by Jean Barrett
Trying not to think any longer of the outcome and its consequences, Ellie concentrated on ridding herself of the binding that pinned her right wrist to Noah’s left wrist. She knew it would be a slow, laborious process, requiring the awkward use of her left hand and made more difficult by the constant fear of disturbing him.
Exercising every care as she peeled back the top of the quilt on her side, keeping her right arm perfectly still, she began to pick at the knots. They were so tight and tangled that it seemed hopeless. She had to caution herself repeatedly to be patient, to persevere.
The only sounds in the room as she worked at the tough cord were the ticking clock on the mantel and Noah’s steady breathing. She was aware of him every second. The clean scent of his body after his shower, the beat of the pulse in the hollow of his throat, the way he swallowed unconsciously in his sleep. Small, appealing things that did nothing to help her effort.
Her frustration mounted, but she continued to pluck at the tough cord. There, success at last! She had managed to loosen the first knot. But before she could attack the others, he moved restlessly. Catching her lip between her teeth, she held her breath and prayed he wouldn’t try to roll over on his side. The action would drag her arm with him, either awakening him or putting her wrist out of reach.
No, it was all right. He remained on his back and was still again. She resumed her operation, fingers digging at the restraint. It seemed to take forever, but in reality was probably less than twenty minutes later, before she succeeded with the last knot and was finally able to slide her hand out of the loop.
For a moment she rested, testing her freedom, making certain that Noah was unaware of her escape. Then, inch by cautious inch, she squeezed away from him, lifting herself off the bed in slow stages.
The tension eased once she was on her feet, but it was nothing like relief. Not yet. Stealing across the room, she slipped into a pair of jeans, tucking her sleep shirt into the waistband. Grabbing up her shoes, she headed on bare feet for the door. She wasn’t interested in finding the gun. Not this time. Nor would she hunt for the phone he’d hidden. Even if she located it, she wouldn’t dare to use it in here. She needed a safe public phone away from this cottage. There was one in the lounge off the lobby where they had checked in.
She managed to unlock the door and open it soundlessly. She looked back toward the bed before she headed into the night. He was still sleeping. She felt like a fist was squeezing her heart at the sight of him lying there, unaware of what she was about to do.
“Forgive me,” she whispered.
Then she went out into the darkness, closing the door softly behind her.
ELLIE PAUSED under the trees as she neared the brightly lit main entrance to the inn. A late-arriving tour bus was parked there, discharging passengers and unloading luggage. She decided it might be better to avoid this flurry of noise and activity. However small the risk, she didn’t want to arouse any curiosity about her errand.
The flagged walk divided here, a sign indicating that the left branch led to the open-air terrace bar edging the millpond at the back of the sprawling building. She could gain access to the lounge from that side without mingling with the guests. The terrace probably wasn’t occupied at this hour. Ellie headed that way.
Arriving at the rear of the inn, she discovered that on this end the terrace was screened by a thick, man-high yaupon hedge. An arch midway along its tightly sheared length offered an entrance to the stone-flagged terrace. She hesitated when she reached the opening. She wasn’t alone out here.
There were lanterns in the trees above the scattered tables. They revealed the solitary figure of a man standing on the far side. He had his back to her and was smoking a cigar. He kept glancing impatiently in the direction of the door to the lounge. Obviously waiting for someone, he was unaware of her hanging here in the dimness of the archway.
There was nothing familiar about him. No reason why she shouldn’t ignore him and continue on her way to the lounge door. But there were two things that bothered her and kept her lingering in the shadows. He had a grungy look about his clothes that made him seem an unlikely guest in a place this expensive. Also, there was a kind of tension in the restless way he puffed the cigar that she didn’t like.
Ellie was glad she had trusted her instinct to be cautious when, a second later, the lounge door opened and the stranger was joined by another man. Before the arrival could spot her, she pulled back swiftly behind the cover of the hedge. Brief though her glance had been, she’d recognized that buzz cut and tough, meaty face. What was Brett Buchanan’s driver and bodyguard doing here?
“Beginning to think you weren’t coming,” she heard the man with the cigar complain.
“I’ve got a job,” Peaches said. “I can’t just drop it and run because you pick up a phone and call me. I had to wait until Buchanan decided he didn’t need me anymore tonight. What are you doing here anyway?”
“I’m not staying in the place. Just seemed like a good out-of-the-way spot to have a beer and talk.”
“I don’t mean the inn. I’m talking about North Carolina.”
“Come on over here and sit down and I’ll tell you.”
They were headed in her direction. The wisest thing she could do was to make a swift, silent retreat before they detected her presence behind the hedge.
“This is about Noah Rhyder, isn’t it?” Peaches said.
Ellie froze in astonishment. She knew now that she wasn’t going anywhere. Not before she had some answers. But an explanation wasn’t immediately forthcoming. There was a frustrating delay while they settled themselves at one of the tables.
She heard the scrape of metal against stone as they pulled out the wrought iron chairs; she smelled the odor of the cigar and knew that the table they had selected was directly on the other side of the hedge from where she stood. The yaupon was as solid as a wall. They couldn’t possibly know she was here hugging the darkness and listening to them. Not as long as she remained perfectly quiet. That’s what she told herself anyway, but she was ready to bolt at the first hint of discovery.
