Thyme for Love (Cooking Up Trouble Book 1)

by Pamela S. Meyers

“About time you woke up, Sleeping Beauty.”

  I hoisted myself onto my elbow, then pushed to a sitting position and stared in the direction of the falsetto voice. The single bulb hanging on a chain offered a little light, but I couldn’t turn far enough to see anyone. A few feet ahead, an old dinghy bobbed in a boat slip. Okay. I was in the boathouse. Why?

  A shadowy figure slid into view.

  “Who are you?” My voice sounded hollow.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He stepped closer, but thanks to his flannel shirt and baggy jeans I couldn’t make out his build. Shadows covered his face.

  He took another step toward me, and I stared at the red and white ski mask. I’d seen this dude before. On the back of a mower. A couple dots connected. Apparently he’d captured me.

  I surveyed the part of the boathouse I could see without turning my head. In all the times I’d been in the upper level porch, I’d never been below where boats were stored. I squared my shoulders the best I could. “You’re not going to get away with this.”

  Inside my pocket, my cell phone vibrated. I grunted and pulled at the bindings, hoping the sounds covered the buzzing.

  The man hefted a canvas duffle bag from the shadows and dropped it to the cement. “If you think your boyfriend’s gonna rescue you, think again. He’s a little busy.”

  He had to mean Marc. “You’re bluffing.”

  His evil high-pitched laugh sent shivers crawling down my spine. “Not hardly. You two thought you were so smart announcing to the world about your stakeout. Did you really think I’d show up and introduce myself so you could turn me in to that sorry excuse of a police chief?”

  He opened the duffle and stuck his hand inside.

  The rest of the dots connected. Had he done something to Marc before he clobbered me? How long had I been out?

  Please help me, God.

  Across the room, curse words filled the air.

  “Forget something?” I called out, surprised at my daring.

  “There she goes getting all nosy again.” He scrambled to his feet and held up a Hershey bar. “You’re gonna help me get that infernal bird down.”

  “What bird?”

  He waved the candy bar toward the ceiling. “Him.”

  Perched on a rafter above my head, Pedro returned my stare. He let out a squawk, then fluttered his wings and launched off, swooping within inches of the man’s head.

  The man swatted the air, the large sleeves of his flannel shirt flapping as if he had wings of his own. But, Pedro was already sitting on a crossbeam, chattering in celebration of his prowess. He charged the guy again, and made a perfect two-point landing on the man’s head. The cocky bird puffed his chest as though waiting for applause. Sadly, this wasn’t a show.

  Our captor wrapped his hands around Pedro’s body, his long fingers circling the bird like grappling hooks. I cringed. Pedro’s talons curled through the knit mask and into the man’s scalp. Cuss words filled the air, and the fingers straightened. Pedro took off for the crossbeam.

  I glared at the low-life. “Now you’ve got three offenses on your rap sheet.”

  “Huh?”

  “Murder, kidnapping, and birdnapping.”

  He ripped the brown wrapper off the candy. “Get him down and feed him this.” He held out the chocolate.

  A long ago conversation about parrots and chocolate filtered into my memory. This wasn’t Karl was it? Couldn’t be. His fingers were short and rough from his bull rope. This guy’s were long and smooth. “That’s poison to him.”

  “Better dead than alive.” He angled his masked head toward the rafters. “Get that no-account bird down.”

  I inhaled a breath of clammy air. Did he realize he forgot to fake his voice? “Why don’t you just leave me and Pedro here? Escape while you can.”

  “What do you take me for? Call the bird down.” The disguised voice was back, sounding like a shrieking demon in a horror movie.

  “I can do better with crackers.”

  “Use the candy.”

  “He won’t come for something he’s never tasted before. There’re some wheat crackers in my bag outside.”

  He came closer and grabbed me by both shoulders, his fingers digging in like claw hammers. I kept my scream bottled in my chest.

  Inside my pocket my phone vibrated, but he was too busy manhandling me away from the door to notice. “Stay here.”

  “Like I’m going anyplace?”

  The door slammed right before my cell phone chimed. One second sooner, and the dummy would’ve realized he hadn’t bothered to frisk me. I still had my phone and my knife.

