A tree root snagged her foot, and Emily pitched forward. She lay frozen on the ground, catching her breath as she listened for any sound of pursuit. All was silent for a moment, but then she heard it—the telltale snap of a twig as Tony made his way down the embankment toward her.
Even with a bum knee, he would catch her. Emily looked around desperately, searching the murky hillside for a place to hide. A dead tree, split by lightning, lay a few feet away, and she scrambled toward it, drawing herself up into the small cave created by the cleaved trunk. She lay there shivering, watching the mist swirl around her.
Tony ran past her, breathing heavily. The flight down the embankment had taken its toll on him. He was limping badly, and Emily thought desperately that if she could make it back up to the highway, she could drive away in his truck. Out here, she didn’t stand much of a chance against him. Even with darkness coming fast and the fog like a heavy blanket around her, the embankment offered very little cover. He would find her, and soon.
Slipping from her hiding place, Emily began the long climb uphill. Earlier, after the accident, it had been difficult enough, but now she was terrified and exhausted, and the misty darkness tangled around her like a web. The highway was in sight now, and there, rising out of the fog, stood Tony’s truck. Freedom. Emily tried not to gasp for breath as she pulled every ounce of her energy and courage together. She could make it. Only a few more feet. Another few seconds—
And then a hand grabbed her foot, and Emily lurched forward. Clawing at the ground, she screamed as Tony pulled her toward him.
Emily fought him like a wildcat. He tried to pin her to the ground, but she lashed out with her arms and legs, making it as difficult as she could for him to get a hold on her. Finally, he grabbed her wrists and straddled her. Beneath his weight, Emily was helpless.
“Bitch,” he muttered, staring down at her in the darkness. “No one would ever have known if you hadn’t started asking all those questions. I won’t go to prison,” he said through gritted teeth. “My old man died in the joint. I’m not following in his footsteps.”
He dragged Emily to her feet, pulling her arms painfully behind her back. He pushed her forward, up the embankment, toward the highway. Emily stumbled once, and he jerked her upright. White-hot pain shot up her arms.
He was going to kill her. Emily knew that. But as she frantically cast her eyes about for a means of escape, a sound came to her. A low thrum that steadily grew louder. A motorcycle. A motorcycle in Paradise.
Matthew!
Tony heard it, too. He pulled her to a stop, cursing under his breath as he listened to the sound, which was growing stronger by the second. It was right above them, and for a moment, Emily was afraid Matthew would ride by them. But as he reached Tony’s truck, the Harley came to an abrupt halt and the motor was killed. In the screaming silence, Emily heard the sound of her heart beating wildly in her ears.
Tony yanked her behind a stand of cedar trees, whispering against her ear, “Don’t make a sound, bitch.” And then she felt the cool metal edge of a knife thrust against her throat.
Emily dared not even swallow. She could feel the blade biting into her skin, and knew that Tony would have no compunctions about using it. He was a desperate man. A killer.
“Emily?” It was Matthew’s voice, calling to her from the highway. Emily wanted to sob out his name. He was so close! So close, and yet she could do nothing to bring him to her.
Emily heard him scramble down the embankment toward her car, heard the sound of the door being wrenched open and then slammed shut again. For a moment, for an eternity, everything was silent. The knife bit into her neck, warning her. Emily closed her eyes tightly, willing Matthew toward her. But she could hear him moving back up the hillside, toward the truck.
“Damn,” Tony muttered. He hesitated, as if trying to decide the best course of action. “We’re going down,” he said, jerking his head toward the valley. “Don’t try anything stupid.”
Emily nodded as they began their awkward sliding shuffle downhill. Tony, still limping badly, lowered the knife from her throat to her side, making the trek a little easier for both of them. They’d gone perhaps a hundred yards or so when Emily slipped on the wet ground. As she fell, her weight put added pressure on Tony’s already weakened knee as he grabbed for her, and they both lost their balance.
Tony hit the ground with a thud, and his grip on Emily loosened. She scrambled away from him, screaming Matthew’s name as she got to her feet.