“You want a beer, Peaches? I’m buying. Waitress should be along again in a minute.”
“Forget the beer. I’m still waiting to hear it, Lew. Noah Rhyder, right?”
There was a pause and then a mumbled, “Yeah, okay, I’m after Rhyder. He’s still on the loose out there, and I want him.”
“The department send you?”
There was no reply.
Peaches chuckled. “I didn’t think so. They don’t know you’re here, do they? You’re on your own. Bolling’s gonna have your badge when he finds out”
“Not if I bring him Rhyder.”
“Yeah? And what makes you think you’re gonna find him in North Carolina?”
“Because his kid is here. I know that bastard. He won’t go anywhere without his kid.”
“That’s bull. He can’t get to him even if he was to learn Buchanan has him here.”
“I figure he does know he’s here,” Lew said. “I figure he’s probably coming after him.”
“How?”
“The Matheson woman. I think he’s grabbed her.”
Ellie wanted to seize a deep, steadying breath and didn’t dare. In the silence that followed she could hear the waters of the millpond lapping softly against the stone wall that framed the terrace.
“You know that for a fact?” Peaches finally challenged him.
“Not for certain,” Lew admitted, “but everything points to it.”
“Okay, if it’s true, then maybe he does know this is where Buchanan and the kid are. But how come you know it, Lew? Buchanan wasn’t telling anyone where to find us, except a few people who had to know.”
“Well, one of those had to be somebody in the department,” Lew answered evasively, “because I didn’t have much trouble getting the address.”
There was another pause. Ellie could picture the bodyguard on the other side of the barrier leaning back in his ch
air as he suspiciously considered Lew’s information.
“I don’t know that I buy that,” he said, “any more than I buy the rest. But if I was to buy it, what’s all this got to do with me? You wanna explain that, Lew? Wanna tell me why you phone me on the sly and get me down here in the middle of the night?”
“Come on, Peaches, you know why. I need your help in getting Rhyder. You’re in charge of security at the estate, so when he turns up—and he will—you’ll probably be the first to know it. When that happens, I wanna know it, too. I wanna be there to personally collar him.”
“You think he’s that dumb?”
“I think he’s that desperate. I think he’ll risk getting caught to snatch his kid.”
“Let’s say that he does, and I’m ready for him. Only why should I make you a part of it?”
“Because the two of us working together have a better chance of catching him. And when we do, you stand to benefit.”
“How?”
“Your boss, Buchanan. He’s loaded, right? You prevent his nephew from being kidnapped, he’s gonna be grateful. Probably grateful enough to see that you get a bonus. Maybe a bonus generous enough for a down payment on that condo Ginger has been wanting.”
There was another thoughtful silence on the other side of the hedge. Ellie heard the click of a lighter. Lew must be lighting another cigar. A chair creaked as one of them sturred in it restlessly.
“It’s an interesting proposition,” Peaches said. “Real tempting. Kind of funny considering what I think about this guy.”
“What?”
“He isn’t the one. Noah Rhyder isn’t the one who murdered Buchanan’s old man. Yeah, that’s what I think. As a matter of fact, I felt from the start he was all wrong ”
“You trying to tell me you sympathize with the bastard?”
“I could care less. I’m just telling you he’s not it. Remember how, when I was on the force, I had this sixth sense about suspects being guilty or not guilty and how it turned out I was right every time. Yeah, the more I think about it, I’m certain Rhyder didn’t do it.”
“You’re nuts. Who else was there?”
“For all I know, it was Buchanan himself. He’s capable of murder, and there was no love lost between him and the senator.”
“No motive,” Lew said, and Ellie could hear the anger in his gravelly voice. An anger directed at Noah. “Rhyder had all the motives.”
“Maybe. But you know what else I think? I think that deep down in your cop’s gut you’re not convinced either that Rhyder did it. But you’re not interested in his innocence, are you, Lew?”
“I’m interested in justice.”
“The hell you are You never let it go, did you, Lew? You’ve kept that hate for the guy inside you all these years. It’s got you crazy. That’s why you want him so bad.”
“Look,” Lew growled, “are you gonna help me or not?”
“Sure, why not. Buchanan pays me well, better than the force ever did. And like you say, if we put Rhyder back behind bars, maybe he’ll pay me even better.” There was the sound of a chair being pushed back, someone coming to his feet. “I gotta get back to the house. Let me know where you’re staying so I can keep you posted if anything turns up.”
“I’ve checked into the Big Mountain Motel. They’ll take messages for me if I’m out. I figure I’m gonna be busy scouting around the area. Trying to pick up something useful while we wait for Rhyder to show and make his move. You sure you don’t want that beer?”
His voice faded along with the sound of their footsteps as the two men left the terrace. Ellie was alone. She went on standing there in the shadows, numbed by what she had overheard, her mind struggling to process the information. In the end only one thing mattered. A vast relief that left her glowing inside. However, on the outside…
She shivered, suddenly aware that she was cold. She hadn’t realized until now how sharp the night air of autumn was coming off the millpond. Her bare feet were like ice against the stone flags. In her excitement she hadn’t remembered to slip into her shoes after she left the cottage. She was still clutching them.
