“Marcy’s little sister,” she crooned in a sing-song voice. “Little baby girl froze to death, all alone.” She spun to glare at me. “They did it you know. North and Jacobson. They took my Marcy away when they killed Shauna.”
The changing moods were beyond creepy, but I didn’t know what else to do except keep her talking. Where the hell were Adam and the troops? “So Shauna Blaine’s death is what led to—”
Her head bobbed from side to side several times as though her brain was trying to connect the loose synapses. “They took my Marcy away.” Tears ran down her cheeks unchecked.
She giggled, and ice slipped along my spine.
The gun was still in her hand, but her attention had shifted to her internal nightmare. A faint humming sound escaped from her throat and ran ragged along my nerves. I tried to gauge the distance and time it would take me to reach the door, then shifted to make a run for it.
“No running.” Danielle spit the words at me and brought the gun to bear on my forehead.
I shivered, then nodded to reassure her I wouldn’t run—at least not while her attention was focused on shooting me. My mind busied itself trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. She’d killed Jacobson. No doubt about that, but— “Did Jerry Applegate try to run?”
She nodded. “Waste of a man. Blew up my work. Naturally I had to kill him.”
“Naturally,” I breathed. Fear paralyzed my brain.
“Jerry, Jerry, Jerry, Jerry,” she sang. “Kept talking to my Marcy. Taking her away from me.”
Her focus snapped to me. “He kept blowing up my buildings. Talked my Marcy into helping him.” She stared through me. “He didn’t deserve a long, slow, creative death, you know. That’s why I executed him. Shouldn’t have blown up my buildings. Shouldn’t have taken my Marcy away.”
I sucked in a calming breath. Didn’t work worth a damn. The shaking had reached epic proportions, and my hands and feet had gone numb. How the hell was I going to get out of this?
Danielle’s mind had turned inward again. I could tell by the eerie humming sound that filled the space between us. Damn unnerving. I tried to tune it out by focusing on her expression, or lack thereof, and realized that late afternoon shadows had crept into the trailer. Patterns of darkness colored the walls and she’d made no move to turn on a light. Oddly, the shadows helped to calm me.
I couldn’t see the gun clearly—and that meant Danielle couldn’t see me as well either.
Suddenly her head snapped toward the window. “It’s time,” she said, crisp businesslike. “Stand up.”
“Why? Are we going somewhere?”
“A walk.” She grabbed some keys from the desk drawer and moved toward the door, opened it, motioned at me with the gun. “Out.”
Yes. Thank you God. There were a whole lot more escape possibilities out there than locked in the trailer. I got my feet under me and headed for the door. Stumbled a few times, but managed to stay upright. Fresh air never smelled so good, and I inhaled like a woman possessed.
Danielle pulled the trailer door closed behind us. “Straight ahead,” she said, and prodded me in the back with the gun.
I scanned the area for cover, anyplace I could hide. We seemed to be moving toward several large pieces of equipment. Maybe behind one of them, or if I was really lucky, I might be able to get those keys away from her. A getaway in an earthmover. Now that was a plan.
The moon was beginning to shine through the darkening sky, and I could smell the scent of freshly turned earth. My attention focused on the huge yellow piece of machinery and how I could start it with my hands in cuffs.
I should have been paying attention to Danielle.
She pushed me.
Hard.
I tumbled into a deep hole, landed on my back. Pain sliced through me knocking the breath from my lungs. Panic flashed through me, bold and all encompassing.
My head threatened to explode, and something wet trickled down my neck. The fall must have opened the cut on the back of my head. Every bone in my body protested, ached. I tried to move my arms and legs—twitched my toes, and gave up.
Too much effort.
After a few breaths, I rolled onto my side and looked around. Lots of red dirt and not much else. The hole was about eight feet deep and six feet wide.
Looked like a coffin to me.
Bloody, bloody hell.
Did she intend to bury me?
Alive?
Oh, no. Not gonna happen. That was definitely not in my plan, and hers was about to go south. No way in hell was anyone going to bury me alive.
