by Cindy Bell
“We'd like to see it now, please,” Vicky said and crossed her arms with disdain.
“It's right over here,” Stan explained. As they walked towards the driveway, Vicky whispered to Ida.
“Looks like we'll finally have some proof we can use. Maybe they’ll be able to arrest Poppy and we’ll have all of this wrapped up before Sarah even misses us.”
“I don't think so,” Ida said as she slowed to a stop.
“Huh?” Vicky asked and then turned to look ahead of her. Parked in the driveway was the dusty red car. Vicky looked from it, to the man who was standing beside the car.
“It's in the trunk,” he explained and popped the trunk. Vicky stood frozen with fear as she stared at the man. She had suspected that the man who had killed Arthur was the same person who had been driving the car. Did that mean that Stan was the killer?
“Well, then you should just drive it down to the station,” Vicky suddenly said. “We're not police officers after all.”
“I know that,” Stan said in a darker tone. From under the clipboard he was holding he produced a gun. He must have drawn it while they were walking to the car. Now he was wielding it with complete confidence. “I do my best not to get involved with law enforcement, but sometimes they just happen to get in the way. You two ladies however, don't have badges, do you?” he smirked. “So, I think we'll be just fine.”
He pointed his gun in the direction of the trunk. “Hop in please,” he said.
Vicky looked over at Ida. She knew that if she screamed, Poppy would hear her. But what would Stan do if Poppy came running out of the house? Would he shoot her on the spot? Would he shoot them? It was too much of a risk to scream.
“In the trunk,” Stan repeated and took a step closer to Ida. “If either of you scream, I will shoot.”
“You first, Vicky,” Ida said as she gritted her teeth. Vicky knew that Ida was trying to decide whether she could successfully knock the gun out of Stan's hand. Her aunt had more up her sleeve than just a strange fashion sense, she was also a black belt, she had taken down many foes. Vicky was nervous that her aunt might make a mistake however and get herself shot.
“No, Aunt Ida,” Vicky said sharply. “You first.”
Ida glared at her with frustration.
“Get in the trunk!” Stan barked and released the safety on the gun.
Vicky cringed and stepped towards the trunk. Ida glared at Stan, but since he had the gun trained on Vicky she wasn't going to take any chances by attacking him. Vicky stood nervously beside the trunk. It was empty inside, and actually quite roomy, which she was grateful for. But she had to wonder if it would end up being her coffin. She reluctantly climbed inside. Ida climbed in after her. Once the two were in the trunk, Stan produced a roll of duct tape. He tore off a length of it and handed it to Vicky.
“Put it on,” he instructed as he gestured towards her mouth, and then did the same to Ida. Vicky put the tape lightly over her mouth. Stan reached down and smoothed it tight across her mouth. Vicky's eyes widened at the sensation of not being able to breathe through her mouth. He did the same to Ida.
“Turn over,” he instructed.
Vicky and Ida managed to wiggle onto their stomachs.
“Hands behind your backs,” he commanded.
Reluctantly, both women complied with the request. Stan grabbed Vicky's hands roughly and crossed them behind her back. He wrapped duct tape around them. When he grabbed Ida's hands she kicked her feet wildly and flailed in an attempt to escape him. She was grunting behind the tape that covered her mouth. Stan waved the gun in front of her face so that she could see it. Ida was instantly still. Stan taped Ida's hands and then slammed the trunk closed.
Chapter Ten
Vicky and Ida were immersed in darkness. Ida began mumbling, though the tape prevented her from actually speaking. Vicky tried kicking at the trunk. Ida squealed and shook her head, indicating that Vicky should stop. Vicky stopped, and soon realized that if Stan heard them kicking he'd open the trunk and tape their legs too. She was very still as she heard voices outside the trunk.
“My lawyer gave me confirmation over the phone,” Poppy explained. “I can sign anything you need. If we can get this done today, that would be great.”
“Perfect,” Stan said and the voices began to fade away. Vicky could only assume that the pair were walking away from the car. She gritted her teeth. She wanted to bang on the trunk to alert Poppy, but she didn't want to put the woman at risk. She also wasn't entirely convinced that Poppy was not in some way involved. Ida grunted quietly and began squirming in the trunk.
