She opened the hood, and her heart plummeted as she saw the sharp edges of severed wires that led to the battery. Someone had deliberately cut them and that fact made her feel vulnerable and afraid and very alone. She’d thought she was safe here, hidden away and protected in this small community. Now it was clear that nowhere was safe and that this must have been deliberately done.
Had her ex-employer in France managed to locate her? Cassie wondered whether this was the start of a twisted revenge game, or something worse. Disabling her car was a way of ensuring she couldn’t disappear on short notice, which might mean he had other plans in store.
Cassie was suddenly desperate to speak to Ryan, to tell him what had happened and to hear his reassuring voice. She rooted in her purse for a minute before remembering she hadn’t brought her phone with her. The battery had been about to die so she’d left it plugged into her charger, ready for when the power came back.
“Damn it,” she shouted, slamming the hood in frustration. With no way of contacting him to explain her predicament, she was going to have to walk.
She yanked her keys out of the ignition and took her purse, and the hardware store bag, from the seat. Then she locked it, wishing bitterly she’d thought to do that before going into the store.
Cassie stomped out of the parking lot and headed toward the narrow lane which—two long miles later—would lead back to the house.
While walking, she found herself worrying about who could have wanted to sabotage her car this way.
There were only two options she could think of. Either it was random vandalism or else somebody had been following her and waiting for the opportunity.
Cassie hoped it had been random vandalism because the alternative, that she’d been targeted, was terrifying. She didn’t want to think about how or why this might have happened.
She’d thought nobody could find her here. What if somebody had?
Wrapped in her disturbing thoughts, Cassie heard the loud rev of an engine behind her.
Her first thought was that this person could maybe offer her a ride home.
A heartbeat later her instincts started screaming.
Too fast, too close, too loud.
The roar of the engine was directly behind her.
Twisting round, she saw the grille, accelerating fast.
She dove sideways, crushing against the prickly bulk of the hedge.
The car shot past, so close that it brushed the leafy shoots growing from the hedge. So close that when Cassie looked down she saw the muddy tire track was only a few inches from where her foot had been.
One of the branches had scratched her hand and she stared down at the tattered line of blood welling from her skin. The hardware store bag had been torn. Looking down, she saw her jeans were spattered with mud and fragments of grass.
If she hadn’t jumped into the hedge, she would have been hit.
Cassie realized she was shaking.
She stared down at the tire track and looked back. She could see the exact spot where the car had swerved off the tarmac and crushed the muddy grass by the hedge. The tracks followed a perfect curve. Off the tarmac, over the grass, and back to the road again.
She had been at the furthest point of the curve.
“What the hell?” she said aloud.
The letters FRZ, or had it been FZR? In her panic she couldn’t remember their exact order. A white, low-slung car with a registration including the letters F, Z, and R had almost run her down.
If she hadn’t dived out of the way, that car would have hit her. Smashed her legs, ridden over her, who knew?
If this was also deliberate, then she was in serious trouble now. In the space of an hour, someone had disabled her car and then tried to kill her as she walked home. If her ex-employer was behind this, she had no idea what she would do about it, or where she could hide.
Cassie continued walking, but every few steps she glanced behind her, terrified.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
By the time Cassie reached home, stressed and scared and worried that she would make the family late for the play, she was on the point of tears.
As she reached the front door, Ryan opened it. He was wearing a dress shirt and chinos, ready to go, and Cassie realized how disheveled she must look.
“Hello, gorgeous. Glad to see you. I was starting to worry where you were.”
He glanced outside at the empty road. “Where’s your car?”
“It’s at the hardware store. Ryan, it wouldn’t start, and when I opened the hood, I found it was already open and I could see wires had been cut inside.”
“What?” His voice was incredulous.
“Yes.” Cassie’s breathing was morphing into sobs.
“You think someone did it deliberately? The wires couldn’t just have snapped?”
“They were cut. And the engine wouldn’t even turn over. The only sound was the click of the key.”
Ryan shook his head.
“That’s unacceptable. Do you want to report it? We probably should.”
That mention of police again. Cassie felt nervous.
“I doubt they could do anything and I have no proof.”
Cassie didn’t want to tell him that she feared her ex-employer might be behind this. It would complicate the situation and might cause Ryan to mistrust her. Even so, Ryan had to know everything that had happened.
“Then, when I was walking back, a driver behind me swerved into my path and almost hit me. I jumped aside just in time. The tire marks were on the grass. I scratched myself on the hedge.”
“Cassie, this is terrible. I’m so sorry.”
Ryan enfolded her in his arms, holding her close.
“I feel personally responsible. I feel like we—our community—should have done better for you.”
“Don’t worry, Ryan.”
His words sounded so heartfelt that Cassie found herself laughing even though she was tearful.
“It definitely wasn’t your fault!”
“All the same, I can help to make amends. I’m going to call our local mechanic, Dave Sidley, who runs Dave’s Auto Repairs. He can tow your car to his workshop and get it fixed. I’ll ask him to ensure it’s in perfect working order. That, at least, we can do immediately. I’ll get on the phone to him straight away. Give me your keys.”