I crawled onto my knees and clawed up the side of the hole until I was standing. Good thing I had the wall of earth for support. I couldn’t stop swaying, and the ground kept shifting beneath my feet. But that might have been the pounding in my head. I slowly tipped my head back. Danielle was standing at the edge of the hole, hands on her hips peering down at me. “That’ll do. Shouldn’t take me long to fill the hole.”
She giggled. All the way to the earthmover.
It sent the mother of all shudders through me, and the pounding in my chest suggested an imminent coronary. If things kept moving in this direction, I’d be dead well before Danielle dropped in the first load of dirt.
Damn, but my head hurt.
The engine on the earthmover kick over and started to plan how I could best use the dirt she dumped into the hole as a ladder to climb out. All I needed was enough of a lift to reach the edge. Then I could pull myself to freedom. There was still the gun to worry about, but first things first.
I sized up the scoop thing on the front of the machine, tried to gauge how many shovels of dirt it would take. A shaft of moonlight glinted off the gun. Danielle had set it down on the seat next to her. Guess she needed both hands to operate the controls on that baby.
Time shifted. The earthmover rotated.
The gun slid to the edge of the seat. Bounced. And then tumbled, caught on the rim of my soon-to-be-grave. A shudder grabbed my muscles and wouldn’t let go.
I tracked the direction of the earthmover, focused on Danielle for a couple seconds, and ran my fingers over the diamond. Pierce’s diamond. What would he do?
Danielle worked the controls, wasn’t paying any attention to me or the missing weapon.
Yet.
I needed to get that gun. Keep her from shooting me. I scrabbled around in the dirt searching for a sizeable rock. There had to be one. My fingers bumped into a few pebbles, and finally, a medium-sized rock. The engine on the earthmover revved.
No more time. I palmed the rock, took aim, and tossed it at the gun. Time slowed. Loaded gun. Dropping toward me. Not my best move. I jumped back. It landed on the dirt with a dull thud. Didn’t fire. The breath I’d been holding whooshed from my lungs and I dropped to all fours, hoping to reach the gun while Danielle was occupied with levers and knobs. My fingers shook as I prepared my mind for the emotional assault that would come with the images. Had. To. Touch. The. Gun.
I grasped it between my hands, and my mind exploded with images and sensations from Danielle. A barrage of pictures flashed through my mind, details of the day she shot Jerry Applegate. Bad. Worse: the deterioration of her mind that spilled through me, contaminating my brain with overwhelming sensations of crazy.
The gun dropped from my hands, and my brain cleared. Okay. One more time. I pressed my palms against the earth, inhaled the solid scent of dirt, and scooped the weapon into my hands. Gripped it, and held on while I used all my willpower to push the images and crazy emotions from Danielle out of my head.
The sound of Danielle’s manic chuckles brought me back to the horrifying reality of my situation. She dropped the first load of dirt on top of me.
I stumbled to the far side of the hole, away from the mound of dirt. Wasn’t going to take too many shovelfuls before I’d be covered.
Clouds parted. Moonlight poured over the earthmover. I prayed the safety on the gun was off. Not that I had a hope in hell of hitting an
ything, but this was one of those or-I’d-die-trying situations.
The second load of dirt tumbled into the hole, covered me in red clay. I jumped back—a bad move. It jarred my bones into breath-taking agony. When I was able to suck in some air and brush the dirt from my eyes, I chanced a look up.
Danielle had backed away to get a fresh scoop of dirt. I used the time to gauge the distance from the pile of dirt to the top of the pit. Too far. I couldn’t reach the rim.
Had to use the weapon.
I tracked the movement of the earthmover. It was coming right at me. The next load would trap my legs. Now, Everly.
I took one of those stances like the TV heroes, gripped the gun, braced myself against the wall of dirt, and focused on Danielle. When she moved into view, I pulled the trigger.
The blast knocked me hard into the dirt wall, pain spiked through the wound on the back of my head, and I crumpled to the ground.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The wail of sirens jarred me awake, and I struggled to open my eyes. Now was so not the time to be out of it. I glanced up. Dizzy. Had I somehow hit Danielle?
