“Maybe you should lay back down. It doesn’t look as if you got any sleep last night. How much did you actually get?”
“A few hours,” Wren told her. “It doesn’t matter.” Shrugging, she headed to the door. “Come on, Ellie.”
With no other choice, the maid trailed after Wren. Shaking her head, she glanced back at the apple cores. She knew something was wrong, but what?
Hunter made it to his car an hour later. He didn’t know what to think about everything he had just heard, but he’d been given some ideas. Taking out his cell, he dialed the Chief Constable’s number.
“Helo?” a voice spoke.
“Chief?”
“Yes. Hunter?”
“Ie, it’s me. I’ve just found out some information you’re not going to believe.”
“Well, I have some information too.”
Surprised, Hunter pressed the phone to his ear as he started the engine. Turning on the wheel, he asked, “What information?”
“Hold on,” the chief said. “We’re being called out. Where are you?”
“Headed back to you. It’s about a three-hour drive.”
“Ddim yn dda,” the chief muttered.
“I know it’s no good, but I came to the princess’s school and learned an earful.”
“Well then, I’ll meet you at the station when you get back. I need to leave on this call. There’s been a murder.”
“Not connected?”
“I don’t think so. Gweld chi cyn bo hir,” he said, before hanging up.
“See you soon,” Hunter agreed, throwing the phone onto the passenger seat and picking up speed.
25
“I'm so glad you all were able to attend.”
“Our money?” Rubbing his eyes, he glared out of glassy orbs.
“Yes, yes. Here.” She tossed the envelopes to all four.
Hands reached up and out, caught them in midair and were ripped open within seconds.
“Okay, now we can talk business.” The sleepy one nodded at her.
She ran her eyes across her greatest idea. All four were exactly what she wanted after the last one had been shot while the other was in hiding. They played their part well. Everything was rolling in the right direction. Her rise to power.
One wiped his nose across his sleeve twice. Then, he dug out a tissue and blew. Watery-eyed, he slumped back against the wall after he'd caught, dropped, picked up, and looked through his envelope. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and sniffed.
The third one was sneezing. Still.
“Quiet. We can't risk anyone seeing us together. I need to go over the final part of the job. It will be rather difficult.”
“I can handle it.” The fourth puffed out his chest. “I know a million ways to kill someone. I can tell you the best places to send a shot, stab a knife, or --”
“I think you're confused, Doc. I know exactly where to stick a knife. In case you forgot, I stuck one in the king. Slid right in with a push. It was actually something like this.”
Knife glinting, slicing, grunting. Red blood coating the knife before sliding out.
“Oomph!” He was dead before he hit the ground. “Or maybe it was more like this.”
Before the other three could move, two knives were sticking out of their chests, and they were crashing to the ground. The fourth was being taken care of by the hidden shadow.
“Nice. You had to take Mr. Sneezy. I wanted him.” She pouted, coming up to the last assassin. “Just so I could end his infernal noise.”
“I thought it'd be best if I took care of him. I had a feeling you'd do it too slow.”
“You were all too happy to take him off my hands. Admit it, you were just as annoyed by the sniffer.”
“More than annoyed.”
“Well, the police will love this. Blood everywhere. Thankfully, there isn’t any on us.”
“Was killing them necessary?” he asked.
“Yes. They had a job to do, and they did it. Suspicion is being thrown elsewhere. The police don’t know what to think,” she said.
“The money?”
“Take it. You can have it all. You've earned it.”
“Your knife?”
“It's yours now. Hold onto it but put it in a safe hiding place. I think we've left enough of a trail. She's going to be accused. The police will have no choice with all the evidence. These bodies will just be more proof.”
“Nice arm, by the way. Clean through the heart. You've been practicing?”
“I love your enthusiasm. It's nice when one can have someone happy about their accomplishments. You’re lucky I’m not upset about the second shooting. I had hoped she’d be dead.”
“Good help really is hard to find. However, we did as you asked. It isn’t all lost.”
“Are you ready for the next phase of the plan?”
“I'm ready for it. Give me your coat.”
“What?”
“Just in case there's blood. I'll hide it away with the knife. You do trust me, right?”
“I trust no one. You're cute enough to deserve a chance. Besides, I like your use of a knife. Here. Hopefully, I won't freeze before I get home. Now, are you ready?”
“Absolutely. Kiss for luck?”
“Not on your life.” She shoved him back, before grabbing the lapels of his coat, and pulling him closer. “After this, if all goes well, then you can have that kiss.”
“I'll look forward to it.” He leaned closer, but she pushed him away.
“Now, watch the bodies. Make sure no one sees you.”
“Already gone.”
He was.
“Hmm, hmm, hmm,” she hummed on her way home.
26
“I’m over all of this. When are they going to figure things out?” Wren pushed the down button again. Then once more.
It was two days later, and the constable had agreed to give them escort to the Prime Minister’s offices. They had triple the security. Guards had been waiting for the them to enter and exit the building, which had been checked before they’d set one foot inside.