Nor did she bother now to put them on. She had something more urgent to do. Turning away from the hedge, she hurried along the path. She was no longer interested in finding a telephone.
Chapter Nine
Something had awakened him, and for a moment he didn’t understand what it was. He lay there on his back, pushing away the fog of sleep that still clung to him. When he lifted his arm to rub his hand over his eyes, he realized there was no weight attached to it. There should have been a weight. That’s when he knew something was wrong.
Suddenly alert, Noah shot up on the bed. The clothesline was still wrapped around his wrist, but Ellie wasn’t at the other end of it. Gone. She had managed to loosen the knots without his awareness. And had escaped, vanishing into the night.
For a few seconds he experienced a frantic sense of loss that had nothing to do with a fear for his own safety. And then reality kicked in. Did he stand any chance of getting her back, or was it already too late?
He started to swing his feet to the floor, intending to get out of here before the cops arrived. He froze, his head swiveling toward the fireplace. That’s what had awakened him. There was a blaze crackling behind the screen. What in the hell was—
The outside door opened. Ellie came into the cottage, her arms loaded with lengths of split log. She saw him there on the bed, staring at her.
“There wasn’t enough wood in here to make a good fire,” she said. “They keep a stack just outside.” She crossed the room and dumped her load on the hearth. Then she crouched down on the hooked rug and held her hands toward the flames.
Noah shoved himself to his feet and went straight to the fireplace where he hunkered down beside her. “You wanna tell me what’s going on here?”
“I needed a fire. I was cold.”
Bewildered, he watched her as she casually opened the screen to add wood to the blaze. Then she got to her feet, went to the sofa, and removed a pair of cushions, which she placed side by side on the rug near the hearth.
“We’ll be more comfortable on these while we talk.” She settled on one of the cushions, patting the other in an invitation for him to sit.
Noah went on squatting on the floor. “So let me get this clear,” he said, eyeing her warily. “You get cold and decide you need to make a fire. Only to do that you have to work your way out of knots that would have anchored a battleship. Which, naturally, you manage to do without waking me. Then you sneak outside, not to disappear, mind you, but just to bring in wood. That what you asking me to believe, Ellie?”
“Well, of course, it’s more involved than that. Are you going to go on squatting there like that? You’ll get cramps in your legs if you don’t sit, because we have a lot to discuss.”
Irritated with her nonchalance, Noah shifted himself onto the cushion beside her. “Satisfied?”
“Would you like me to remove that rope from your wrist?”
“Are you trying to stall me while—”
“You can relax. No one is coming to arrest you. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to—”
“Forget the damn rope. I’ll untie it myself. Just tell me what I’ve got to worry about.”
“Nothing. At least not tonight.”
While he unfastened the length of clothesline with impatient fingers, she explained her intention to phone Brett, how she had been halted, and all that she had overheard on the terrace.
He had freed himself of the rope by the time she was finished. He held it with both hands, his thumbs absently stroking it as he stared at her intently. “You never made that call?”
“No.”
“You came straight back here?”
“That’s right.”
“Are you trying to tell me, Ellie, that everything’s changed because of what you heard? That you believe me now?”
“I guess I am saying just that,” she said softly, and with a
kind of wonder over her own certainty.
“Maybe what you heard doesn’t mean a thing. Maybe I’ve been lying to you all along and I am guilty of killing Howard Buchanan.”
“But you weren’t, and you aren’t.”
There was a simple conviction in her voice and such sweet relief inside him at hearing her unquestioning faith in his innocence that he wanted to take her in his arms, hold her tightly, and shout his gladness. But he restrained himself as he noticed her expression. She was gazing at him with a new fear in her eyes.
“What?” he demanded, tossing the rope aside.
“That man, Lew,” she said anxiously. “Who is he?”
“You heard. He’s a St. Louis cop. Lew Ferguson. The detective who questioned and arrested me. He was moved off the case a day or so after I was brought in, something about mismanaged evidence. I can’t say I was sorry they replaced him.”
She shook her head. “It’s more than just that. Noah, he hates you. It has to do with the past, long before the murder. What happened between the two of you?”
“Nothing. Ellie, I never met the guy before that afternoon they picked me up outside the zoo. Never even heard of him.”
She frowned. “I’m sure I didn’t get it wrong. I’m sure that’s what Peaches said, and Lew Ferguson didn’t deny it. It must be something.”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” she insisted. “If St. Louis doesn’t know he’s here, then he’s risking his job to personally get you. There’s something creepy about that.” She shuddered. “He’s mean, Noah. And Peaches strikes me as a cold brute. The two of them are dangerous.”
“It could be worse. If Ferguson had told his department whatever he learned about my heading out here, I’d never get near Joel. Cops would be swarming all over the place waiting to take me. This way I stand a chance of grabbing Joel and putting distance between us and North Carolina.”
“How, when Peaches and the detective will be watching for you every minute?”
His face wore a stubborn look. “I’m not leaving here without my kid.”