“Emily!” His answering call was so close, Emily wondered how she had not heard his pursuit. Tony got to his feet, head lowered, shoulders forward, ready to charge. The knife glistened in his hand as he eyed Emily for a long moment, ready to spring.
Matthew came out of the mist behind her. She saw Tony’s head lift, and his body went still. Emily thought she heard him mutter, “Drury,” in a voice edged with fear and anger and maybe just a hint of wonder.
For the longest moment, no one moved a muscle. Emily strained to see Matthew’s face in the darkness, but his expression was veiled by the mist. He might have been nothing more than a ghost.
The illusion must have held for Tony, too, for he said thickly, “Why did you come back? Why couldn’t you let her rest in peace?”
Matthew said calmly, “You killed her, didn’t you, Tony?”
“Why did you have to come back?” Tony’s voice was a hoarse plea that sent a shiver scurrying down Emily’s back. It was eerie, those disembodied voices, those dark silhouettes facing off in the misty night.
Then, like a flash of lightning, Tony lunged forward. He tried to grab Emily, but she stepped backward, stumbling over a boulder.
Matthew came at him like a freight train. The collision knocked the knife from Tony’s hand, and the momentum carried them both several feet away before they crashed to the ground, rolling over and over in their deadly embrace.
A cold feeling went through Emily as she heard fists connect with flesh, grunts of pain, the sharp intake of someone’s breath—her own, perhaps.
And then Tony screamed in pain, and Emily thought Matthew had probably found the injured knee. She staggered forward, trying to see what was happening, to see whether she could somehow help Matthew, but as she drew near the two men, she saw that the fight was all but over. One of them lay doubled up on the ground, clutching his knee to his chest, while the other, gun gleaming dully in his hand, stood over him.
Emily gave a little gasping sob as she ran forward.
Matthew said, “Are you all right?”
But all she could muster was a weak little nod that she wasn’t even sure he could discern in the darkness.
Tony was still alive, but all the fight had drained out of him. He lay on the wet ground, groaning in agony. Both men were breathing heavily. Matthew’s arm came around Emily and he drew her close as they stared down at Tony.
“What do we do now?” she finally managed to ask.
“Now we let Tony tell us everything we want to know. Right, Tony?”
The beaten man glared up at him.
“You might as well come clean,” Matthew said conversationally. “They’ll let you take the rap for everything. First murder, and now attempted murder. You’re in big trouble, Tony, but if you cooperate, I might be willing to help you.”
“How can you help me?” Tony said sullenly. He sat up on the wet ground, still grasping his knee.
With his left hand, Matthew dug in his back pocket for his wallet. He brought it out, flipped it open and handed it to Tony. “I’m a federal marshal.”
Emily saw Tony’s shock. He brought the wallet close to his face, squinting. “I can’t see anything.”
“You’ll have to trust me, then,” Matthew said. “I can do you a lot of hurt or a lot of good. It’s your call.”
“If you’re a federal marshal,” Tony said suspiciously, “what the hell are you doing in Paradise?”
Matthew flipped his wallet closed, then stuffed it back in his pocket. His
arm came back around Emily, and she shivered. “I think the answer to that question is obvious. I came here to solve a fifteen-year-old murder. Jenny Wilcox was an FBI agent.”
“You’re lying,” Tony said desperately. “She was a schoolteacher. I knew her. I knew her better than anyone.”
Matthew shook his head. “She came here to infiltrate a group of vigilantes calling themselves the Avengers. I see that name means something to you,” he said when Tony visibly reacted. “I thought it might. I imagine Jenny did, too. That’s why she struck up a…friendship with you.”
“She was in love with me.”
Matthew just shook his head. “She used you, Tony, because that was her job. She was in love with her husband.”
“Husband?” The word was almost a whisper.
“Wade Drury.”
Tony tried to get up, but Matthew took a warning step toward him, motioning with the gun. “No, I think I like you there just fine.”
