“You won’t have to go far to find me, Sheriff.”
The three men turned. Two men walked out of the shadows behind one of the boats. One had his arm in a sling but his good hand held a large pistol. The other man was Gordon Randall. Bobby’s heart sank. Then Randall nodded to the other man who holstered his pistol. As Bobby, Daniel, and Jonathan looked on in surprise, Randall lit a cigarette.
“Sheriff, I know we’ve been playing on two different teams here, but Jamison and I find ourselves in a tight squeeze. So we came out to make a deal with you. Rachel is not in her room. She’s hidden in a safe room and I am the only one that can get you in. She’s very sick.”
Daniel lunged at Randall, but Bobby held him back. “Yes, she’s sick because you’ve been poisoning her!”
“That’s true, son, but we were only doing what Augusta paid us to do. It was nothing personal, believe me. Now the game has changed and we find ourselves in need of some help. And then you show up. It seems that timing is everything.”
Bobby nodded. “Go on.”
“Here’s the deal. We give you the girl and you take us out of here. We have an SUV and if the sheriff here is driving, he can get us past Augusta’s cops out front. She’s probably given them orders to shoot us. We have another car in town. I’ve got the information the doctors need to save the girl. As soon as we’re at the hospital, Jamison and I walk away and you never see us again. We let bygones be bygones. But you have to decide now so you can get the girl out of here. Once you’re there, you give the doctor this.” He showed Bobby a note and a small glassine bag with pills in it. “This will tell him exactly how to treat the girl. She will probably live if we go now. What do you say?”
Bobby looked at Jonathan and Daniel. Jonathan concurred. “Rachel’s life is more important than anything, Bobby. We have to do what he says.”
Bobby nodded. “Lead the way, Randall.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Truth Will Set You Free
The five men left the boathouse and made their way through the storm to the east wing of the house. Randall led them in the side door. He signaled for them to be quiet, and they all moved silently down the hall. They came to the panel that hid the secret room, and Randall keyed in the combination. The door slid silently back and Randall ducked inside. Before the others could enter, he came back out.
“Rachel isn’t in there. Augusta must have taken her.”
Daniel grabbed Randall by the arm. “How could she carry Rachel by herself?”
Jamison spoke up. “I didn’t give Gerald his drugs this morning. There was too much going on, so he could have been alert enough to help. She must have forced him to carry her.”
Randall walked a little way up the hall. He saw something on the floor. “Someone vomited here.”
The rest of the men gathered around. Randall looked in the direction that the stain indicated. “Augusta’s taking Rachel back to her room. She wants the perfect scenario. Rachel dies in her bed, her grieving husband commits suicide by the bedside, Augusta leaves the country and lives off the eighty million she stole from Gerald. She may be insane, but she’s not totally crazy, yet.”
Together, the group of men made their way up the stairs and then down the hall toward Rachel’s suite. Randall motioned for them to move to either side of the door. Then he slowly opened it. Rachel was lying in the bed. The covers had been pulled up over her and she looked like she was sleeping. Randall could tell she was slipping into a coma. Her face was pale and her hair was matted against her head. Gerald was standing next to her holding her hand and Augusta was holding a gun on him. When Augusta saw Randall, she shoved Gerald aside and jammed the barrel of the gun next to Rachel’s head.
“Well, well, Gordon Randall. I thought Mr. Jamison was going to take care of you. Your friend, Mr. Jamison, is a very naughty boy.”
Randall moved into the room. “Some of us retain a sense of loyalty, Augusta.”
Augusta saw a movement outside the door. She pressed the gun tighter against Rachel’s head. “Everybody inside or the girl dies. Move!”
Daniel came into the room, followed by Bobby and Jonathan.
“Daniel King! Join the party! Uh, uh, don’t come any closer. At this point it no longer matters to me how Rachel dies. I will shoot her if you take one more step.”
The men halted. Augusta looked at Jonathan. “And this must be Rachel’s papa.” Augusta snickered. “You certainly don’t look non-violent.”
Jonathan stiffened. “Where my daughter’s life is concerned, you might be surprised what I am capable of.”