The vibration of the earthmover’s engine matched the throbbing in my head. It was perched at the edge of the hole with Danielle slumped over the controls. If it fell on top of me…no. Couldn’t go there.
I fumbled for the gun. Didn’t have a clue how to get another bullet into the chamber, or whatever, but the shaking eased when I held it.
The sirens were louder. Sent pulsing pain through my skull.
The gun slid from my fingers.
There were definitely cars out there. Headlights sliced through the black, doors slammed and there were voices.
Sane voices.
“Woof.”
Merlin! Oh, shit. Did that mean Marcy was out there waiting to pounce on me? No. There were sirens. That meant cops. Or firemen. I’d be happy with either one.
I levered onto my elbow and scanned the dirt walls for some kind of foothold. I had to get out of this pit, see what was going on. I made it to my knees, turned to check out the perimeter of the pit. Merlin was running around barking like a wild puppy.
“Everly?” Adam’s voice cut through the barking. He scooped Merlin into his arms, and the harsh glare of a Maglite illuminated the pit.
I wiggled my fingers at him then collapsed back down giving in to exhaustion and tears.
Adam motioned behind him. “Get me a ladder,” he ordered. At the sound of his cop voice, the knot in my chest released, and I sucked in my first full breath since Danielle captured me.
Adam set Merlin and the light down, then adjusted the beam to illuminate my corner of the hole.
I closed my eyes. Adam wouldn’t let Danielle kill me.
Oh, damn. Danielle. Had I killed her? My eyes flew open, and I glanced at the earthmover. She was still slumped over the controls. Uniforms began to converge around the machine. Shock that I might have killed someone coiled in my belly, and it spasmed with dry heaves. By the time they passed, Adam had climbed down the ladder and cradled me in his arms.
With the help of a fireman and some kind of sling, they got me out of the hole and onto a gurney. A paramedic immediately started checking me over while Adam removed the handcuffs. I grabbed his arm, my fingers limp. “Did I kill her?”
“Chambers?” His gaze flew to the uniforms surrounding the earthmover.
I pushed the images from touching him into the dark hole where I stored the things my fingers saw, but were none of my business. “Danielle Chambers. I shot her.”
“You what? Be right back.” He took off at a jog.
I kept an eye on the activity around Danielle while the paramedics cleaned my wound and checked for broken bones or whatever. Dead people don’t create the kind of havoc that was going on around the earthmover, so I was pretty sure I hadn’t killed her. Some of the tension left my neck and shoulders. I really wanted her to be alive.
When the paramedics finished with me, they put Merlin on my lap, and pronounced me battered and bruised, but not broken. Except my mind. Mentally I was a wreck.
Minutes later they wheeled Danielle to an ambulance and it took off, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Definitely not dead. Uncontrollable shaking racked my body. I hadn’t killed anyone. Relief washed through me, and tears cooled against my cheeks. I swiped at them with the edge of my t-shirt. “Guess I didn’t kill her,” I said to Adam as he strolled up to the gurney and rubbed Merlin’s ears.
“Nope. You didn’t.”
“How’d you find me?” I was ready to move on to other topics.
“When Marcy Blaine confessed to working with Applegate on the industrial demolition, she told us that Chambers had called her. Told Blaine she was following some redhead who needed to be eliminated.”
He slid his finger under my chin and tipped my face up so he could see my eyes. “For sticking her nose where it didn’t belong,” he said through clenched teeth. Then he pulled me into a hug. “And, no, she won’t die. Bullet went into her upper chest and there’s bleeding, a collapsed lung, but she’ll be okay. My question is, how’d you ever manage to hit her?”
I shook my head at him. Big mistake. “Miracle,” I mumbled, holding my head to keep it from shattering. “She won’t be okay, though. She’s certifiable. Killed Jacobson and Applegate. After me, she planned to go after North.”
Adam was jotting down notes at warp speed. “Shit. Busy girl. What else?”
“It all started with Shauna Blaine’s death,” I explained. “But you know that, don’t you?”