Cassie handed them to him.
“As regards the swerving incident, it is very common. Drivers unfamiliar with this area don’t understand how narrow our roads are. A moment of distraction and you’re in the hedge. I can’t tell you how often it happens. So don’t worry about that. I am sure that’s what it was. You shouldn’t have walked back. Why didn’t you call me?”
“My phone was about to die, so I left it here.”
Ryan sighed, gently releasing her from his arms.
“Of course. That damned storm. Power was restored half an hour ago so we’re up and running again now.”
He stared at her, his face serious.
“Cassie, please don’t be scared. I can see how upset you are. I will look after you, I promise. I will not let anything like this happen to you again. Not while you are here, with my family, in my home and under my care.”
Cassie was reassured by his words, and by his calm analysis of the situation, which made her feel less vulnerable. Perhaps the swerving had been accidental after all.
She remembered the reason for her outing and handed him the bag.
“They didn’t have traps. They were only getting stock this week, so I bought poison.”
“Oh, dear. It will be better to wait for new stock. I don’t like using poison as it can affect the entire food chain. We can exchange it for traps during the week. Now, you’d better get yourself ready. We’ve got a play to attend.”
Cassie rushed inside to get changed, and as soon as she was dressed, the family was ready to leave.
Ryan was uncharacteristically quiet on the drive to the theater, and Cassie wondered if he was nervous. Both the children
had important roles, and it was the first time they were participating in something like this.
When they arrived, Ryan headed around to the back of the theater, where the backstage entrance was.
“If everyone gets out here, I’ll go and park. Cassie, do you want to go in with the kids, in case they need help?”
Cassie noticed that Madison was looking pale, and had been much less talkative than usual on the drive. She suspected the young girl was having last-minute nerves about appearing on stage, and decided to go in with her.
“I’ll catch up with you in the foyer,” she said to Ryan.
When they arrived at the dressing room, she was greeted by a harassed-looking teacher.
“Our makeup artist is running behind. Would you be able to give us a hand?”
“Sure,” Cassie agreed. “I don’t have much experience in stage makeup, so tell me what you need.”
“The brighter, the better. Go overboard,” the teacher encouraged her.
Dylan sat down on the chair in front of the mirror, and she thought it was the first time she’d seen him look unsure.
“You’ll be fine,” Cassie reassured him. “Let’s think about what a factory worker would look like and I’ll do my best.”
Madison stood quietly, offering no suggestions, which troubled Cassie even more. She’d been sure that Madison would have plenty to say.
“Dirty. Dusty,” Dylan ventured.
“OK, so we’ll make a big dirty mark on your cheek. And how about your hair? We can gel it to make it look wild.”
“Hey, I also want a tattoo,” Dylan said, and Cassie saw Madison give the tiniest smile before relapsing into seriousness.
“I’ll draw a tattoo on your neck,” she said.
After she’d accentuated his eyes and cheeks, and created a realistic-looking smudge, Cassie drew a tattoo with eyebrow pencil. Then she mixed gel with water and spiked up his hair.
“Hey, I look really cool,” Dylan said delightedly. He seemed to have forgotten his nerves. “Thank you, Cassie.”
“I’d hire you in my factory if I had one. Now you’d better hurry and get dressed. Maddie, it’s your turn. What do you want to look like?”
Madison sat down but she shrugged, refusing to look at herself in the mirror.
“Freckles, maybe? Do you want curls?” Cassie suggested, feeling more and more anxious.
Madison shook her head.
“What’s the matter?” Cassie asked gently, staring at Madison’s reflection in the brightly lit glass.
“I don’t want to be in the play,” Madison said, and burst into tears.
“Madison!”
Horrified, Cassie grabbed a handful of Kleenex from the box in the makeup kit.
“Maddie, why not?”
Madison shook her head without answering, and Cassie guessed it could only be nerves. Hastily she tried to distract her from them and allay her fears.
“Remember how you enjoyed rehearsals, and how you couldn’t stop talking about how much fun it was? You know all your lines perfectly and if you forget, your drama teacher is there to prompt you like you explained to me.”
“It’s not that,” Madison sobbed.
“What is it?” Cassie hunkered down so that she was on a level with Madison rather than standing above her.
“I didn’t get good enough marks to do the play.”
Cassie frowned, taken aback by this argument.
“How do you mean? The play has nothing to do with marks. You got the part when you auditioned. You told me how you were chosen.”
“I should never have done it. I should have told them that I couldn’t, and that another girl should take my place. We still can, Cassie, let’s go find a teacher and explain.”
Cassie stared at her in confusion. This must be nerves. There was nothing else it could be.
“You’re the best person for the part. This is as important as good marks in math.”
“You think so?” Madison asked, her voice filled with doubt.
“Absolutely,” Cassie said, hoping she wasn’t contradicting anything Ryan might have said in the past.