  Thank you, God.

  I looked up at Pedro. How could I have messed up so much? The murderer had flown completely under the radar. We should have had Karl wait where he could see the boathouse, not in his workroom. How dumb was that?

  “Lord, I need Your help now more than ever—”

  The door whipped open, missing my shoulder by inches. He charged toward me. “You liar. There’s no crackers out there.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself. Good-bye world.

  He forced my chin upward with his hand.

  Hot garlic-laced breath hit my face, and my stomach heaved. Served the monster right if I barfed all over him.

  “Look at me,” he barked.

  I opened my eyes to his cold stare laser-beaming through the mask’s eye holes.

  “Call that bird down!”

  “Why don’t you just shoot him?”

  “Don’t like guns.”

  Pedro’s voice shot through the air. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “So it was you I saw that morning coming out of Rescaté.”

  “I’m smarter than that.” He turned abruptly and marched to the duffle. “Leaving this here should help point the finger at Thorne.” He reached in the bag and pulled out the gold and navy tie Marc had worn that morning.

  “How did you get that?”

  He uttered an evil chuckle. “Thorne’s habit of pulling off his tie came in handy. He never noticed when I swiped it from the meeting table this afternoon.”

  “It’ll take more than a tie to explain my death, Kendall.”

  His head snapped back. “Figured it out, did ya? Think you’re so smart, but you’ve just sealed your fate.” He gripped the mask with both fists and ripped it off.

  Seeing his ruddy face and the faded red hair spiking up like a punk rocker’s, I averted my eyes. Any other time I’d have laughed.

  “Dead women tell no tales,” he muttered. “Who’s gonna think that Kendall Montclaire, Rescaté Board President, would murder anyone? In a little more than an hour I’ll be enjoying drinks with my college buds, and you won’t be found for years. Perfect alibi, don’t you think? Same way I happened to be in New York when Galvez bought it.”

  The guy had to have help. But who? He could’ve been in cahoots with any of the women, I suspected, although none fit the picture. But Kendall as the killer didn’t fit either—until a few minutes ago.

  “I don’t know what you’re planning, Kendall, but kill me and the next minute I’ll be with God.”

  “Don’t start that religious mumbo jumbo with me.” He slam-dunked the chocolate to the ground. The bar skittered across the cement and dropped into the murky water. “Looks like the bird’s having a luckier day than you.”

  I closed my eyes and told God I was ready to die. A loud ripping sound came, and my eyes flew open as duct tape was slapped across my mouth.

  “I’ll have to hope Galvez didn’t plant information on that bird like he threatened.” He gripped my arm and jerked me to a standing position. “Let’s go.”

  I took a faltering step, feeling like I had leg irons wrapped around my ankles rather than rope bindings.

  One shuffling step at a time, I inched over the cement and stopped at the boat slip. The dingy looked as seaworthy as a leaf. He surely didn’t expect us to travel in that.

  “Jump.”

  Certain I w
ould crash through the vessel’s rickety bottom, I hesitated. He cursed, then climbed into the boat and yanked me onto one of the seats. He grabbed the duffle bag and dragged it over the side of the dingy. It hit the vessel’s bottom with a thud. The boat wobbled. Whatever was in that thing, it had to weigh a lot. A vision of cement blocks being attached to my legs crept into my mind.

  As Kendall pulled a black hood from the duffle, a loud crack of thunder shook the old building.

  “Perfect.” He dropped the shroud over my head. “Just perfect.”

  Chapter 47

  Up near the bow, Kendall tinkered with something. He must be certain Marc wasn’t going to show up or he wouldn’t be taking so much time. What had he done to my man? I bit back angry tears. The possibilities racing through my mind weren’t pleasant.

  The dinghy shuddered then righted itself. Kendall was back on the cement deck. Wasn’t he afraid someone would come? Had he left a trail of bodies on his way here? I pushed those thoughts from my mind and focused on one thing. Getting free. Kendall’s retreating footfalls faded toward the outside door. Another rumble of thunder, and the door slammed.

  I strained at the bindings, but they wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t have left me there for good. I had to break free before he returned. I pressed my wrists against the ropes.

