their hard-won freedom.
Diana glanced at the threatening sky. “We’re out! Now we have to get to Adler’s house. Gunn’s men have a head start on us, but we have to try.”
“Which way? We’ll have to run for it.” Pam looked up and down the street, and then gave the grumbling sky an apprehensive glare. “It’s going to rain pitchforks in about five minutes. And without shoes, we aren’t going cross country, so how fast can we get there?”
Diana shook her head. “Not in five minutes, but there’s pavement once we get past this lane. I know where we are.” She pointed toward the end of the dark track. “Up there, we turn right. Go four streets up. Another right, and Adler’s house is at the end of the next street.”
“And pray our old friends from home don’t start back and see us.”
“Keep to the far side. If we see anybody coming, dive. Those bushes are thick enough to hide us.”
Lightning flashed, a jagged tear in the night sky. Thunder rolled almost in the same instant. The tempest was close; both girls knew how dangerous it would be for them to be caught in a lightning storm. Without another word, they ran for the street, ignoring the pebbles and twigs bruising their naked feet. Wind shook leaves over them and lower tree limbs whipped side to side as they dashed through the rising turbulence. The lane seemed to go on and on. Diana clutched her side and gasped for breath, long grasses slapping her bare legs, sharp rocks cutting her feet, and lightning crackling overhead.
“Turn right?” Pam panted, raising her voice above the howl of wind and rumbling thunder. “Here?”
Diana realized they had reached the brick-paved street. She nodded, too breathless to answer. They made the turn. The street was empty, no one lingering to watch nature’s fireworks. Diana looked for a passing car, but none appeared. The businesses along the way were closed and dark. Not wasting time trying to raise anyone, the girls hurried on, breathless, pushing to reach the next street, the next block, the brick pavers like sandpaper on their feet. They left small sprinklings of blood in their path, but adrenalin was running too high for them to feel the pain. As they made the final turn, pellets of hard rain began to pound them.
“Adler’s…house.” Diana pointed to the brick home at the end of the street, too winded to say more. No light spilled from the front windows. What if we’re too late? What if…
The skies opened and driving rain almost knocked Diana to her knees. Wiping her eyes, she blocked all thought from her mind. They wouldn’t be too late. Somehow they wouldn’t. Pam caught her hand. Her heart pounded in her throat, but together they floundered up the walkway. Wet clothing slowed their headlong dash. Near the back door, through the torrent, she saw the outline of a car, a car that didn’t belong, parked in the shelter of the ancient trees.
“They’re here.”
Pam huffed beside her. “They’ll have to deal with me if they’ve done anything to Trey!”
Pamina pounded up the porch steps, Diana barely a step behind her. They didn’t pause to knock. Pam grasped the door and pushed with all her might. The door flew open under the onslaught. Both girls tumbled into the foyer. A shot rang out. They froze, for the moment unable to move or see what was happening.
Flashes of lightning outlined a battle in progress, a battle that likely began as a serious attack but was rapidly becoming a one-sided farce. Two figures dodged flying books. In the glare of lightning, a pair of rotund professors overturned the heavy settee and pushed it across the floor, ducking down and shoving their improvised barricade toward the knees of the invaders. Thunder shook the windows, and a flurry of more books sailing across the room sent small orn
aments crashing to the floor.
“I have a gun!”
The settee rammed into the taller man. He lurched sideways, clutching the metal object gleaming in the dark.
“You’re under a misapprehension.” Diana was certain she heard Pearce’s didactic tone. “You had a gun. Now you have an empty implement. I’ve been keeping a count. That was your last shot.”
Another book cruised through the air, falling short of its target but smashing into a lamp or vase, something large enough to shatter beside the invader. Lightning flashed again, giving brief illumination. Diana could see shadowed figures shifting around the topsy-turvy room.
“No, it’s not empty! It’s not!” The gun made a dry, clicking mockery of his claim.
A flick of movement to one side caught Diana’s attention. She barely saw the thin line of the cane as it came down sharply. It made a sickening snap against flesh and bone.
“Aaarrrgh!” The taller man crumpled. “My wrist, you broke it!”
“Indubitably.” Holmes’ dry tone acknowledged the contact.
The shorter man spun, threw a loose coil of cord or rope aside, and tried to dash for the front door. Diana and Pam were between him and his intended exit.