“Wren, taking your aggression out on the button isn't going to help.”
“Prime Minister Pedr is wonderful, Sybelle. I have always liked him, but I couldn’t stand his condescending tone today. He made it seem as though he thinks I'm guilty. Along with everyone else.”
They were to meet with him before a return visit to the station. After ascertaining new evidence, Chief Constable Hector wanted Wren to come for questioning and more statements.
PI Hunter and Mr. Gabriel were going to meet them there. PI Hunter’s own search into the shooter had come up empty. The second assassin was still at large. That news wasn’t the most devastating.
During their meeting with the Prime Minister, they had just received word of a lead. A tragic lead. Apparently, more bodies had turned up this morning. Four to be exact. The chief was certain they might have something to do with the burglary and assassination attempts.
They were each petty thieves and hired killers. He had some other news as well. He wouldn’t reveal it, but said it was vital they come to the station after their meeting with the Prime Minister.
“That's not true, Wren. The Prime Minister is standing behind us during this difficult time.”
“Then there were reporters shouting at me as we left the car and came in here, 'Hey, Princess! Why'd you kill your father?' That was a bit much.”
“I understand your anger--”
“Do you? Do you really?” Wren jammed her finger on the down button one more time, bending her finger too far back. “Ouch!”
“Acting like a five-year-old will result in self-injury.”
“Sybelle, I liked it better when we didn't talk.”
“Wren, I know you still don't like me. However, we must band together at this time. I don't believe you could have killed your father. So, at least pretend to be nice to me.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“N
ow why isn't this elevator moving? Does that phone work?” Wren pointed at the red button on the wall. She glanced up at the ceiling.
“I don't know.”
“Well, let's try it. Shall we?”
“Hello?” Wren picked up the receiver and pushed the red button.
“Yes?” A voice poured over the line.
“It works,” she whispered to Sybelle.
“Hi, yeah, the Queen and I are waiting inside the elevator. We just left the Prime Minister. The elevator won't move even though I've pushed the button more than once.”
“Let me look into the problem for you. Give me just a moment.”
“Thank you.”
As they waited, Sybelle began digging through her purse. Wren tapped her foot and crossed her arms. “What's going on? Why is it taking so long?”
“She said she'd look into it.” Sybelle reminded, took her cell phone out of her purse, and frowned at the screen.
“What’s wrong?” Wren wanted to know.
“I don’t think anything. Let me check this message.”
“Feel free. We’re going to be stuck here a few minutes it seems. At least it’s not stuffy.”
Sybelle nodded and looked away as she listened to the message. Shrugging, Wren held onto the phone and counted until she heard a voice.
“Princess?” One hundred twenty-seven seconds later.
“Yes?”
“I'm sorry to say this, but it looks as though there has been an order given for the elevator not to move until further notice. It seems there's a conflict on the first floor. Captain Ward has asked us to keep the elevator shut down until the conflict is resolved.
“What's the conflict?”
“Conflict?” Sybelle parroted. She held her phone in hand.
Wren noticed her wide eyes, half-open lips, and rapid breathing. Shaking her head, Wren waved a hand at her and listened.
“Yes. They have not revealed what the conflict is to me. My message to relay to you is to stay right where you are and not worry.”
“Tell Captain Ward we want answers now!”
“He said he'd report as soon as he could. We have the camera brought up now. You're safe.”
“Safe?”
Loud shots echoed throughout the elevator as if they were close by.
“What's going on--”
“Ydych chi yno?” Wren screamed into the phone. “Are you there?”
“Wren, what's happening?”
“There were gunshots. I can't hear the lady anymore. She said Captain Ward said there was a conflict on the first floor, and we were safer here. They wouldn't turn back on the elevator until it was clear.”
“Conflict? What could be happening?”
“I don’t know”
Swallowing, Wren turned to the camera. “Hello? Hello? Can you see me?”
She waved at the camera and jumped up and down. “We need help in here! We want out. Please get back on the phone and tell us what the conflict is. Hello? This can’t be happening again!” she screamed.
A grinding metal sound filled the compartment. The elevator jumped back and forth before a large bang above had them grabbing the handles along the side to stay up.
“What's going on?”
“What was that?” Sybelle threw out a hand and smacked Wren in the shoulder.
“I don't know. Hello!” Wren reached to pick up the phone she'd dropped when the elevator jerked her off balance. Talking into the receiver, she attempted to will the woman back on the line.
The elevator jerked into motion and began to descend as normal.
“What just happened?” Sybelle released the metal handle and smoothed her hair back into its bun.
“That's what I'd like to know. The woman still isn't coming back on the phone.”
“How do we know Captain Ward is sanctioning this descent then?”
“We don't. I guess we'll find out when we get out.”
The door swish open in front of them, and no one is there.
“Where are the guards?”
“I don't know. Captain Ward!” Wren stuck her head closer to the doors and peeked around, hitting the 'doors open' button on the elevator as she did so.
