Kilty Pack One
Page 50
“I’m not here to hurt you,” she called out.
Jessie straightened, shifting her knife to her opposite hand to keep it poised at Fiona’s throat. She tilted her head, mechanical in her precision.
Catriona’s skin crawled.
Oh no. Don’t start that stop-action horror film stuff.
Close enough now to see more detail, Catriona tried not to gape at Jessie’s ventriloquist dummy makeup. The dark lines on either side of her mouth, the white semi-circles beneath her eyes simulating the wide eyes of a doll, the woodgrain painted on her cheeks and forehead—any charm the little girl once possessed as a talking dummy had been stripped from this perverse replica. The blood smears on her face and clothing made the grotesque vision of Jessie Walker’s past glory all the more horrifying.
“Who are you, partner?”
The sing-song quality of Jessie’s voice contrasted with the ghastliness of her visage left Catriona momentarily speechless.
“I, uh, I’m Catriona.”
Catriona felt certain Jessie’s dismissal from Parasol Pictures had contributed to her mental break and feared mentioning her affiliation with the studio might further disturb the girl. She had to find a way to keep her talking and distract her from Fiona.
“Wow, you look amazing,” she said, walking forward, her hands still in the air. “Can I see that makeup? Did you do that yourself?”
Jessie’s cheek twitched and she laughed, loud and shrill. The sound might have been cute coming from the mouth of a little girl playing doll on her father’s lap, but as an adult splattered with gore, it stopped Catriona in her tracks.
“Makeup? This is just dirt from ropin’ and ridin’.”
Jessie’s mouth snapped open and closed in time with the words, but her lips and cheek muscles remained frozen. She flicked her head to the right towards Fiona. “I roped me a good one here.”
Fiona appeared in shock. Catriona could see how Jessie had cut her from the left corner of her mouth to her chin, simulating the hinges of her own painted dummy jaw.
The wound bled like any other head wound. Copiously. Catriona felt confident that without distraction, Jessie would have mirrored her carving on the opposite side to complete the effect.
Only a few feet from the foot of the stage, Catriona took another step forward. “You’re a real cowgirl? You rope and ride?”
Jessie’s attention snapped back to Catriona. “Can I? I’m Cassidy Cowgirl! That’s what I do best!”
Reaching the edge of the stage, Catriona stopped, unable to walk any farther.
What do I do now?
She felt helpless on the ground, the floor of the stage hovering at her chest. Jessie had the advantage of high ground. She could jump from there, lunge, or simply stay away. If she turned to stab Fiona, Catriona would never be able to scramble up onto the platform in time to stop her.
Glancing in Fiona’s direction, she spotted a flash of movement behind the actress.
Oh you big beautiful beast.
Broch had made his way to the side of the stage and now stood directly behind and below Fiona. The chair had been placed at the very edge of the stage and his hands were wrapped around the legs of it.
She understood. He planned to jerk the chair off the stage, moving Fiona from Jessie’s reach. But he couldn’t do it with the large knife still pressed against the actress’s throat. It was too risky.
Catriona smiled and locked her gaze on Jessie’s.
You’re right-handed. Please tell me I’m remembering this right...
“Hey Cassidy!” called Catriona, trying to make her own voice as light and childish as Jessie’s.
Jessie’s jaw dropped, the sides of her mouth curling ever-so slightly. A ventriloquist dummy version of a smile.
Not cute.
Catriona had never liked dolls before and she suspected after today she’d never be able to sit in a room with one again.
Here goes nothing.
“Cassidy, can you circle the wagons?”
Jessie’s eyes grew even wider. “Can I circle the wagons?”
Jessie’s right hand shot up in the air, her fingers still curled around the handle of the knife. She orbited it there, pantomiming an invisible lasso.
“Circle the wagons!”
The moment her hand left Fiona’s throat, Broch jerked the chair, sending it and Fiona tumbling off the side of the stage.
Fiona screamed.
Jessie spun, her expression twisting into confusion at Fiona’s disappearance. Spotting Broch, she froze.
“Drop the knife.”
Jessie turned back to Catriona. Catriona held her gun on her. She thought that should be enough to hold Jessie’s attention, but the girl’s gaze almost immediately shot up and over Catriona’s head.
“Drop the gun!” called a man’s voice.
Catriona glanced behind her. A police officer stood at the end of the aisle, his own gun raised. She recognized him as the officer they’d left behind at Walker’s house. He must have spotted the cars parked in front of the amusement park on his way home and stopped to investigate.
Jessie bolted left across the stage.
“Freeze! Drop it!” the cop’s gun followed Jessie’s path and then returned to Catriona.
Catriona held up her gun and then squat to place it on the ground.
“It’s me. From Walker’s place. She’s the one that left the burned body,” she screamed at the officer pointing after Jessie with her raised hand.
She stood. “I’m going to catch her.”
She turned and ran after Jessie, praying the cop didn’t fire.
“Freeze, both of you!” called the officer, but he didn’t shoot.
“O’er ‘ere! Ah hae an injured wummin!”
Catriona heard Broch’s roar, grateful the Highlander had thought to distract the officer.
