“Don’t let her lock us down here,” Harlan cried out.
Sidney looked back at the flames then ran past the burning aisle and toward the stairs. She ran up the stairs as the door was shutting before her. She didn’t slow despite the closing door. She couldn’t allow the door to close. They’d be locked in the burning basement. Sidney plowed into the door with her shoulder. The door flew open, and Ms. Palmer slammed into the opposing wall. Sidney aimed the gun at Persha and hesitated to pull the trigger. Ms. Palmer took advantage of her moment’s pause, lurched forward, and grabbed Sidney’s already bruised wrist. Both women fell against the wall just near the basement stairs. Sidney’s head hit the wall, dazing her. The gun flew from her hand and tumbled down the basement steps. She felt the pain surge through the back of her head and darkness swept past her. She fought the spinning room. The room once more brightened as she narrowly avoided unconsciousness.
Ms. Palmer pulled a gun from her jacket and aimed it at Sidney’s head. The back door cracked and splintered just a couple of feet away from them. It flew open and struck the doorstop with a crash as Lyle stood directly behind it. Ms. Palmer spun with surprise and fired at him. He attempted to leap out of the way but caught the slug in his shoulder. He clutched his shoulder as he struck the door, blood seeping through his fingers. He cast himself back outside to avoid the second, deadly shot. He’d given Sidney just enough time to get out of Ms. Palmer’s path. Sidney darted into the room to her left and slammed the door behind her while gasping to catch her breath. She could smell the smoke coming from the archives. She hoped Harlan got Mary out of the basement. The door vibrated against Sidney’s body, followed by Ms. Palmer’s psychotic scream. Sidney fumbled with the lock then bolted away from the door and looked around the dimly lit room.
She was in an old summer kitchen that was now used as an employee break room. There was a door just to the left of the room. Sidney ran for the door and flung it open. Ms. Palmer stood in the doorway and aimed the gun at Sidney’s head, forcing her to back into the room. Smoke detectors now wailed their shrill alarm, indicating the building was on fire. Sidney backed until she hit the wall behind her.
Ms. Palmer’s eyes were narrow and filled with hatred. “Why couldn’t you just let it go?” Persha demanded to know in a low tone. “I didn’t want to kill Mrs. Cooper, and I certainly don’t want to kill you, but you couldn’t let it go.”
Sidney’s breathing was harsh as she stared at the barrel of the handgun pointed only inches from her face.
“You were jealous of her,” Sidney gasped softly. “That’s why you murdered Emily Fisher. When Trisha refused to accept Alex was the killer and started poking around the murder, that’s when you tried to frame Billy.”
“Frame Billy?” she scoffed lowly with disgust in her eyes. “That oversexed boy had his own evil thoughts. Yes, I knew he wrote her that love letter and not Alec. I didn’t tell her because she needed to learn her lesson about men the hard way. When I arrived in the woods, Billy had beaten her and taken his letter from her while she cower like a dog on her hands and knees. Even after her ordeal, she still refused my love,” Ms. Palmer remarked with rage. “She was really better off dead. As for Billy, he needed to learn his lesson as well. That’s why I put an eleven on that rock. His jersey number. Except no one made the connection.” Ms. Palmer shook her head with disgust. “I thought that would be evidence enough against the little parasite. I was rather disappointed when they arrested Alec for her death because I wanted to see Billy punished for the way he treated women.”
Sidney could hear the hallway floorboards creak. “Number fourteen,” she announced boldly and tore her eyes away from the gun aimed at her to meet Ms. Palmer’s gaze.
Ms. Palmer glared at her. “What?”
“His jersey number was fourteen,” Sidney informed her. “Not eleven.”
The sprinklers came to life and showered them with water. Both jumped with surprise to the cold, foul-smelling water. Unfortunately, it didn’t ruin Ms. Palmer’s concentration.
“Sorry, Sidney, it’s nothing personal,” Ms. Palmer said above the hiss of the sprinklers.
“Drop it,” Harlan shouted gruffly from the doorway while holding the Magnum revolver in his hand.