“No, you don’t!” Pam caught the sleeve of his coat and clawed at his face. Diana grabbed the first thing her hand touched, a padded doorstop, and banged it across his forehead. He wrenched away from the girls, but Diana held on, digging into the braces holding his pants. His efforts dragged her halfway to the door, but were abruptly stopped.
“Not leaving so soon?” Trey came from the other side of the room, forced the shorter man’s coat down his arms, and pinned him against the wall. His struggle halted, the miscreant was marched back into the shambles of the parlor. Trey glanced around. “Archibald, if you could locate some light, I believe you’ll find these rude fellows brought some line or cord to the party. If you will retrieve it, I suggest we confine them where they won’t create any more trouble. Once we get them secured, I’ll take the car and locate the authorities.” A flicker of a match was followed by the glow of a single candle. In its small light, Trey glanced at the two figures beside him. “I’m sure Adler will be relieved to know where his bride and her sister are, as well.”
Though the men resisted, clearly they were not going to escape. The wrist, swollen and misaligned, was causing its owner no small amount of pain. He howled at the least touch. His companion, whose swollen eye and clawed face testified to the girls’ retaliation, wrenched himself loose, but Holmes brought his formidable cane across a knee, dropping him in mid-step.
“I think it would be prudent to comply with Trey’s plan,” he remarked mildly as the whimpering malefactor shuddered at an encouraging poke from the ebony stick.
Seeing their recent captors now the captives, Diana and Pamina dropped in wet exhaustion to the lowest step of the staircase. Pearce came toward them, carrying a small oil lamp, making a wider pool of light in the dark foyer. Outside the open front door, the rain pounded, almost covering the sound of retreating thunder.
“Good evening, ladies.” Pearce crossed the foyer to offer his hand to help them up, then closed the door on the storm. “We seem to have had quite a few unexpected callers this evening. Would you care to join our other guests? They’re a bit tied up at the moment, but I’m certain you’ll be happy to see them.”
Diana and Pam exchanged looks. Dr. Pearce seemed unconcerned about their disheveled appearance and their opportune arrival. Dripping, leaving an occasional trace of blood in the puddles behind them, they followed him through the foyer and into the parlor.
“Dr. Pearce! Is everyone all right?” By the dim light, Diana saw the parlor and shuddered at the mayhem that filled that decorous room. Tables lay top-side down, with shards of glass scattered between. The plush settee, halfway across the room and still resting on tufted arms, spilled cushions in all directions. Adler’s wing-backed chair had toppled to one side, lifted off the floor by the pile of books that had fallen from the shelf behind it. Over it all, a small storm of papers spilled in uneven heaps on any semi-level surface.
“Forgive the mess, my dear. We weren’t expecting more company.” He gave the room a dismissive look. “In fact, we weren’t expecting any.”
“Gunn’s men found us. I’m so sorry, but somehow they did, and they found you as well.”
“So we discovered. We lingered a bit longer with Erlich and Lotte than we’d planned after the wedding. When we got here, we found interlopers of a rowdy sort awaiting us. They seemed to think we were going somewhere with them, but we’d had enough excitement for the day, what with your wedding and all the celebrating. We declined. They became most insistent, supposing that force of arms and deplorable manners would convince us if threats didn’t. But their math was somewhat inaccurate. They seemed to think two rude louts outnumbered four fairly able academics. Holmes is quite handy with his cane, you know, and Trey was invincible. I fancy Getty and I acquitted ourselves acceptably with the settee and a goodly number of the heavier tomes. Unfortunately, in the melee, I fear Adler’s parlor suffered some damage.” He looked around, slightly amazed at the confusion. “But I digress. Now our visitors are comfortably situated in the kitchen, where the chairs are sturdy and their restraints won’t damage anything. I fear one gentleman, the one who had a small firearm, suffered a broken wrist when Holmes struck him with that ebony cane. Unfortunate but most persuasive. I don’t think they were expecting to meet you here, and your timely arrival did add to their discomfort, I believe. Perhaps you’d like to say a more conventional hello?”