Augusta motioned for the men to stand against the wall. Then she began a weird sing-song chant over Rachel. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate cleansing the earth from the stain of the St. Clair family. Rachel and Gerald will be crossing over today and soon all the St. Clairs will be gone.” She snickered again. “Except me, of course, but then I’m not really a St. Clair, am I?”
She looked at the grim faces of the men. “It seems like we’ve got a standoff here. I guess I’ll just have to be happy with killing these two and then see how the rest plays out.”
Randall looked at Gerald. He was staring at his grandmother in disbelief. Randall took a shot—anything to keep the crazed woman talking. “Gerald, why don’t you ask your grandmother what she did to your family? I’m sure she would be happy to tell you. It was all done so brilliantly, and I’m sure she wouldn’t want her secrets to follow her to the grave, would you, Augusta?”
Augusta looked at Randall. The gun was still pressed against Rachel’s head. “It was brilliant, wasn’t it, Gordon?” She turned to Gerald. “Yes, my darling grandson. You should hear how smart your grandmother has been. All these years, you thought I loved you, that I was just a doddering old grandmother with a few peculiarities.” She laughed at her own joke. The effect was chilling. “Shall I start with your grandfather Robert?”
Gerald’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Yes, Gerald, your grandfather, Robert St. Clair. Jerod St. Clair wasn’t your grandfather. He was a weak, little mollycoddle. Robert St. Clair fathered my child. But he rejected me and married that Amish tramp. And then I knew that I would have my revenge, and that I would be God’s instrument in wiping the St. Clair family from the face of the earth. Oh, how I hated Robert. Men don’t understand that a woman’s love can turn to deep hate if she’s wronged. What is that old saying, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’?”
Her eyes narrowed. “How could he do that to me? How could he marry her instead of me? She gave him a daughter. I was the one who loved him. I gave him a son. I gave him everything—and he spurned me for her, that Rachel Borntraeger.”
Randall moved an inch to his left, trying to get into a position to get the jump on Augusta. Jamison saw it and moved slightly to his right. “Tell Gerald what you did to Rachel, Robert’s wife.”
Augusta smiled as if reliving the memory. “I should have killed her like I killed Robert. But I wanted her to suffer horribly. When she came to the house in New York, I knew her right away. I had Robert’s pictures. I got them from Max. Joe Bender worked for me. It was easy for him to get Rachel addicted to heroin. She was already in so much pain. The heroin was her escape. And I loved that. I wanted her to stay alive, a slave to drugs, knowing that Robert was dead, gone, and that she would never have him.”
Gerald’s hands were shaking. “You killed Robert St. Clair?”
“Ah, yes, Robert. Of course I killed him and I’m happy to say he died horribly. Did he really think he could spurn me and walk away? Did he really think he could leave me for that little slut? Bender said it was easy. He stole a truck, waited for Robert to go to work and then, when he was driving through an intersection, Bender ran him off the road into a tree. Robert’s car exploded and he burned to death. He roasted in hell before he died. That was the best part.”
Bobby Halverson spoke up. “Joe Bender worked for you? He was your hit man? You had Robert
St. Clair killed and Joe Bender did the deed?”
“Yes, Sheriff, you are correct. Didn’t dig that one up when you were looking for Jenny’s parents, did you?”
Bobby shook his head. Augusta looked at the men. Her face was like flint but she smiled seductively at them. The effect was repulsive.
There was a pause and then Augusta shrugged. “Bender would do anything for me. He loved me. I could get any man to love me...except Robert. I...persuaded Bender to kill Robert. Of course, Robert had it coming. Everyone thought Robert was such a nice man, but he didn’t hesitate to climb into my bed or seduce Rachel Borntraeger. But it’s not just Robert I swore revenge on. I have taken care of all the St. Clairs.”
Randall nodded at Gerald. “Gerald, she had your grandfather Robert’s parents killed, your great grandfather and great grandmother.”
Gerald stared at Augusta. She shook her head.
“Well, actually, Gerald, I killed Max and Margaret myself. Nobody ever noticed the little mark where I injected the air bubble into his neck. They all thought it was a stroke. And Margaret. That was a lot of fun. The old lady was half crazy already, and I would show her the pictures of her granddaughter and tell her that the little girl had been run over by a car. It didn’t take long until she had a heart attack and died.”