Ms. Palmer didn’t move nor lower her gun aimed at Sidney’s face. Sidney could see Harlan holding her father’s .357 Magnum from where he stood just inside the room. Harlan inched his way across the room, keeping the large revolver steady with both hands while aimed directly at Persha Palmer. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He stopped halfway across the room to Sidney’s left side only about twenty feet away.
“I don’t think so, Harlan,” Ms. Palmer scoffed as the sprinklers soaked all three. “You miss and Sidney’s dead.”
“She’s dead no matter what I do,” Harlan snarled. “You shoot her, and you’re dead too. The only solution would be for you to drop the gun. You can’t escape.”
Ms. Palmer snorted softly and appeared humored. “I’d rather be dead then spend the rest of my life in prison.”
“Persha!” came a shrill, female cry.
Ms. Palmer glanced at the doorway to her left while keeping the gun on Sidney. Trisha stood in the doorway and clung to the frame to support herself. With the sprinkler water soaking her, Trisha was barely recognizable. Her usually wavy raven hair now hung straight and wet reaching beyond her shoulders.
Ms. Palmer’s eyes widened in panic. “Emily?” she gasped with a look of terror. “It can’t be! You’re dead!”
She became enraged, aimed the gun at Trisha, and fired without hesitation. Harlan simultaneously squeezed the trigger on the revolver. Gunshots echoed from both corners through the small room only muffled by the hissing sound of the sprinklers. Sidney screamed and crouched to the floor while covering her head, almost afraid to look. Ms. Palmer’s head snapped to the side from the impact of the .357 Magnum shell striking her temple, nearly exploding the side of her head. She was thrown to the floor with blood quickly pooling beneath her head, immediately washing away with the water from the sprinklers. Sidney gasped then bolted upright and looked at the doorway. Trisha hugged the doorframe with her forehead resting against it, and her eyes pinched closed. Trisha uncertainly opened her eyes and lifted her head. She looked at her body and felt for a gunshot wound, apparently surprised to be alive. Trisha hesitated then touched the splintered wood just inches from where her head had been.
“Oh, shit,” Trisha gasped.
Harlan allowed the large revolver to fall from his hands. It struck the floor with a loud clatter. Sidney straightened and stared at Persha Palmer as the sprinkler continued to wash her blood across the floor. Lyle stepped through the doorway and looked across the room with surprise while clinging to his bleeding shoulder. He looked at Harlan, who remained motionless with the gun at his feet, and then back at the dead woman. Sidney slipped past Ms. Palmer’s body and ran to Harlan. She threw her arms around his neck and clung to him. His arms tightened around her waist as he held her in his trembling arms. He drew a shaken breath.
“Are you all right?” he whispered into her neck, refusing to pull away.
“Thanks to your excellent aim and timing,” she practically gasped with relief then kissed him on the cheek.
He nervously pulled away from Sidney and gently rubbed his temple with a trembling hand. His eyes met hers with a look of fear. “I, uh, was aiming for her arm.”
Sidney’s eyes widened with a horrified expression.
Chapter Fifty-three
Sidney looked at the morning sky as she walked alongside Trisha toward the woods. Trisha had more strength this morning, and she appeared particularly happy while carrying her can of spray paint. They hadn’t spoken much since they met outside Trisha’s house.
“How’s your mother doing? I bet she’s tired of hospitals, huh?” Sidney asked while grinning knowingly.
Trisha laughed at the comment. “Yeah, but she’s being released today. It was just for an overnigh
t observation,” she remarked then eyed Sidney slyly. “But she did have some company.”
“Really?” Sidney asked with a curious look. “Who?”
“Mrs. Cooper.”
Sidney’s eyes widened. “Oh, no.”
“When Mrs. Cooper heard my mother was being admitted, she insisted they put her in her room.” Trisha laughed. “My mother was begging me not to leave her there. I’m glad Mrs. Cooper is feeling better. She’s back to her old self. She wanted to know all the gossip and had to tell her story nearly a hundred times of how Ms. Palmer tried to kill her in the library. We’re never going to hear the end of that one.”
They entered the woods and admired every tree they passed. The day felt like a blessing, and both were happy to be alive. When Sidney had enough of nature, she felt the need to pry into her friend’s personal life.