Diana and Pam exchanged looks and hobbled after the chubby professor, carefully avoiding the glisten of broken glass on the floor. In the kitchen, tied securely to a straight chair, sat the tall man, pale with pain, cold sweat beading his forehead to testify to his misery. On the other side, looking more like an angry elf than ever and bearing the results of his encounter with them, crouched the man Diana had seen so briefly under the streetlight. The expression on each face as the sisters came in was one film makers would have treasured. Classic shock could never be reproduced to that degree by any actor.
Pamina, looking from Getty to Holmes to Pearce, grew agitated. “Where’s Trey? He isn’t hurt, is he?”
Pearce patted her shoulder. “No, my dear. Young Trey is just fine. He’s gone for the authorities. After some discussion, reluctantly we concluded that, because of the unusual circumstances, Adler would have to be advised of the situation.” Pearce glanced at the two miscreants glaring back from the other end of the room. “I suppose he’ll be bringing Adler here as well as the constabulary. We may have to postpone our departure in order to see these unfortunate souls receive appropriate penalty for their misdeeds.”
Diana put a hand on Pearce’s shoulder. “You’re certain Adler is coming here?”
Pearce nodded. “Why, yes, we thought it would be best, since you and your sister were party to this affair.” He looked at her, head tilted, like a suddenly awakened owl. “But my dear Diana, isn’t it the usual thing for the bride to spend her wedding night with the groom?” His cherubic face puckered in worry. “It’s been raining fairly hard. You’re quite damp.” He looked down. “I fear you’ve somehow mislaid your shoes. You’ll catch cold if you go around barefoot like that in a storm. Oh, and I believe you’re standing in a small puddle of blood.”
Chapter 23
Pain, raw and burning, shot through Diana. She’d only been vaguely aware of discomfort until Pearce’s words made her look. Her feet, scraped by bricks and bruised by pebbles and sticks, were raw and bleeding. Open shallow cuts seeped red. A double trail of red prints showed in the dim light. Suddenly lightheaded, she sank down on the bench beside the window.
“My dear girl! I’m afraid you’re quite done in.” Pearce flapped his hands, bewildered. “What can we do?”
Pam, obviously in as much pain as Diana, sat beside her sister. “Archie, get some hot water and towels, and see if Adler h
as something we can wrap our feet with. And blankets.” Her teeth chattered. “We’re soaking wet.”
“Hot water. Yes, hot water, Getty. Blankets, too.” Pearce raised his voice so Getty could hear in spite of his deafness. “I’ll get towels. Holmes, go…no, you’d best stay here and keep your cane ready. We want no more interference from these gentlemen.”
“Archie, a spot of brandy wouldn’t go amiss, if you happen to know where some might be kept…for medicinal purposes, of course.”
Diana took the kitchen towels Holmes tossed her and passed one to Pamina. Gritting her teeth, she began to wipe away the muddy stains from her feet. Every touch of the soft old towel almost set her on fire, but by the time the worried owls managed to find supplies, she had cleaned away most of the grime. Getty’s blankets were more than welcome.
Gingerly she slipped her feet into the basin, cringing as the hot water soaked into the raw flesh. Pam was doing no better. Her eyes squinched closed and her jaw was set as she, too, lowered her feet into a steaming basin. Wordlessly, Pearce handed each of them a tumbler half filled with clear liquid. Diana took a sip, and a fire equal to that in her abused feet ran from throat to stomach.
“Whew! What is that?” she gasped when she had caught her breath.
Pamina giggled. “That, dear sister, is grade A, fresh from the still, one hundred per cent pure grain alcohol.” She took a swallow, shuddering delicately. “Where did you nice, law-abiding professors come up with it? I’ll bet Trey doesn’t know about your secret stash.”
Pearce had a slight flush on his rubicund face. “As a matter of fact, Trey was the one who procured this small bottle for us. We do sometimes add a dram or so to our coffee. We find it quite stimulating after a long day.” He poured a little on a clean towel. “I’m told it’s also effective for cleaning wounds, though I believe it will sting a bit.”
“Sting” wasn’t the word Diana would have chosen. Burns like hell! She bit her lip to keep from howling, but managed to clean the raw skin on the soles of her feet. As she finished and passed the towel to Pamina, heavy steps pounded through the foyer. She looked up to see her husband of a few hours dash the length of the kitchen.
Diana and the Three Behrs Page 29
