Apparently that made sense to Scooter, who nodded. “No more of that, girlie,” he said. “Christmas or no Christmas, I will slug you next time.” He stood. “Let’s get her inside and let Quintin figure out what to do with her.”
Craig nodded, trying to help Kat to her feet. She wasn’t particularly cooperative.
“What the hell is going on out there?” Quintin yelled from the house.
“We got a girl!” Scooter cried out. “A wild one. The older kid’s got a twin, and I think this is her.”
“Tell the wild one to come along nice and quiet or Mom gets it.”
Craig saw Kat’s shoulders slump. Saw the utter despair and desolation darkening the emerald beauty of her eyes.
“Let’s go,” he said curtly.
Inwardly, he trembled and wondered how they would manage to get through the night, if there had been truth, a premonition, in that vision of her hair spread out…
Like blood on the snow.
Lionel Hudson was dead from a single bullet between the eyes.
Sheila kept feeling the sting of tears against her eyelids. Lionel had lived his years as a good man, a fair man, always ready to help others. And now he was dead.
Executed.
She raged against the idea. She didn’t even feel the snow against her cheeks or the bite of the cold through her clothing.
Tim laid an arm around her shoulders. “Sheila.”
“Yeah?”
“You said he had cancer.”
“Yeah.”
He inhaled deeply. “I’ve seen people die of cancer. It can be slow and painful.”
She looked at him, enraged. “So this is better?”
“I’m just telling you that he’s beyond pain now.”
She swallowed, shaking her head. Beyond all pain.
A bitter wave of anguish seized her, and she almost laughed out loud.
“Sheila.”
“Yeah?”
“Whoever did this is still out there.”
She nodded, still feeling numb.
“Sheila, that other message came from just a few miles from here. Right?”
She nodded.
“I think that’s where our killer is.”
Again, she nodded. “We need some major help here. Like a swat team from Springfield.”
“We don’t have help. We have you, and we have me.”
“Tim, if the man who killed Lionel—”
“I’d say it was two men. Maybe even three. The way he was dragged out here…don’t think one man could have done it.”
“Okay, so if these men are in the O’Boyle place…we have to be careful. They’ve already killed once. They’ll kill again without a thought.”
Tim nodded. “Maybe…” He looked away.
She frowned, her knees threatening to buckle. “Maybe they’re already dead,” she said, finishing the thought he couldn’t voice.
He shrugged unhappily, not meeting her eyes.
“All right. We’ve got to get over there as fast as we can.”
“And then…?”
“We’ll figure that out when we get there.”
Quintin was furious, and Craig had never felt more afraid in his entire life.
When they reached the house, Quintin stared at Kat in fury, but he didn’t touch her. Instead, he backhanded David with a vengeance. Skyler screamed in protest, but she’d already raced forward to grab her daughter.
The others started to move.
Oh God, this was it, Craig thought. The bullets and the blood would start now.
“Wait!” he cried, stepping forward.
But David was just as set against a bloodbath. “Stop, everyone…everyone just calm down. Please!”
“You knew she was out there!” Quintin raged, looking at David first, then swinging around to stare accusingly at the rest of the family. “You all did.”
Frazier replied, his tone like ice, “We thought she was dead already. In the storm,” he said flatly.
Quintin, waving his gun wildly, paced the foyer. “You know, I tried. I really tried. But you people don’t learn. I’m going to have to kill one of you.”
“No!” Skyler screamed.
“Come on, Quintin, if you kill anyone, we can’t have Christmas,” Craig said.
“Quintin,” Scooter seconded quickly. “Calm down. We’ve got the girl. And even if we hadn’t gotten her, where the hell could she have gone in this? Come on, no real harm done.”
He actually smiled at Kat, as if she might be grateful. As if she might actually like him for buying time. Craig forced himself to keep still.
“You’re all a pack of liars!” Quintin accused, and aimed the gun at David. “Liars.”