“So what did you and Lyle do all alone in your mother’s house last night?” Sidney asked while grinning deviously.
Trisha blushed and looked away, unable to control her radiant smile. “Use your imagination,” she announced then eyed her friend. “I had eight years of pent-up lust.”
Sidney laughed and shook her head. “I would have thought he’d be in too much pain after having stitches on his shoulder.”
“Remarkable how men forget about pain so quickly,” Trisha informed her while giggling. She inhaled deeply and sighed while looking around. “I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders.” Trisha then looked at Sidney and turned serious. “Lyle left the house early this morning. Where do you suppose he went so early?”
“I’m sure he’s with Harlan,” Sidney announced then frowned. “Harlan was a wreck last night after the shooting. He wouldn’t even stay at my parents’ house. He went back to his motel room around ten o’clock.” She shoved her hands in her pocket and sank into thought. “I hope he’s not too traumatized after shooting Ms. Palmer.”
“That’s ridiculous. He had no choice. It was either her or you.” She then reconsidered. “Actually it was her or me,” Trisha announced then suddenly eyed Sidney. “She tried to kill me, didn’t she?”
Sidney nodded and shivered at the thought. “I really thought you were a goner,” she remarked.
“Did she call me Emily?” Trisha then asked. “I think I was a little out of it, but I swore she called me Emily. Do you think she was insane?”
“I’ll tell you, for a moment there, I almost thought you were Emily standing in that doorway too. It was a little frightening.” She then looked at the can of white spray paint Trisha had in her hand. “What’s with the paint?”
“You’ll see,” Trisha said simply and offered a tiny smile. She then tilted her head as her concern returned. “You don’t suppose those two went home, do you? I mean, the murder has been solved. What’s to keep them hanging around here?”
“Well, us, I hope,” Sidney replied. “Harlan asked me to go to California with him.”
Trisha stopped Sidney just before the bridge and cocked her head to one side. “You’re leaving me?”
“I want to be with Harlan,” Sidney said gently then managed a timid smiled. “You can come to California with us. Lyle will be there.”
Trisha walked onto the bridge and looked around the surrounding woods. “This is my home,” she replied with a sigh. “There was a time when I wanted to leave so badly, but I wouldn’t be happy anywhere else. I have family and friends. I know everyone here.” She cast a look at Sidney. “You don’t have unity in a city, not like in a small town.”
Sidney lowered her head now feeling guilty. “I love Harlan,” she said gently. “He’d never live in this town.” She met Trisha’s gaze. “He hates it here. His job’s in California, and that’s where he wants to be.”
Trisha sighed and attempted to remain cheerful. “I’ll visit,” she assured her.
They hugged happily. Sidney was relieved. She didn’t want to lose her friend all over again. Trisha pulled away and raised her spray can.
“I have work to do.”
Sidney watched Trisha carry her spray can down the bank of the stream. She leaned on the bridge and watched her friend spray over the red lines on the rock with the white paint. When she was finished, the entire rock was white. Trisha straightened with a satisfied smile.
“Eight years ago, I painted those lines on that rock so I wouldn’t forget,” Trisha said and looked at Sidney on the bridge. “Emily Fisher has finally been laid to rest in my mind. They’ll review the case, Alex will be set free, and I’ll be able to sleep at night with a clear conscience.”
“Time to finally start living, right?”
“You can say that again,” Trisha replied and laughed.
They could hear voices approaching the bridge from the direction of town. When they turned, they saw Harlan and Lyle approaching, talking to each other and laughing. Trisha hurried onto the bridge as the men approached them. Harlan hugged Sidney and kissed her quickly on the lips.
She eyed him with some surprise. “I assume you’re feeling better,” Sidney said cheerfully.
Harlan nodded while holding her. “Much, thank you. We have the most fascinating news from the local gossip,” he announced. “It would seem the autopsy on Mrs. Randall showed she’d been given a massive dose of Thorazine which matched a bottle found in Billy’s medical bag. The coroner said she would never have been able to walk to the stairs on her own.” Harlan grinned with satisfaction. “Billy Randall confessed to killing his grandmother after the autopsy reports came back.”