Vicky huffed as Ida kicked her square in the back. The sharp heel of her shoe was certain to have left a mark. Vicky's eyes widened at the thought. She wriggled around until she had the point of Ida's heel against the duct tape on her hands. Ida got the idea that Vicky was trying to convey. She stuck her foot out straight while Vicky pushed the tape hard against the heel. It took a few tries but finally she felt the heel push through. She wriggled the tape back and forth on the heel until enough of it ripped that she could pull her hands apart.
Immediately Vicky reached up to her mouth and tore the duct tape free. She had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming in pain as the tape pulled at her skin. She twisted in the trunk until she found Ida's hands. She released them from the duct tape. Ida tugged at the tape on her mouth but was much gentler about removing it. Once the two women were free, Vicky reached into her pocket for her cell phone. She knew there wasn't time to call for help. If Stan came back and found them unbound in the trunk he wasn't going to hesitate to shoot them. What they needed to do was get out of the trunk. Vicky turned on her phone and used it as a flashlight.
“Vicky, are you okay?” Ida asked when she finally got the tape off her mouth.
“I think so, are you?” Vicky asked as she glanced over at her.
“I'm fine,” Ida replied. “But I'd be better if you had taken the hint and gotten in the trunk first so that I could attack that little punk…”
“Aunt Ida,” Vicky said with a groan. “Let's just get out of here, then we can argue.”
“There should be a release somewhere,” Ida said as she felt around her side of the trunk.
“If it has one,” Vicky said with a grimace. She swept the light from her phone around the underside of the trunk closest to the back seat. She noticed a small black lever. “I think I have found it,” Vicky said and reached for the lever.
“Vicky wait,” Ida hissed. There were voices outside the trunk.
“I just have to get one last paper,” Stan was explaining. “It'll only take a minute.”
“Okay let's just get it wrapped up,” Poppy insisted. “I can't wait to leave this place behind. Can you believe that the local police actually had the nerve to practically accuse me of my own husband's murder?”
“What a shame,” Stan replied. “That must have been very offensive.”
“It was,” Poppy replied. “Maybe Arthur and I didn't always see eye to eye, but I didn't want him dead.”
“I'm sorry for your loss,” Stan replied. “It's quite tragic.”
Vicky felt sick to her stomach as she listened to Stan expressing sympathy to the woman he had made a widow. Now she knew that Poppy wasn't involved, but that didn't make anything better. Stan was going to have to get rid of them to keep them quiet.
“Here it is,” Stan said and Vicky heard a car door slam shut. This time the voices did not fade away. Vicky had no way of knowing if Stan and Poppy had gone back inside, or if Poppy was signing the paper on the trunk of the car.
“What do you think, Aunt Ida?” she asked as she shone her cell phone in her aunt's direction.
“Once the car starts moving, we lose our chance to escape,” Ida said. “If we get out now, we might be able to escape before he even notices we're gone.”
“If he's not just outside the car,” Vicky whispered back.
“It's our only chance,” Ida replied. “Go ahead, try the lever.�
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Vicky reached out and grasped the lever. She said a silent apology to Mitchell, just in case she didn't make it to the wedding, then she tugged the lever. The trunk latch released. With a gentle shove Ida pushed the trunk open a few inches. Both women waited a moment, to see if the trunk would be thrown open. Then Ida pushed it open enough that they could fit through. Vicky looked out through the opening. She didn't see anyone nearby. But the front door to the house was wide open. Vicky put her finger to her lips and Ida nodded.
Carefully, they climbed out of the trunk. Vicky crouched down low, hoping not to be spotted by anyone inside the house. Then she grabbed Ida's hand and started to tug her away from the car. Ida leaned slowly on the trunk. She pressed it down until it latched closed. Then she let Vicky lead her to the shed. They ducked down behind it. Vicky called the emergency police line while Ida kept watch on the house. Vicky was making the report when she heard the engine roar to life. She knew that Stan was driving away.
“Poppy,” Vicky hissed. “I hope she's okay.”
“I can see her on the porch,” Ida said quickly. “She's all right, but Stan is getting away!”