Craig looked around, afraid someone would make a move and bring down hell. The tension in the room was palpable. “Please, Quintin,” he said. “We caught the girl.”
“Craig got her,” Scooter said.
Quintin glanced at Craig, who stared back expressionlessly.
“Please,” Skyler murmured, and walked toward Quintin. “I swear to you, Kat is our only other child. No one knows you’re here. And you’re an intelligent man. You can’t blame us for wanting to hide her.”
“And she didn’t try to attack us or anything,” Craig said. “She was just trying to run away.”
There was silence.
Still explosive.
Tension still so thick in the air it could be cut by a knife.
If Quintin started shooting, what should he do? Craig wondered. Throw himself on the man and pray he could disarm him before getting killed, and that someone else could overpower Scooter before too many of the others died, as well?
“I need a drink,” Paddy announced firmly into the silence.
“Yes,” Skyler said, white as the snow, her features stretched more tightly than the wires of her piano. “Please, let’s all calm down. It’s late. But we…we’ve actually had a good day. We had a nice meal, music, a fun game. We…we have Christmas tomorrow. The snow will stop, the roads will clear, and you can escape. For now…let’s have a drink.”
Paddy turned and started for the kitchen.
“Hey, Mick!” Quintin thundered.
Paddy turned to him, arching a brow.
“No one goes anywhere alone.”
Ignoring Quintin, the old man turned away and started walking again.
Craig caught Paddy’s eyes. It was an act, he realized. The old man was terrified and playing for time.
“A drink sounds good to me, Quintin,” Craig said. “I think I’ve still got a fever, and it was freezing out there. I need something to warm me up.”
“All right. A drink,” Quintin said after a long moment. “But we tie up the father first.”
David’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t move.
“Where’s there some rope in this place?” Quintin said, turning to Frazier.
“Dad, have we got any rope anywhere?”
“What kind of criminals forget rope?” Jamie muttered, sounding every inch the quintessential sulky teen.
Scooter actually laughed. Quintin cast him a venomous glare.
“You have my wife, my daughter, my sons, an innocent girl who’s here as a guest and my wife’s uncle. What do you think I’m going to do?” David demanded, sounding not just exhausted, but beaten.
Craig caught David O’Boyle looking at him with what seemed to be mistrust.
Well, as Scooter had said, he’d been the one to bring Kat down. That was important. Quintin had to believe in him, even if it meant that David might not.
“Everybody into the kitchen,” Quintin said. “Even you, Dad. Fuck!” He swore with no apology. “There’s got to be rope around here somewhere. We’re not settling down for a warm winter’s night until we find some rope.”
Skyler didn’t appear to be ready to let her daughter go, Craig noticed. She was still arm in arm with Kat as they went through the swinging door to the kitchen. “Give me this parka—it’s soaked,” she told her daugh
ter.
As if a soaked parka mattered when there were men with guns in the house, he thought dryly.
But Kat slipped off the parka. “Mom, can you make me a hot toddy?”
“Yes, certainly. We don’t want you catching your death of cold.”
Her words hung strangely in the air.
Skyler, still white and stricken, turned to the stove. Craig watched her face as she picked up the kettle, moved the few feet to the sink and started to fill it. He could actually see her thought process. He knew she was longing to bring the water to a full boil and throw it in his face.
He decided to keep his distance.
“There was no chair for you when we got here, so I guess you weren’t invited to the family dinner, huh?” Scooter asked Kat. “Why not? Were you bad?” His tone had an awkward flirty note to it that Craig found alarming.
“We miscounted,” Jamie said.
“See? You miscounted, and we don’t have rope. Everyone screws up,” Scooter said.
“We didn’t screw up,” Quintin said. “We just didn’t expect to be part of a group for so long.”
It was a warning. They all knew it.
Quintin’s mood was teetering at the edge of madness, Craig thought. The arrival of Kat O’Boyle had shaken him.
“It was cold out there. I would love a hot toddy, too, please,” Craig said, to cut the tension.