  The large barn-like door to the lake rattled open and damp air buffeted my bare arms. Goosebumps erupted. What I wouldn’t give for my sweatshirt probably still neatly folded on the grass where I was sitting.

  A rumble of thunder shook the building and I startled. Was he crazy? Maybe he planned on sending me out to the middle of the lake alone. Maybe there was only enough gas to go so far. Maybe he hoped lightning would strike the boat and he’d win the gamble. But if it didn’t, I’d eventually drift toward shore. Strike the last “maybe.”

  Soon the boat wobbled and Kendall settled behind me next to the outboard motor.

  The engine sputtered to life then died.

  He grunted and another sputter came followed by a curse word. I imagined him yanking at the pull-start for the third time and prayed it wasn’t the charm. The outboard roared to life.

  Tears stung my eyes as everyone I loved came into my thoughts. Kitty with her twisted sayings. Mom with her kind words for everyone, even those she didn’t like. In his own way, Dad wanted only good for me. If I met my end in a watery grave, I’d never have the opportunity to come to peace with him. My brother Brian with his dimpled grin and good-natured attitude. And, of course, Marc, if he weren’t dead by now. Eight wasted years.

  The boat lurched and a stiff rain-drenched wind plastered the hood against my face. Kendall revved the tiny motor, and I felt the hull rise up as it pounded the swells. He was going with me, but where? Was his accomplice waiting on the other side of the lake with a getaway car? Did he have a hideout somewhere? I was no use to him alive, unless he planned to ask a ransom from Kitty. More comfortable than some her age, she wasn’t as well off as one might think. That I knew since Dad did her taxes every year.

  Take courage. It is I. Don’t be afraid.

  I had no idea where in the Bible those words came from, but it didn’t matter. God hadn’t deserted me. The boat slowed as an inboard motor came portside and reversed gears.

  A woman’s voice shouted out. “I was ready to head back to the dock. Why didn’t you answer your cell?”

  “I figured it was you,” Kendall shouted. “No time. Had to get out of there. Fussed over that bird too long.”

  “You don’t have your mask on.”

  “Got recognized. Doesn’t matter. She’s toast.”

  He brushed past me toward the bow. If he’d been alone I’d have pitched against him and sent him flying. The chick could have a gun.

  “Will this take long? The storm is getting worse. We’re prime targets out here for that lightning.”

  The voice, the voice. Who did it belong to? My mind raced over every woman I’d been in contact with the past couple of weeks.

  “It’s raining harder, sweetheart. Please hurry. You know I don’t like storms.”

  My stomach twisted. She didn’t like storms either when we were kids. What was LuAnn doing with this monster?

  A lightning flash exploded through the hood and LuAnn yelped. I thought Kendall would burst a blood vessel as he screamed an expletive and yelled at her to deal with it. I hunched over, letting the rain pound my back. If it were possible for bones to have goose bumps, mine did.

  “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” Kendall’s complaint came through the hood. “Wouldn’t be scared off by the missing pills or an attacking lawn mower. Couldn’t lead you to believe that Thorne was the killer. But that sorry excuse for a cop, Bronson, bought it.”

  A motor came to life, and Kendall uttered a wicked laugh. “This old dinghy’s gonna look like Swiss cheese.” The boat lifted and dropped as the aroma of fresh wood shavings hit my nose. My heart sank. The man was drilling holes in the boat.

  I pushed my right wrist against the bindings, and the knot slipped a bit. My pulse whipped into high gear. Kendall the sailor hadn’t finished off his knotting properly.

  “Sweetheart, the storm. Isn’t that enough?”

  I tensed. Had LuAnn noticed me messing with the ropes?

  My cell phone vibrated. Was Marc still alive?

  Please, God, let us have another chance.

  The vibrating halted as icy water lapped at the tops of my tennis shoes.

  “Won’t Marc be surprised when he finds out he’s never gonna see his happy cooker again. Two counts of capital murder should put him away for a long time.”

  My muffled cries disappeared into the duct tape. What did Kendall have against Marc? He didn’t deserve what this evil man had dumped on him. Surely God would intervene, even if I didn’t live to see it.