“Should we chase him?” Vicky suggested.
“Do you have a gun?” Ida asked with a shake of her head.
Vicky frowned. “I gave a description of the vehicle to the dispatcher. Hopefully they will catch him before he gets too far.”
“Well, at least the murder is solved,” Ida said. “There's no question that Stan is the killer.”
As they stepped out from behind the shed, Poppy spotted them. She hurried down the front porch and across the driveway towards them.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. Her eyes lingered on the duct tape that still clung to one of Vicky's wrists. “What's going on?”
“Stan murdered your husband,” Vicky said as she tugged the duct tape off her wrist. “We just escaped from the trunk of his car.”
“What?” Poppy gasped. “Let me call for help,” she said quickly.
“We've already done that,” Vicky said. “For now, you should stay safe in your home. If you see Stan's car, just dial the emergency number.”
“I will,” Poppy agreed.
“Hurry Vicky, we need to get to the police station,” Ida said and grabbed her hand. The two ran the distance to Vicky's car. Vicky drove swiftly down the road. She could see a few patrol cars zipping down the road in the opposite direction. She hoped that they were onto Stan. But there was another concern that was rising in her mind.
“What if he goes to the inn?” she blurted out as she took a hard right. “What if he goes after Sarah or the boys?”
“Gun it,” Ida commanded her. Vicky did as she was told, and the car roared down the road in the direction of the inn. She had never driven so fast before. When she skidded into the parking lot the tires kicked up quite a bit of gravel. As Vicky rushed from the car towards the entrance of the inn, Ida followed after her, still hobbling in her heels. Vicky lunged through the door of the lobby.
“Sarah?” she called out desperately. “Rory, Ethan?” she yelled. Vicky's heart dropped as she realized that she had forgotten all about the boys being at the play gym.
“Vicky,” Sarah said with ice in her eyes as she walked out of the restaurant towards her. “Did you forget about something?”
Vicky looked over at her guiltily, but before she could defend herself, two more voices chimed in from the stairs.
“Vicky!” Mitchell's mother and sister cried out.
Vicky lowered her head. Every time someone said her name it set her nerves on edge.
“Vicky,” Henry called out from the doorway that led to the kitchen.
“Wait! Please! Everyone!” Vicky growled. “There is a murderer on the loose, and we all need to make sure that everyone is safe!”
“Is that so?” Mitchell asked as he sauntered into the lobby from the restaurant. “Vicky?”
“I'm sorry!” Vicky announced and waved her hands in the air. “I'm sorry, Sarah, I should never have left the boys at the play gym. I'm sorry, Mitchell, I shouldn’t have looked into the murder by myself. Most of all I'm sorry, Mae-Ellen and Maisy, that you haven't gotten to experience what the Heavenly Highland Inn is really like because I've been too busy trying to hide all of this from you. But now we have to keep an eye out for this man,” she pulled up a photograph of Stan on her phone that she had asked Bobby to send through and showed it to everyone. “If you see him, don't speak to him, just call…”
“Me?” Mitchell supplied and took the phone out of Vicky's hand.
“What are you doing home?” Vicky asked as she looked into his eyes.
“I came home because Bobby managed to contact me and let me know that the deputy sheriff had been murdered,” he stated.
Vicky stared at him for a moment, then she turned to Sarah. “Sarah, the boys?” she asked. “Are they okay?
“Vicky, they are fine,” Sarah said with a slight frown. “The play gym has my number, and they called me when you didn't pick the boys up.”
“I'm so sorry,” Vicky murmured. “I just got caught up in all of this. We couldn’t get hold of you and I thought I could handle it and…”
“Shh,” Mitchell said and hugged her close. “You've been through a lot. Sit down. Mom, can you grab her some water?” he asked as he looked over at Mae-Ellen.
“Coming right up,” Mae-Ellen said and disappeared into the restaurant. Vicky sank down into one of the plush couches in the lobby of the inn. She sighed as Mitchell sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. She felt much better once she was nestled against his chest.