The glance Skyler shot him was not forgiving.
Good God, couldn’t anyone see? If he hadn’t tackled her, Scooter would have killed her.
Or maybe they did see. Maybe they couldn’t help but put up a wall against anyone who wasn’t one of them.
“Hey, it’s eleven forty-five,” Scooter said. “Christmas in fifteen minutes.”
“Kat…are you hurt?” Brenda asked softly.
“No, I’m fine, thanks, Brenda. Just cold.”
“Brenda is great at Trivial Pursuit,” Jamie said out of nowhere.
No, not out of nowhere, Craig realized. The kid was trying to diffuse the tension and get back to where they had been before Kat was discovered, when things had been calmer, easier.
“I’m not surprised. She’s a straight-A student, right?” Kat said, smiling at Brenda and glancing toward her brother.
“I can’t even hum ‘Yankee Doodle,’ though,” Brenda said.
The petite little blonde was gaining in the strength department. She had looked shell-shocked for so long. Now…
She might actually be one of the calmest members of the group.
“Mrs. O’Boyle, would you mind bringing out some of those cookies you made earlier?” Brenda asked.
Quintin stepped forward. “Everyone sit.”
“It’s difficult to make drinks and get cookies if I’m sitting down,” Skyler said.
“Don’t be a wiseass,” Quintin said, but the tension in him seemed to have eased down a notch. “You do the drinks.”
“How about I get the cookies?” Kat suggested.
Quintin scowled at her. “You shouldn’t be allowed to have any.”
“But…you wouldn’t expect me to be stupid, would you?” Kat asked him. “I’m sure if it had been you, you would have hidden, too.”
He stared at her, then nodded. “Yeah, and I’d have gotten away, too. Now forget the cookies and everybody sit.”
They sat at the table, as ordered, and Skyler started handing out the toddies.
“Don’t forget me,” Jamie said.
His mother paused.
“Go ahead and give him one. Maybe he can get some sleep before…before Santa comes,” David said dryly.
“Presents!” Scooter said excitedly, then looked oddly at Quintin. “Except we don’t really live here.”
“We always have extra presents,” Skyler said.
Scooter grinned, and everyone started to drink, the tension easing into the background under an onslaught of hot whiskey.
And then the doorbell rang, and as quickly as that, the tension was back.
NINE
Skyler barely held back a scream.
Kat could see her mother’s struggle and pleaded silently, No, Mom, no! Don’t scream. It will be a bloodbath.
Quintin jumped up as if he were on springs, his gun at the ready and aimed at each of them in turn. He stared at David. “Who the hell is that?”
“I don’t know,” David said.
“Like you didn’t know your daughter was running around outside, right?”
“I swear to God,” David said quietly. “I don’t know who it is. No one else was invited over, and it’s ridiculously late. We should just ignore it.”
“Right. Ignore it,” Craig agreed.
Quintin shook his head. “It’s the cops.”
“Yeah, the cops,” Scooter echoed, frowning.
Quintin turned to glare accusingly at Kat. “What did you do?” he demanded.
“Nothing.”
“What did you do?” he repeated.
“What could I have done?” she asked. She desperately tried to keep her eyes level with his, to keep her voice low and soothing. “Quintin, haven’t you noticed? The phones are all down.”
“What do you think we are?” David asked. “Magicians? This is a small town. Everyone knows we come up here for Christmas. It’s probably just someone wanting to make sure we weathered the storm all right.”
“I’m telling you, it’s the cops,” Quintin said, still looking at Kat.
“If it is, they’re probably just checking on all the houses they can reach,” Kat said, staring back at Quintin with complete innocence. “The office is just a few miles down the road. They’ll have seen our lights.” Her heart was racing. What if the officers barged in, saying they’d gotten her message? What if they walked in with their guns cocked?