“And who else, Augusta? What about Francis and his wife?”
“Oh, Francis! That was so easy. They had been drinking. My agent lured them off the trail when they were skiing in Switzerland, suffocated them and buried them in the snow. Everyone thought it was an avalanche.”
Gerald moved closer. “You killed my father and my mother?”
“Well, of course, Gerald. He was Robert’s son, the devil’s spawn. I couldn’t let him live, now could I?”
Randall pressed the attack. “Why didn’t you just confess that Gerald is Robert’s grandson? Wouldn’t the DNA prove it?”
Augusta gave Randall a condescending look. “Without Robert, the DNA could only prove that Gerald is a St. Clair. But there was nothing left of Robert to make the final connection, and Gerald didn’t have the Key so it would have been my word. But it was never really about the money...”
Augusta tittered.
Randall nodded toward the bed. “And now you’re going to kill Rachel.”
“Oh, that’s not all, Gordon. You forget about the little red-haired brat in Paradise. She thought she could escape me. But she’ll find out.”
She gave Gerald a venomous look. “And then, of course, I have to do something about little Gerald, don’t I?”
Randall looked at Bobby and Jonathan. They were staring at Augusta with shock and disgust on their faces. Randall kept going. “Jenny Hershberger, too? Augusta, you are insane.”
“No, Gordon—bitter, thwarted, frustrated, hateful maybe, but not insane. Otherwise I wouldn’t have worked so hard to get my hands on the money. You see, when I’m finished with this branch of the St. Clair family, all the money will be in my bank account, and all of Robert St. Clair’s heirs will be dead.”
Jonathan stepped forward. “If you hurt Jenny...”
Augusta waved the gun at him and then quickly put it back to Rachel’s head.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you, Mr. Hershberger? I’ve already dispatched my messenger.”
Jonathan looked desperately at Bobby. “Bobby...”
Bobby shook his head and motioned Jonathan back.
Randall looked at Augusta. “I hate to burst your bubble, Augusta, but there’s something you are not aware of. Even if you could get your hands on it now, there is no money in Robert St. Clair’s trust. Duvigney spent it all.”
Augusta’s face twisted in disbelief.
Randall nodded. “Yes, Augusta, the money’s gone. Your plan backfired. When you killed Robert, Duvigney didn’t know about Rachel Borntraeger St. Clair and her daughter, Jenny St. Clair, because you kept that a secret and they had disappeared. Duvigney thought Robert’s trust was a dead end, no heirs, no disbursement. So he spent it. It’s actually kind of funny. Something else you don’t know is that I’ve been working for Duvigney all along to set you and Gerald up for the murder of Rachel. Then when Gerald went to prison, he couldn’t inherit and so your demands for the St. Clair fortune that wasn’t there would cease and Duvigney was off the hook from an investigation of the trust. Not to mention your part in the whole plan, which I conveniently recorded. You would have ended up on death row next to Gerald. But then Duvigney tried to have me killed, which means that I’ll just have to make sure that his part in all this comes to light. I’m sure the board of trustees for the St. Clair estate won’t be too happy about the missing money. If they don’t have him killed, he will end up in prison with you.”
Augusta hissed. “Why, that sneaky rat. I suspected he had been raiding the till, but I never thought he spent all of it. That’s why he was stonewalling me on the money.”
As Randall had been speaking, Gerald slowly moved closer to Augusta. When Randall mentioned Duvigney, her attention was diverted for a split second and Gerald reacted. He leaped at Augusta and grabbed her arm. He jerked it away from Rachel’s head and held it against his own body. They wrestled for the gun.
Gerald began shouting at Augusta. “You’re insane, Grandmother! You’re out of your mind! I’ve known it for years, but I was always too afraid of you to say anything. It was you all the time. You killed my parents. You killed my real grandfather. But you are not going to kill Rachel.”
They struggled violently for the gun. Augusta was like a crazed animal, and Gerald had all he could do to control her. Suddenly, the gun went off. Gerald’s body jerked and then with one violent shove, he threw Augusta against the wall. Her head smacked against the corner of a mirror with a sickening sound. She went limp and slid down the wall. The gun dropped on the floor. The men rushed forward. Gerald sank down on the bed next to Rachel, holding his chest.