Tony slumped back to the ground. “I need a drink, man.”
“Not yet,” Matthew said, in a tone that was oddly soothing. “Just a few more questions, and then we’ll get you that drink.” Matthew began to move around a bit, as if he were a lawyer questioning a witness on the stand. The effect was at once lulling and intimidating. Emily had to admire his technique. “You knew about Wade and Jenny, didn’t you, Tony?”
“No! I thought she was in love with me. I thought she wanted me—”
Again Matthew shook his head. “You never thought that. You wanted it to be true, but you never really believed it, did you? Is that why you killed her?” Though the bluntness of the question shocked Emily, she had to marvel at the calmness in Matthew’s voice. Nothing in his tone gave away what he had to be feeling.
Tony’s voice trembled. “I loved her! She was the only woman I ever loved! There’s been no one else since her. I dream about her every night. Every time I close my eyes, I see all that blood on my hands—” He stopped suddenly, as if realizing what he’d just said. Then he drew a shaky breath. “I didn’t mean to do it,” he whispered in despair. “You gotta believe me. I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing—”
“Who were the other members of the Avengers?”
Tony balked on that question. Emily could sense his hesitation, his almost palpable fear. She peered through the darkness, trying to read his expression.
He said, “I can’t tell you that. We were sworn to secrecy.”
“By whom?”
Again he faltered.
“They can’t help you now, Tony. I’m probably the only one who can help you.”
Tony stared up at Matthew. “You know who they were, man. Everyone knows.”
“Was Sheriff Willis involved?”
“Yes.”
“Trey Huntington?”
Emily caught her breath. Trey, an Avenger? But why should that notion shock her? It made so much sense. He’d always thought he owned Paradise. Using violence to coerce the townspeople into doing what he wanted them to, accepting what he wanted them to accept—
Somewhere deep inside her, Emily realized she had always suspected the truth.
“Was Trey Huntington involved?” Matthew asked again.
“Yeah. He was involved,” Tony said at last. “The whole thing was his idea.”
“Did he know you killed Jenny?”
“He knew. He agreed to help me, because we were brothers, Avengers. We always had to stick together, that’s what Trey said. He said he would take care of everything, and he did. He gave me an alibi for that night, and then he came up with the idea of framing Wade Drury for Jenny’s murder.”
“What happened to Wade?” No one but Emily would have noticed the catch in Matthew’s voice.
Tony said, “I don’t know what happened to him, and that’s the God’s truth. They went out to find him the night after the murder. Someone told them he’d been seen down by the river and—”
“Wait a minute,” Matthew said, interrupting him. “You said they. Are you talking about Huntington and Willis?”
“Yeah. And Stuart Townsend.”
The name was like a physical blow to Emily. She felt Matthew’s body tense. His arm tightened around her.
“You’re lying,” she said, glaring down at Tony. “Stuart would never have condoned a group like the Avengers. He abhors violence, and to even suggest he might have had something to do with Wade’s disappearance is utterly ridiculous.” She turned to face Matthew in the darkness. “How can we believe anything he’s said now? He’s obviously lying to cover his own tracks.”
“Emily.” That was all Matthew said, just her name, but there was something in his voice that reminded her of the day she’d been locked in Cora Mae’s basement, and afterward, when Stuart had left so abruptly. Matthew had been looking at her with pity in his eyes then, and she heard that same sentiment in his voice now.
Emily spun back around to face Tony. “You’re lying about Stuart!” she cried. “Tell him. Tell him the truth. Stuart wasn’t involved. He couldn’t have been….”
She saw Tony shrug in the darkness. “He was one of us. I don’t know what he and Trey and Willis did to Drury that night. We never talked about it again.”
Emily put both hands to her mouth. She couldn’t believe it, couldn’t accept what the man was saying. He was a murderer, after all. He’d just owned up to killing Jenny Wilcox. How could they believe anything he said?
And why was Matthew still listening to him? Acting as if what Tony said had credence?