Jessie reached the end of the stage, sliding in her cowboy boots as she prepared to jump over the edge. She paused long enough for Catriona to catch up, paralleling the girl from her position on the ground.
Catriona tackled Jessie as she slid off the edge of the stage, doing her best to keep her attention trained on the knife. As they tumbled, she grabbed Jessie’s wrist and held it pinned to the ground. The girl hit the ground chest-first with a great expelling of breath, giving Catriona the time to wrench her wrist behind her back.
Jessie screamed.
“Drop the knife!”
Jessie released the weapon and Catriona grabbed it with her opposite hand, tossing it away.
“I said freeze!”
Catriona turned. The officer stood a few feet from her, gun trained on her back.
“You remember me?” Catriona asked him.
He nodded. His eyes seemed frightened. She guessed he hadn’t been long on the job.
“Let go of me!” demanded Jessie, trying to rise. She wasn’t a large girl, and Catriona easily pushed her back to the ground. She pulled her arm a little tighter and the cowgirl howled in pain.
The officer holstered his gun and pulled his cuffs from his side. He took Jessie’s wrist from Catriona and cuffed her behind her back.
Jessie turned her head, revealing her face, and the officer gasped.
“I probably should have warned you about that,” mumbled Catriona.
The officer pulled his radio from his shoulder and called for help.
Epilogue
Catriona and Broch walked into Fiona’s hospital room, where she lay, eyes closed, a bandage wrapped around one side of her jaw. Her room was choked with flowers from well-wishers. A tall, floor-standing vase filled with three dozen four-foot roses stood like a sentry in the corner of the room. Drawn to it, Catriona smelled one of the roses and fingered the card, turning it so she might read it.
“Get well soon, Raven-girl, my love, Aaron,” she read aloud.
“That’s his nickname for me,” mumbled a voice.
Catriona turned to find Fiona staring at her.
“I doubt you’re supposed
to be talking. I thought with your face wrapped up I’d have a chance to get a word in edge-wise.”
Fiona chuckled and then grimaced as if in pain, hooking the left side of her mouth to murmur as best she could without moving the right. “One side’s fine.”
“Thanks to me.”
Fiona acquiesced with a nod. Her eyes shifted to Broch, who stared at her, his brow low.
“Hm. Remember me?” she asked.
He lifted his shirt to show her the scar on his abdomen. “I remember you.”
Catriona noticed the scar still appeared angry. She looked at Fiona, wondering if his proximity to her somehow aggravated it.
Catriona took a deep breath and prepared to launch into her speech about how she’d figured out Fiona’s wicked game and how she wasn’t going to put up with her meddling at the studio, but a tiny dark red dot on Broch’s face caught her eye, robbing her of her concentration.
Mesmerized, she walked toward him.
He spotted her staring at him and scowled.
“Whit is it?’
She reached up and touched his forehead where the scar that hopped over his eye, only to continue beneath it, began. Looking at her finger, she found it red and wet.
“Your scar is bleeding.”
“Whit?” Broch reached up and touched his own face with the same result. He stared at the dab of blood on his finger tip.
His gaze shot to Fiona. “Ye did this tae?”
Catriona turned to stare at her sister, awaiting her answer. It seemed Broch had also worked out that Fiona’s presence had an effect on the wounds she’d left on his body nearly two centuries earlier.
Fiona’s own eyes shifted to the left to stare past Broch to her doorway. Her eyes saucered.
Catriona followed her sister’s gaze to a tall, impossibly thin man standing in the hall. His eyes were such an icy blue they nearly appeared white. He wore long sleeves and a leather glove over one hand.
Broch turned and Catriona watched his jaw drop.
“Do you know him?” she asked.
Broch’s eyes grew wide.
“What?” Catriona turned to Fiona for answers.
The corners of Fiona’s eyes crinkled as if she were trying to smile.
“Hi, Dad.”
THE END
Look for the next Kilty novel coming soon!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amy specializes in fun, comedic reads about accident prone, easily distracted women with questionable taste in men.
So, autobiographies, mostly.
Amy is the former East Coast Editor of SURFER Magazine but the urge to drive up and down the coast interviewing surfers has long since left her. She is a nerd who works at home with her goofy husband.
Other Books by Amy Vansant
Pineapple Port Mysteries
Funny, clean mysteries full of unforgettable characters
Pineapple Lies (I) Pineapple Mystery Box (II)
Pineapple Puzzles (III) Pineapple Land War (IV)
Pineapple Beach House (V) Pineapple Disco (VI)
Kilty Romantic Comedy/Thrillers
Funny, suspenseful romances with a touch of time-travel
Kilty as Charged (I) Kilty Conscience (II) Kilty Mind (III)
Angeli Urban Fantasy
Thrilling adventures with a touch of romantic comedy
Angeli (I) Cherubim (II) Varymor (III)
Slightly Romantic Comedies
New Adult/Adult zany romantic romps
Slightly Stalky (I) Slightly Sweaty (II)
The Magicatory (middle-grade fantasy)
Moms are Nuts (editor: humor anthology)
The Surfer’s Guide to Florida (non-fiction: out of print)