Bouncing Betty
Page 8
“Beautiful dress,” he said, his face contorted and crazed. “You were quite good at your job. I don’t want you to die thinking you were a disappointment. But you were playing against a stacked deck. You were always going to lose.”
He loosened his grip enough for me to gasp for air and then closed off my passageway again. Spots danced in front of my eyes and the pain in my lungs felt like I’d swallowed hot pokers.
“If it’s any consolation, I enjoyed you more than any of the others who’ve died before you. But these things happen,” he said. “It’s war. And war is about money and power, and I have both.”
Somewhere during his speech I’d resigned myself to dying. I couldn’t fight him. He was too big, and I didn’t have much strength left. But then he’d made the comment about how he’d done to other women what he was doing to me, and there was somewhere in my brain that took offense to that. I’d never been like other women, and I certainly wasn’t going to die like one.
I remembered the knife in my hand, and I thought of my father and that he’d finally done something good as I jabbed the knife into the soft tissue of his stomach and jerked up with the blade. Just like I’d been taught.
Graham’s eyes widened and he released me, taking a stumbling step back and then another. I fell to my knees and gasped in air. If he’d been able to kill me at that moment, I would have been a goner because I had nothing left. But he just stood there, looking down at the green hilt protruding from his belly.
He stumbled back once more and tripped, falling to his backside, so he was half propped against the cage and the wall. Blood covered the front of his shirt and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
“Just in case you need the information in hell,” I told him. “Never compare one woman to another. We don’t like that.”
A gray pallor came over his face and the life went out of his eyes. And Henry Graham, the Alliance’s most infamous spy and the man who’d made me hope for love, was dead.
Epilogue
“Holy smokes,” Ada said, her eyes wide and her mouth forming a soft O of surprise. “That was certainly not what I was expecting.”
“The best stories never are,” Scarlet said, giving her a wink.
“Mama is not going to like that you told me that end part. She says garbage in means garbage out,” she said, pointing to her brain.
“That’s true,” Scarlet said. “But I’d hardly call it garbage. I was a hero. I even got a medal.”
“I guess that’s okay then,” she said. “But just in case maybe we should keep this between you and me. I can keep secrets as good as any spy.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Scarlet said, turning the knife over in her hand. The picture in her mind of that day was just as clear more than three-quarters of a century later. She could still feel what it felt like to defend herself and she could still smell the blood.
“Did it make you sad to have to kill him?” Ada asked softly.
“Not really,” Scarlet said, and then she decided to tell the truth. “Maybe a little. I thought we might have a future together. There was a time in my life where I thought about having a husband who’d take me all over the world on grand adventures.”
“And children?” Ada asked.
“Nope,” Scarlet said. “I like wearing fancy dresses and drinking whiskey too much. Children tend to mess up aspirations like that. But I got to have your mama and I get to have you. And that’s just as good as having my own children.”
“I suppose so,” Ada agreed. “I’m sorry you had to kill him. He seemed nice at the beginning of your story.”
“Oh, he was a charmer,” Scarlet said. “But he had it coming. Though I prefer long-distance killing. A knife is awful messy, and hitting bone gives me the heebie-jeebies. Probably not something you’ll have to worry about though.”
“I should hope not,” Ada said. “What about the Cordiers? Did you save them?”
“I saved the children,” she said, frowning. She didn’t like to think about Dr. Meissner and what he’d done to those poor babies. It had taken her years to stop the nightmares after the war was over. “Unfortunately, Mr. Cordier had already succumbed to Dr. Meissner’s experiments. The children and I were all smuggled out of France just hours later. And it was right in the nick of time. Not two days later the Nazis bombed Marseilles, and hundreds of people were killed and all the homes and businesses along the waterfront were destroyed. It was a horrible time, and the Nazis were horrible people.
Ada chewed at her lip worriedly, and Scarlet forgot how young she was. It was an easy thing to do because Ada was as sharp as a box of tacks and had been reading almost as soon as she’d started talking.
“So they grew up without parents?” she asked. “That must have been horrible.”
“I imagine it was for a while,” Scarlet said. “But we got them out of Marseille to London, and they were smuggled on a ship to the United States. They ended up with a wonderful family, and they’re all still alive today.”
“You still know them?” Ada asked, excitement in her eyes.
“You get to be my age you know just about everyone.”
Ada nodded as if it were fact. “What happened after you got out of Marseille?”
“They gave me a job.”
“A job killing people?” Ada asked.
“Not exactly,” Scarlet said. “A job as a full-time spy. On loan, of course, from the American government. I’d stolen a lot of information from Wagner’s office, and I’d memorized his maps. I was able to save a lot of people with that information.”
Ada’s eyes were practically goggling out of her head. “I can’t wait to tell Paris Wheeler you were a spy and killed Nazis. Her family is a bunch of good-for-nothings.”
Scarlet had known the Wheelers for a lot of years, and she had to agree—they were a bunch of good-for-nothings, so she moved on.
“I felt right at home over there,” Scarlet said. “And I was good at a lot of things, like learning a bunch of languages and being sneaky.”
“That’s true,” Ada said. “Granny is always talking about how sneaky you are, and Mama says you need to do a better job of watching your language around me.” She screwed up her face and looked at Scarlet quizzically. “Is that the kind of language you’re talking about?”
“Kind of. Those words are good in every language, and if you’re going to be a good spy you’ve got to learn all of them. As far as being sneaky, it’s in the blood. My daddy snuck around making illegal whiskey for years and never got caught, and your mama’s whole business is sneaking around and spying on people.”