Matthew said quietly, “You tried to kill us, too, didn’t you, Tony? That night out on the highway. You loosened that boulder. Was it your idea, or Huntington’s?”
“He said we had to find a way to stop you two. You were asking too many questions. If the truth came out, we’d all be ruined.”
“So you followed us out of town, rigged the boulder somehow, then waited for us to come back.”
Tony’s voice took on a whining note. “We just wanted to scare you. Then.”
“Then?”
“Trey got the idea that if we ran Emily out of business, she’d give up the investigation. Forget all about the murder. And if she didn’t have her business, no means of support…” He trailed off on a shrug.
Matthew swore. “If she had no way to support herself, then she would be forced to turn to Trey, is that it?”
“He didn’t like anyone rejecting him,” Tony explained. “He said Emily…needed to be taught a lesson.”
“So you threw the rock through her door and the Molotov cocktail through her window. Then you locked her in Cora Mae’s basement. Only you went a little too far that time, didn’t you? Emily almost died. And then there was Mike Durbin. What happened, Tony? Did he find you out?”
Tony said incredulously, “I didn’t kill Durbin, and I didn’t lock Emily in any basement. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t stall on me now, Tony. We’ve come too far,” Matthew warned.
“I’m telling you the truth!” Tony all but shouted. “I’ve admitted what I’ve done, but I won’t take the rap for something I didn’t do.”
“Why is it I find myself not believing you?”
“It’s the truth! I swear to God!”
There was a tremor in Emily’s voice when she spoke. “You said Trey wanted to frighten me out of business so I’d drop the investigation. Did…did Stuart know about that, too?”
Tony didn’t say anything, but his silence said it all. Emily covered her face with her hands. She felt like weeping. She’d never felt so betrayed.
“Emily, I’m sorry,” Matthew said softly.
She raised her head and stared at him, suddenly realizing why he had looked at her with pity that day at the inn, why his voice now held so much remorse. “You knew, didn’t you?”
Matthew let out a breath. “I suspected.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He made a helpless gesture with the hand that held the gun. “I cou
ldn’t. I had no proof, just a gut feeling.”
“And how long had you had this gut feeling?” Don’t ask the question unless you want to know the answer, Emily thought fatalistically, but it was too late. Matthew was already gazing at her with a mixture of pity, regret, and guilt. Guilt.
“You knew all along, didn’t you?” Emily whispered. “Even before you came here?”
Matthew nodded. “I’d done a lot of research. I had my suspicions.”
“And that’s why you came to me. You thought…what? That I would somehow lead you to Stuart? Inadvertently give you the proof you needed? Is that why you—?” She stopped herself before saying more in front of Tony Vincent than she would ever be able to forget. She had to somehow save whatever shreds of pride might still be intact.
She turned away from him. “What happens now?”
“I think it’s time to call the state police,” Matthew said, his voice heavy with regret.
AFTER Matthew had filled in the two state troopers who responded to his call and Tony Vincent had been carted away, Matthew took Emily down the mountain, back to Stuart’s house.
“What a mess this has all turned out to be,” he said as they stood on the front porch. “There’ll be a dozen state troopers in Paradise within the hour. All hell is going to break loose.”
“What will happen to them?” Emily asked, hugging herself against the chill in her heart.
“Willis will be formally relieved of his duties, pending a hearing, and both Huntington and…your brother will eventually have to face charges of conspiracy, obstruction of justice, perhaps even murder. The list is pretty long. I’m sorry, Emily.”
“Why? You got what you came for, didn’t you?”
He drew his hand through his hair, gazing down at her in the dim light from the street lamp. “I never wanted you to get hurt.”
“How could I not be hurt?” Emily asked in anguish. With her fingertips, she wiped away a tear spilling down her cheek. “You used me to get to my brother. You were willing to do whatever it took to find out the truth, and that included sleeping with me. Didn’t it? Didn’t it?” she almost screamed.
Amanda Stevens Bestseller Collection: Stranger In Paradise/A Baby's Cry Page 19