“And Vicky, you don't need to worry about us,” Mae-Ellen said as she returned with an ice cold glass of water. “That's what I've been trying to tell you this whole time. You don't need to impress us. Honey, if you've got running water and a roof that doesn't leak then I think you're doing just fine. Besides, all that really matters is how my son feels about you. It seems pretty clear to me that he's in love.”
“I am,” Mitchell said with warmth and kissed Vicky firmly. When he pulled away he looked sternly into her eyes. “But if you ever send me away somewhere with Sheriff McDonnell and Rex again I will never forgive you.”
“Where is Rex?” Ida asked with a smile. “I've got a story to tell him.”
“He's waiting for you at your room,” Mitchell said. “He wanted to surprise you.”
“Maybe I'll surprise him instead,” Ida grinned and hurried up the steps.
Vicky couldn't help but laugh at the shock in Mitchell's eyes. She hugged him tightly. “I'm just glad you're home,” she murmured.
“Me too,” he agreed. “Everyone's out looking for Stan. We'll get him locked up soon enough.”
“Uh, excuse me, Vicky?” Chef Henry asked. He had been waiting patiently for his turn to speak.
“Yes?” Vicky asked and looked over at him.
“The cake is ready,” Henry smiled. “Would you like to see it?”
“Is that bad luck or something?” Maisy asked.
“Only if you knock it over,” Henry laughed. “Come see, I need the bride's approval.”
Vicky was relieved to escape the tension of the moment. She stepped into the kitchen and was immediately blown away by the sight of the cake. It had an intricate looped design that encircled each of the three layers. Each layer was decorated with an assortment of icing flowers that looked so real, Vicky wondered if she would ever be able to look at a plant again without thinking of cake. The gasps of approval from Mae-Ellen and Maisy let her know that they liked the cake, too.
“Oh Vicky, it's perfect,” Sarah said longingly as she looked at the cake. “Do you remember my cake?” she asked.
“I thought we were never supposed to speak of that?” Vicky asked with a laugh.
“We really shouldn't,” Sarah cringed at the thought and shook her head. “Shame that Henry wasn’t around then.”
“I was inspired by this beautiful place that you two lo
vely ladies run together,” Henry said kindly.
“And me, don't forget, me,” Ida spoke up as she entered the kitchen. “Henry, that cake looks like it could be on the cover of a magazine. The question is, does it taste like it?” she snagged a finger full of frosting from the edge of one of the cakes.
“Aunt Ida!” Sarah and Vicky shouted at the same time.
“Woman! Out of my kitchen!” Henry shrieked and picked up a rolling pin.
“What?” Ida asked innocently and smacked her lips. “It tastes delicious.”
“Run, Aunt Ida,” Vicky said with a grimace as Henry rounded the butcher's block with the rolling pin in his hand.
“Eek!” Ida bolted out through the side door and across the gardens, with Henry chasing after her.
Vicky and Sarah could barely breathe between squeals of laughter. Mae-Ellen and Maisy looked horrified.
“Don't you think someone should help her?” Mae-Ellen stammered out.
“It's okay,” Vicky managed to assure them between giggles. “Henry wouldn't do anything to hurt her.”
“Well, at least it's not a frying pan,” Mae-Ellen giggled.
“Oh yes, Vicky,” Maisy said with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “If you ever want to see Mitchell terrified, pick up a frying pan.”
“Do tell!” Vicky said hopefully.
“No you don't!” Mitchell warned and glared at his sister. “I know all about the baby pictures, too, and let me just remind you, Maisy, that for every embarrassing story you have about me, I have ten about you,” he raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” Maisy said quickly and blushed.
“I'd love to hear those, too,” Vicky laughed.
“Stick around long enough and you will,” Mitchell grinned. “Why don't you and Mom go meet Dad and Connor for dinner,” Mitchell suggested. “I think Vicky needs the evening off.”
“Off?” Vicky asked with wide eyes. “Are you kidding? I have a wedding to plan!”
Before Mitchell could answer, John, Connor, and Phil walked into the kitchen.
“Hi everyone,” Phil said and then looked directly at Sarah. “You're a beautiful sight,” he breathed out and walked over to her. As he wrapped his arms around her. Sarah kissed his cheek.