  “I figure you’ve got no more than five minutes.” Kendall’s voice came from a distance. He must have transferred to LuAnn’s boat. “Hit it, baby.” Her motor revved then faded off.

  I inched my hand toward my right pocket, and with my fingertips made out the pocket’s edge. Lightning sizzled nearby. I strained against the knot, and the rope gave way. I shook off the bindings, then loosened the cord from around my waist.

  Icy water hit my rear end.

  Have courage, it is I. Don’t be afraid.

  Gripping the hood in both hands, I yanked the thing off my head and let the rain wash my tears away. A lightning bolt zigzagged across the sky, and I rejoiced. I was alive—seeing, hearing, feeling. Frantic, I used the next flash of lightning to survey the lake. No sign of a boat. No sound of a motor. I dug my nails under the tape and yanked. Precious air filled my lungs, but I had no time to celebrate. The water had reached above the seat.

  I pulled out my pocketknife and popped the blade. My hands went numb as soon as I plunged them into the water and went to work, sawing at the cord around my ankles. The rope split, and the bindings fell apart.

  Over on shore, lights from Rescaté glimmered through the rain like a miniature house in a Christmas display. Next door, Kitty’s sunroom lights gleamed as bright.

  I took out my cell. Water dripped from its seams, but a faint light emanated from the screen. Thankful I’d left the phone on my favorites list, I pressed Marc’s name.

  “April. Where are—?”

  “Kendall tried to drown me. He may be on his way to Madison with LuAnn. I’m gonna swim for Aunt Kitty’s from the middle—” The connection dropped off and I hit redial. Dead. Better the phone than me. I threw the thing in the lake, took a deep breath, and jumped in.

  The frigid water squeezed the air out of my lungs. I held what little was left in there and listened. The thunder rumbled off to the east. If Kendall and LuAnn were still around, they’d cut the motor. Already numb to my bones, I turned toward shore and began to swim.

  Stroke, kick.

  Stroke, kick.

  My arms felt like a pair of medicine balls. I wanted to stop. But I couldn’t
. Not now. Marc was still alive and I had to live too. I swam a bit more then checked my bearings. Kitty’s house was off to my left at least half a mile, and I didn’t seem to be any closer to the shore. The current must have carried me.

  Have courage, it is I. Don’t be afraid.

  “I’m not afraid. But my courage could fill a tablespoon about now. All I want to do, Lord, is sleep. I’m so tired.”

  A motor’s hum came from the middle of the lake. Closer, louder, closer.

  A search beam skimmed the water’s surface. I raised my arm then jerked it down. What if it’s Kendall? I dove under the water and flutter kicked away. The shaft of light slithered over my head, the lake no longer my enemy but my protector.

  My lungs strained, and I broke the water’s surface and gulped in air. The awful light headed back my direction. I prepared to dive.

  “April! Mi caramela! Are you out there?”

  Marc?

  The beam hit my face and moved on. “Here. Marc, here I am.” The light reversed itself. Blinded by its welcome glow, I raised an arm. “Marc, I’m here. I’m here!”

  I swam toward the boat, arms working faster than a pair of propellers.

  “Hang on, April. We’re coming.”

  The inboard reversed its motors as it glided up beside me. I gripped Marc’s strong forearms and looked up into his wonderful face. “It’s about time you got here.”

  Chapter 48

  I climbed out of Kitty’s jetted tub and glanced at the crystal clock that sat on the vanity. Only ten-fifteen? It should at least be past midnight shouldn’t it?

  I pulled on sweats then reached for my make-up case. Staring at the jumble of bottles, brushes and eye shadows, I couldn’t motivate myself to move. It wasn’t as if Marc hadn’t already seen me at my worst. Like about an hour ago when he dragged me out of the water.

  I finger combed my curls into place all the while smiling at the memory of how after Marc pulled me into the patrol boat and wrapped me in a thermal blanket, I jabbered away, saying how Kendall thought he’d finished me off but I did him one better. Mark finally planted a kiss on my lips to shut me up, causing the sheriff at the controls to crack up. Nothing like a little levity in the midst of being left for dead. I flicked off the light and headed for downstairs.