The bell rang again, ratcheting up the tension. She swallowed, turning slightly and praying she wouldn’t give herself away. Because they were right. It had to be the cops at the door. And when they came in…
She looked over at her mother, knowing that any call from this address was already suspect, thanks to Jamie and that prank he’d pulled.
Which was going to be worse? Cops thinking they were pulling another prank and coming in unprepared, or taking it seriously and walking in ready to shoot?
Maybe neither. Maybe there was a God.
There had to be a way to tell them they were under siege.
Quintin pointed at Skyler. “You. Over here by me. Scooter, you and Craig take the family and answer the door. Except for you, kid.” He pointed at Jamie. “You stay in here, too. The rest of you, greet them and get rid of them. If you don’t, I’ll kill your mom and your brother. And if you cause any trouble out there, the cops will die, too.”
“It might not be the cops,” Frazier said.
“Yeah? Well, whoever it is, get rid of them.”
The bell rang for a third time, and Quintin looked even edgier than before.
“Scooter…you and Craig can be brothers. Craig…you’re the daughter’s boyfriend. I’m warning you all, my finger’s twitching. I’m going to be sorry if Mom here doesn’t make it to Christmas, but I swear, I will kill her and the boy if anyone makes a wrong move out there. Do you all understand?” Quintin demanded.
“They’ll break the door down if they have to ring that bell any longer,” Craig pointed out quietly.
“Go!” Quintin ordered.
David led the family out to the foyer to answer the door. Kat followed, aware that Craig was right behind her, painfully aware that Quintin was holding Jamie and her mother at gunpoint in the kitchen.
As Kat watched, her father looked out the peephole. Her entire throat felt constricted. She prayed that the police wouldn’t come barging in, demanding to know who had sent out a plea for help.
Maybe it hadn’t gotten through and this really was just a courtesy call because of the storm.
“Well?” Scooter demanded from behind Brenda, who was gripping Frazier’s hand tightly.
“It is the cops,
” David said.
“Open the door. And no tricks. If you betray me, your wife dies, your kid dies, and I’ll take down your daughter first, you got it?” Scooter said.
David reached for the door.
“And quit looking like scared rabbits, all of you!” Scooter demanded. “Act naturally.”
David nodded and opened the door.
There were two of them outside. They were in their county uniforms, under deep blue, heavy, hooded coats, and they were wearing clunky boots because of the snow. Kat knew the woman, Sergeant Sheila Polanski. She’d first met her when she’d been a very young child. The young man—tall, fit, friendly looking, not really handsome but with a nice smile—was a stranger.
Don’t say anything about a text message, she begged in silence. Don’t even look at us curiously, please.
To her amazement, they were both smiling. Shivering, but smiling.
Maybe her text really hadn’t gotten through.
“Sheila, my God, how are you?” David said. “What are you doing out here on Christmas Eve?”
“Just checking that everyone’s okay. Mind if we come in?” Sheila asked, stepping forward without waiting for an answer or an invitation.
With no other option, David led their two visitors into the living room. “David, this is Tim Graystone. He just started working with us a few months back.”
“How do you do,” Tim said, shaking David’s hand.
“Tim,” Sheila said, casually sweeping out a hand, “this is Frazier O’Boyle, his twin, Kat, their great-uncle, Patrick—and how are you, Paddy, you old coot?” she demanded.
“Fine, me darlin’, fine,” Paddy said, giving Sheila a hug.
“How’s the hip?”
“Healin’ fine, lass, healin’ just fine,” Paddy replied.
“And let’s see,” Sheila continued. “I’m sorry, David. I can’t introduce your guests, because I can’t say that I know them.”
“Sheila, Tim, I’d like you to meet my son’s girlfriend, Brenda, and this is…Craig,” David said.
Craig slipped an arm around Kat, and it was all she could do not to jump clear out of her skin. She managed to keep her smile in place.
“I’m with Kat,” Craig said, then nodded in Scooter’s direction. “This is my brother. We call him Scooter.”
The Last Noel Page 11