“Here!” Came the Captain's voice. His head popped around the corner next.
“Ahhh!” Sybelle threw a hand to her chest and took a deep breath.
“What is going on?” Wren stepped out, hitting the button again.
“There was a suspected shooter spotted. He got away, but the police are scouting the surrounding area now. We need to hurry to the limo. We have it parked right outside the doors now.” He directed them to the front of the house. The butler handed them their coats on their way out, his face creased with age and worry lines.
“Diolch,” Wren murmured before Ward shoved them both through the double front doors. The back door of the limo was open for them. They were rushed into the back seat, Ward slamming the door behind them, and the car shifting forward with a bump.
“Wait! Why didn't Ward get in the front seat? We left too quickly for him to have gotten in.” Sybelle reached over and jammed the speaker button. “Jackson? Jackson?”
Static filled the air.
“JACKSON!”
Sybelle reached over and shoved at the window. The separation of glass between them and the driver wouldn't roll down. “Jackson!” Beating on the glass, Sybelle continued to shout.
“Sybelle? Wh-what's going o-on?” Wren looked out the window at the landscape passing even faster now. “Sybelle? I don't think we're going home.”
Hands falling to the seat, Sybelle used it as a push-off to turn around and face Wren. Shaking her head, a grim smile tipping her lips, she slid down the seat.
The police sirens faded in the background.
The car picked up speed.
“No, Wren. We aren't going home.”
27
“What do you mean?” Wren whispered. Her head started to pound. THUMP- THUMP- THUMP, on cue. She blinked once, twice, three times.
“What's going on?”
“We aren't going to go home. There's no reason to, is there?”
“What do you mean? I don't understand. What's going on? Ow!”
Hand to her forehead, Wren tried to block the sharp stabs of a headache.
“Headache?” Sybelle asked.
“Yes. Sybelle, tell me what's going on here? You, you aren't in on this are you?”
“This kidnapping you mean?”
“Whatever this is? Oomph!”
The car took a sharp right, slamming them both into the side. Wren to the left, Sybelle to the right. “This car is taking us exactly where it wants to take us.”
“What? Jackson!” Wren attempted to call out to the driver. Her shout only resulted in the car picking up its pace and making a sharp left.
“Where are we going? Sybelle, are you doing this? Did you kill father?”
“Oh, Wren. Can't you just stop playing already? You know exactly what's going on.” Sybelle's lips turned down with a shake of her head. Her exhale was loud and forced. “I think it's time we come clean with each other.”
“At the risk of repeating myself: what? I don't understand what is happening here.”
“Yes, you do. We're being kidnapped.”
“I get that! What I don't understand is this cryptic conversation in which you keep telling me I know what's happening, when I don't know. I DON'T KNOW! What are you doing? Where are you taking us?”
“Wren, you know where we're going. You planned all of this. Stop playing. I know the truth. I found out just now. The phone call on the elevator? It was Mr. Gabriel. He called to tell me they found out some information about the assassins.”
“What? What about them?”
“The men the police found early this morning are hired killers. They work for money. Cash.”
“Okay, how is that news. Who killed them?”
“The cash was found. Not all of it. A portion of it fell under one of the bodies.”
“What do you mean?” Rubbing her temples, Wren looked through her black lashes at her stepmother.
“They traced the money. The police did. Do you know where the money came from, Wren?”
“N-no.” Blinking, Wren swallowed.
The car was going so fast, Wren couldn't focus on any one sign or building out the window. She couldn't see where they were headed.
Wren glanced at Sybelle and began to wonder if she'd be able to take the woman down if or when the time came. Lips pursed, her stepmother had crossed her arms in front of her chest, tilted her head, and set a steady stare on Wren.
“It came from my account, Wren. It was my money.”
28
Wren blinked, swallowed, and blinked again. Was she really hearing what she thought she was hearing? A confession?
“You killed my father? You killed him. You did it!”
“Oh, Wren. I gave you much more credit than this. You know the truth. I thought about it this morning. Who stood to gain? Who would want your father out of the way? Me?”
“I don’t know! You!” Wren wrapped both hands around her head. “Make them stop! Make this stop!”
“It will all stop soon. However, I think I have more to fear here than you. Don't I, Wren?”
“Stop speaking in riddles, you stupid woman!”
“Mr. Gilbert gave me a lot more news. He told me why you did it. I wish you would have said something, Wren. I wish your father and I would have known.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Wren, I know. I know it was you. Stop acting. Tell me. Tell me now. I can help you. Don't do whatever it is you're planning on doing right now. Please. Please. Tell the driver to stop. End this here and now. Tell ME the truth. Tell me, Wren. I know you did it.”
Sybelle stopped breathing.
Wren tightened her grip on her head.
They felt the shaking, back and forth, of the limo. The car screeched and slid around another corner, and then rammed forward, yanking them side to side, back and forth.
The Four Tales Page 67