Lyle placed his arm around Trisha and looked at Harlan and Sidney. “He even gave up some of the story on Emily Fisher after he’d found out Persha Palmer had killed her,” he informed them. “Billy approached Emily in the woods after he saw her having sex with Alex. They had a fight about his feelings for her.” He frowned and shook his head. “It happened just as Persha said. He beat her and left her by the bridge. He didn’t know Persha witnessed the entire incident. When he got home, he realized he was in trouble for beating his teacher. His grandmother called Sam, and they worked on a plan to keep Billy from going to jail. A couple of hours later, Alex was arrested at the tavern for the murder of Emily Fisher. They knew they couldn’t allow anyone to figure out Billy had beaten her, or he risked being accused of murdering her as well.”
Harlan eagerly jumped in when Lyle paused. “When Trisha started poking around in the murder case, Sam took it upon himself to protect Billy,” Harlan informed them. “He bribed Denny with drugs to help him kidnap Trisha and take her to the stone house. Billy claimed neither he nor his grandmother knew what Sam had done until it was too late. Mrs. Randall was so upset by what happened with Trisha; she was about to confess what really happened eight years ago. Billy wasn’t going to stand for a scandal, not with his status as a doctor on the line. He took advantage of his access to certain medication from the hospital, doped her, and threw her down the stairs.”
Sidney still couldn’t believe it and shook her head. “Amazing how some people think,” she practically gasped. “Not only has he lost his profession, but he’s going to jail for premeditated murder. Had he allowed the truth to come out, his career would have suffered for a while, but he’d still have his freedom.”
“What’s more,” Harlan remarked. “When they searched Persha’s house, they found a shoe box with photos of Emily cut apart and taped back together again. Some had threats and curses written on them. We’re talking creepy stalker stuff here.”
“So it was a crime of passion,” Trisha said then shook her head. “Just not as I had envisioned it though.”
“It’s over now,” Harlan announced and sighed. There was a brief pause then his look turned serious. “That was the good news. Now for the bad news.”
Lyle laughed and looked at Trisha while grinning. “I’ve decided to move to Marilina,” he announced cheerfully.
Trisha’s mouth fell open as she stared at him with disbelief. “You what?”
Lyle then looked at Harlan, who
frowned while hiding a tiny smile. “Harlan and I decided to buy Sam’s Tavern and go into business together.”
Sidney looked at Harlan with astonishment. “You? You’re planning to live here? I thought you hated this town?”
Harlan made a face and shrugged. “Lyle gave me little choice. I owed him for all the favors he did for me and for getting him stabbed,” he then hesitated and considered, “--and shot. I suppose between you and Lyle, Marilina can be tolerable.”
Sidney hugged and kissed Harlan with enthusiasm. “You are wonderful, Harlan.”
Harlan returned the hug and hid his grin. “Yeah, I know.” His smile then faded. “But we’re living outside of town,” he insisted. “Lyle’s going to live at the tavern for now, and we’ll need to find a place for my mother. She hated California anyway.”
“Your mother?” Sidney asked with surprise. “I had no idea your mother lived in the states.”
“You didn’t think I’d just leave her all alone in England, did you?” he practically demanded. “We’ll move her somewhere near Mrs. Cooper. They’ll have a lot to talk about. If there’s one thing my mother knows a lot about, it’s gossip. She’ll make Mrs. Cooper look like a saint.”
Trisha stared at Lyle and could barely contain her grin. “So why did you decide to buy Sam’s Tavern? You’d have more success with a bar in California.”
“It’s a charming town--when people aren’t killing one another,” he said with a soft laugh. “I grew up in a town similar to this one. I also thought I might pursue a relationship with a certain young librarian, and living here would make that a whole lot easier.”
Trisha smiled brightly and threw her arms around Lyle. “We can discuss relationships later. I’d really like to just have a wild affair for now.”
Lyle stared at Trisha with a surprised look in his eyes. “Well, I suppose that can be arranged.” He grabbed Trisha around the waist from behind and spun her in the direction of the development. He eyed Harlan and Sidney. “We’ll catch up with you later next week,” he announced simply.
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