Daniel grabbed him. “Gerald, Gerald!”
Gerald looked down. The front of his shirt was soaked in blood. Blood was pouring from a terrible wound. He looked at Daniel. “Take care of her, Daniel.”
He smiled and started to fall over. Daniel knelt on the bed next to him and held him up. “Wait, Gerald! You saved Rachel. Let me help you.”
Gerald tried to lift his head. “Grandmother’s killed me, Daniel. I’m going.”
Daniel pulled Gerald closer. “Then you need to give your life to God before you go. You saved Rachel, now let God save you. Just ask him to forgive you, tell him you believe he died for you, quickly Gerald, while you still can.”
Gerald gasped. “Yes, Daniel. Ever since we talked, I’ve known that you were right. I asked Him to forgive me, and I...believe...”
He choked, and a bloody froth colored his lips. “Tell Rachel that for the first time in my life I loved someone, truly and deeply. I...I...loved her...”
And then, as the men watched, it seemed as though a beautiful, ethereal light illuminated Gerald’s face, and he smiled at Daniel. He reached out and placed his hand on Daniel’s arm. “Take care of her, Daniel.”
Gerald’s eyes closed and he slumped against Daniel. He was gone. The men all stared down at him.
Daniel laid him down next to Rachel. He turned to Bobby. “Gerald’s gone. There’s nothing we can do for him. We’ve got to get Rachel to a hospital, now!”
The spell was broken and the men leaped into action. Randall pointed at Rachel. “I’ll go get the car and bring it around to the back. You men carry her down. Hurry.”
Daniel and Jonathan wrapped the blanket around Rachel and Daniel picked her up. Bobby stood in the doorway and looked at Randall.
“Which way?”
Randall nodded toward the hallway. “Down the stairs, turn left, go down the hallway until you see the first outside door. I’ll be waiting there. Hurry!”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Rescued
Rachel opened her eyes. The lights were dim and she was confused, but she could tell she was being carried down
some stairs. Everything was spinning and she had to fight the urge to vomit. Her vision was blurred, but slowly her eyes focused on the face of the one who was carrying her. It was a beloved face, the face of a friend. Slowly, she reached her hand up and touched the face. The unfamiliar beard was soft under her fingers. It was Daniel. His strong arms held her tight, and she felt safe. When he felt her hand, Daniel looked down at her. Rachel could see the love in his eyes.
“Daniel, are you married? You have a beard.”
Daniel smiled and pulled Rachel closer. “What a question to ask me, little one!”
She could see that he had almost laughed. Then he spoke softly. “No, Rachel, I’m not married.”
“How did you find me? Why are you carrying me?”
“We’re taking you to the hospital. You are very sick. Your papa is here.”
Rachel turned her head. It made her dizzy. Her papa’s face swam into view, but it was a different face. It was strong and powerful. It was the face she remembered—a face she had not seen for a long, long time. She could not see Richard Sandbridge, just her precious papa.
“Papa, I’m so sorry. I...”
Jonathan took Rachel’s hand as they walked down the stairs. “It’s not your fault, dochter, it is mine. And when you are well, we will talk. Du leiber Gott will bring restoration. Right now, all I want is for you to get well. Daniel and I and your Uncle Bobby will see to that. Just hold on and stay with us.”
Rachel could see the love in her papa’s eyes. It was the last thing she saw before the world around her faded into darkness.
*****
At the bottom of the stairs, Bobby watched as Jamison turned left and then directed the men to follow him down the hall to the door. They pushed through. The wind and snow tore at them like a flock of furious white birds. They stood in the blast for a moment and then Randall pulled up in the SUV and climbed out. He nodded and Bobby slid in behind the wheel. Jonathan opened the back hatch and Daniel laid Rachel down on the floor. Together, they wrapped the blankets around her and then Daniel crawled in next to her. Randall and Jamison got in behind the driver’s seat and Jonathan joined Bobby in the front. Bobby put the car in gear and they headed for the front gate.
The Amish Heiress (The Paradise Chronicles Book 1) Page 28