He held up his left hand to stop my monologue while he wrote.
Since he didn’t answer, I ignored his plea for time and filled in the silence. “Danielle told me she and Marcy had been lovers for years, that she was crazy jealous when Marcy started her affair with North.”
Adam’s brows scrunched together. “Blaine hated North?”
“Strange bedfellows,” I agreed.
He shook his head. “Must have something to do with the way women think.”
“I saw the images of you, Marcy and Terri North in Danielle’s front yard when I touched you. Sorry about the trespass.”
He nodded. “Yeah. The drama started twelve years ago when Shauna Blaine died on that mountain.”
I started to nod, stopped myself. “That’s what Danielle said.”
“Gives me a har—” red colored his cheeks, and he closed his mouth. “It’s, ah, good when the perps agree on the details.”
One of the cops offered me a bottle of water, and I shot her a grin. “Thanks. I’m parched. Must be all the dirt I inhaled while I was stuck in that hole.” I took a deep swallow and turned back to Adam. “You want to fill me in on that scene at Danielle’s house?”
He shook his head. “Nope. But I never in hell want to be at the mercy of a woman scorned. Terri North has a bitch of a temper.”
“Looked like they were going at it pretty good. What was the deal?”
“Woof.” Merlin interrupted. I’d stopped scratching his ears. “And what’s with Merlin being here?”
“I, uh…adopted Merlin when we arrested Marcy Blaine.”
“That is so cool.” I rubbed my cheek against Merlin’s head, and breathed in his musty, puppy scent.
“Uh-huh. We’ll see.”
I waved my hand at him to get on with the story about Marcy.
“Seems Mrs. North was about done with her husband’s affair, she paid some thugs to have Blaine’s house trashed. Didn’t go over well.”
“Did you put Terri North in jail?” I couldn’t wrap my mind around that one.
Adam rocked back on his heels. “Not exactly. Seems she’s close with a judge. Made a phone call on the way to the station. Judge Kendall met us and escorted Mrs. North home.”
“And Justin North?”
Adam shrugged. “Other than being a first-class bastard, North didn’t commit any crimes.”
“I have a client who’ll be very unhappy about that. And isn’t sexual harassmen
t a crime. My client might be willing to testify.”
“Who…” He squinted at me, then shook his head. “You’re not gonna tell me who.”
I angled my chin at him and wrinkled my nose. “Client. Confidential. But I’ll have her contact you. And Annie said she saw him hit Marcy. Does that count?”
“I’ll talk to her, but with everything attached to this case, it’s barely a misdemeanor.”
That North might get off with nothing but a hand slap wasn’t gonna work for me. I’d find some way…maybe send him a box of chocolates laced with a laxative. “ Did Marcy confess to planning the construction site explosions with Applegate?”
“Yeah. You about done with questions? Mitch is waiting at home for you.”
“You gonna drive me?”
His lips twitched. “Not done with questions, huh?”
“You’re kidding, right?” I slid off the gurney. The ground came up to meet me, and I grabbed for Adam’s arm.
“You don’t get your feet under you, and I’ll drop you at the hospital instead of home.”
“No, you won’t. You don’t dare show up without me. Not when Mitch is waiting.”
“Good point. Next question?”
“What was up with Marcy’s anger? Blowing stuff up is pretty extreme, especially since one of the things she blew up was my car. And me.”
“Blaine was hospitalized for depression after Shauna died. Believed she should have stopped her sister from trying to join TNT. As far as blowing you up, she claims she just wanted to scare you. Thought it would really screw with North’s business if it made the papers. Applegate followed you, set off the explosion.”
That fit. “So she and Applegate teamed up to ruin Jacobson and North.”
“You got it.” He locked Merlin and me in the passenger side of his Crown Vic.
“What’s with North transferring all that money to Jacobson?” I asked as soon as Adam got in the car.
“Jacobson was North’s mentor. He warned North that the “trial” was too much for Shauna. Harbored guilt for all these years because he didn’t stop his protégé from sending her to her death.”
a Touch of TNT (An Everly Gray Adventure) Page 27