“Math is useful, sure, but your phone has a calculator. And computers can do a lot of sums. There are computer programs that add things up and you just need to know how to work the program.”
“OK.” Madison was regarding her with the glimmerings of hope.
“But you know what is difficult and not everyone can do?”
“What’s that?”
“Performing on stage. Not everyone has the talent or the ability for that. Now you have to prove yourself by going out there and wowing the audience.”
“I won’t get into trouble?”
Cassie squeezed her hand, wishing she could get inside the young girl’s head and understand her fears better, because her words were very confusing.
“Absolutely not. Remember, if you feel unsure, look at your drama teacher, and she’ll help you.”
Cassie wiped Madison’s eyes gently.
“Are you feeling better now?”
“I guess so.”
“So how shall we make you up? Do you think a spoiled girl would have curls in her hair, and maybe we can draw some cute freckles on your face?”
“OK.”
Using the hair gel with a blow dryer, Cassie managed to create some curls in Madison’s thick brown hair, and drew large freckles on her cheeks and nose. She painted her lips bright pink and drew eyeliner around her eyes and brows for an exaggerated effect, hoping Madison wouldn’t start crying again or her face would be a mess.
Dylan strolled back in, wearing the torn overalls that was his costume.
“You look one hundred percent the part,” he complimented his sister, and Maddie gave a shaky smile.
It was time for her to leave. The teacher was hurrying over, holding the sparkly dress that would go perfectly with the makeup she’d just applied.
“Good luck to both of you,” Cassie said.
But Dylan shook his head. “For plays, you’re not supposed to say that. You’re supposed to say ‘Break a leg.’”
“Why’s that?” Cassie asked, surprised.
“It’s because it is the worst thing that could possibly happen to you. So actors wish it to each other and then because you have said it out loud, it won’t happen.”
“So it’s a superstition. Well, break a leg, Dylan. Break a leg, Madison. And enjoy it.”
Cassie made her way out of the makeup room, which was now crowded with actors and filled with the babble of excited voices.
Ryan was waiting outside the theater door, and they hurried to take their seats.
Seated in the front row of the auditorium, Cassie started growing even more anxious about Madison’s behavior earlier.
“Ryan, did anyone tell Madison she wouldn’t be able to do the play if her marks weren’t good enough?” she whispered.
Ryan frowned. “I don’t think so. Surely a teacher wouldn’t do that? Her marks haven’t been that bad.”
“She didn’t want to go on stage. I thought maybe it was nerves, but it sounds like there’s a genuine reason.”
Ryan shook his head.
“Perhaps she misunderstood the situation. I did tell her that doing the play was an extra activity and mustn’t interfere with her schoolwork.”
Cassie wasn’t convinced, but then remembered that Madison was only nine, and might have misinterpreted what she’d been told.
“That might be it. I hope she’ll be OK once the curtain goes up.”
“I hope so, too,” Ryan said.
In a few more minutes the hall was full, and it was time for the performance to start.
In the dark, Ryan’s hand found hers.
The words “Break a leg” kept repeating themselves in her mind as the curtain rose. She hoped that the worst would not happen, and wished she’d been able to stay with Madison longer to ensure she was back to her normal self.
Her worry increased when Madison walked onto stag
e.
Cassie could see immediately, from the young girl’s body language, that she was unhappy and didn’t want to be there. Madison glanced at the audience, her eyes narrowed against the bright lights, and then looked down.
“No, Madison,” Cassie whispered soundlessly. “Don’t give up on it. You can do this.”
Then it was her moment to speak, and in the play, her first lines couldn’t be easier. All she had to do was introduce herself and say, “I’m Veruca Salt.”
But Madison said nothing, and the silence stretched on and on, every moment filling Cassie with greater fear.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cassie could see Madison’s drama teacher waving anxiously from below the stage, ready to help the young girl with her cue. Madison wasn’t looking at her. Instead, she raised her head again and stared at the audience, as if taking in the entire hall.
Cassie could hear concerned murmurs from around her. People had realized this silence had gone on too long. She wished she knew what to do, but short of running onto stage and holding her hand, she felt utterly helpless.
“Go, Madison,” she heard Ryan whisper.
Then it was as if Madison reached a decision that this was all OK. Cassie saw, with pride and relief filling her, how the young girl lifted her chin and summoned her confidence from deep inside herself.
“Well, Mr. Wonka. I’m…” she began, and surveyed the crowd, aware of the tension her pause had created.
“Veruca Salt,” she finished, spitting the words out in a haughty tone, with an arrogant shake of her curly head.
The audience erupted into delighted applause.
From that moment, Madison aced her performance. Word-perfect and on cue, she epitomized the spoiled brat she was playing. Especially after her nerve-racking crisis at the start, she was the star of the show whenever she spoke. Cassie’s heart swelled with pride.
Dylan, running on stage during the scene changes, showed more of a sense of humor than Cassie had thought he possessed, and seemed to feed off the audience’s energy to embrace his role. She could tell how delighted Ryan was, because every time the audience laughed, his hand tightened involuntarily in hers.
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