“I guess I never thought about it that way,” Ada said. “I guess that makes me a natural sneak.”
“Don’t go getting any crazy ideas. You’ll know when it’s your moment to be sneaky. It’ll present itself to you, just like it did to me all those years ago.”
Scarlet felt the strain of exhaustion and the weight of memories she hadn’t thought of in a long time. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go in and have a nap before dinner. Verna is making tacos.”
Ada hopped up out of the swing as only someone with youth could do, and then she grabbed Scarlet’s hand and helped her to her feet.
“Do you think you could tell me some more stories?” Ada asked.
“About what?”
She jumped up and down in her Mary Janes, and squeezed Scarlet’s hand. “Did you kill anyone else? Did you fall in love again? What happened with the war?”
“You should read a history book instead of watching The Bachelor,” Scarlet told her. “You can find out real fast how it ended.”
Ada waved the suggestion away. “I know how the war ended,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We creamed them. I learned all about it on this documentary I saw. I want to hear about another mission. Did Graham ruin you for all men like your friend said he would?”
“Those are definitely questions for after a nap,” Scarlet said. “And maybe a highball. I’m going to need some energy
to talk about that.”
Ada rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “That sounds better than TV.” And then she stopped and stared at Scarlet, as if she were trying to see her as she had been so long ago instead of the stooped and wrinkled woman standing before her. And then a look of worry came over her face. “Mama and Daddy are going to call tonight and ask about my first day at school.”
Scarlet nodding, understanding where Ada was going with the statement. “How about we make a deal. I won’t mention Paris Wheeler if you don’t mention the story I just told you. We don’t want to upset your mama. It might make the baby crazy.”
Ada pressed her lips together. “I don’t think that’s a thing, but it sounds like a pretty good deal to me. Can I call you Bouncing Betty?”
“Not if you want to live to see first grade.”
“How about an extra dessert after dinner?”
Scarlet put her hands on her hips and looked down at the tiny sprite of a girl. “And what do I get?”
“You can have an extra dessert too,” she said. “It’s a win-win.”
“Yep, you’re a Holmes all right,” Scarlet said, following Ada into the house and letting the screen door slam behind them.
Scarlet’s adventures are just beginning! Make sure you check out Hand Grenade Helen, coming June 2021.
ORDER NOW!
Hand Grenade Helen
Also by Liliana Hart
JJ Graves Mystery Series
Dirty Little Secrets
A Dirty Shame
Dirty Rotten Scoundrel
Down and Dirty
Dirty Deeds
Dirty Laundry
Dirty Money
A Dirty Job
Dirty Devil
Playing Dirty
Dirty Martini
* * *
Addison Holmes Mystery Series
Whiskey Rebellion
Whiskey Sour
Whiskey For Breakfast
Whiskey, You’re The Devil
Whiskey on the Rocks
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Whiskey and Gunpowder
Whiskey Lullaby
* * *
The Scarlet Chronicles
Bouncing Betty
Hand Grenade Helen
Front Line Francis
* * *
The Harley and Davidson Mystery Series
The Farmer’s Slaughter
A Tisket a Casket
I Saw Mommy Killing Santa Claus
Get Your Murder Running
Deceased and Desist
Malice in Wonderland
Tequila Mockingbird
Gone With the Sin
Grime and Punishment
Blazing Rattles
A Salt and Battery
Curl Up and Dye
First Comes Death Then Comes Marriage
Box Set 1
Box Set 2
Box Set 3
* * *
The Gravediggers
The Darkest Corner
Gone to Dust
Say No More
About the Author
Liliana Hart is a New York Times, USA Today, and Publisher’s Weekly bestselling author of more than sixty titles. After starting her first novel her freshman year of college, she immediately became addicted to writing and knew she’d found what she was meant to do with her life. She has no idea why she majored in music.
Since publishing in June 2011, Liliana has sold more than six-million books. All three of her series have made multiple appearances on the New York Times list.
Liliana can almost always be found at her computer writing, hauling five kids to various activities, or spending time with her husband. She calls Texas home.
If you enjoyed reading this, I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book, too.
Recommend it. Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to friends, readers’ groups and discussion boards.
Review it. Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing.
Connect with me online:
www.lilianahart.com
Also by Liliana Hart
JJ Graves Mystery Series
Dirty Little Secrets
A Dirty Shame
Dirty Rotten Scoundrel
Down and Dirty
Dirty Deeds
Dirty Laundry
Dirty Money
A Dirty Job
Dirty Devil
Playing Dirty
Dirty Martini
* * *
Addison Holmes Mystery Series
Whiskey Rebellion
Whiskey Sour
Whiskey For Breakfast
Whiskey, You’re The Devil
Whiskey on the Rocks
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Whiskey and Gunpowder
Whiskey Lullaby
* * *
The Scarlet Chronicles
Bouncing Betty
Hand Grenade Helen
Front Line Francis
* * *
The Harley and Davidson Mystery Series
The Farmer’s Slaughter
A Tisket a Casket
I Saw Mommy Killing Santa Claus
Get Your Murder Running
Deceased and Desist
Malice in Wonderland
Tequila Mockingbird
Gone With the Sin
Grime and Punishment
Blazing Rattles
A Salt and Battery
Curl Up and Dye
First Comes Death Then Comes Marriage
Box Set 1
Box Set 2
Box Set 3
* * *
The Gravediggers
The Darkest Corner
Gone to Dust
Say No More