The tires began to spin in what must have been the mud of the recently irrigated field. Dave stopped the car and snatched up his gun again. “Take your seatbelt off!” he demanded.
I unlatched it, and he threw open his door. He grabbed a fistful of my jacket and said, “Come out my side. Now!” I had time only to get my feet up on the seat before he started dragging me by the fabric of my jacket out of the car, toward him.
I grabbed his arm, trying to wrench myself free, but he was too strong. I fell onto the muddy soil, but with one arm he pulled me to my feet and got a hammerlock around my neck, squeezing my body against his to use as a shield.
A couple of the police cars had followed us into the field. They now pulled to a stop, the high beams of their headlights shining on us.
A third car pulled up then. The driver rolled down the window and spoke into a bullhorn. “This is Sergeant Newton, Mr. Paxton. Release Mrs. Masters and throw down your weapon immediately.”
The other officers, two to a car, had gotten out of their vehicles and trained their guns on us as well.
Dave was completely outnumbered. With my back pressed tightly against his chest, I could feel his panic-stricken breathing. I thought I could feel his heart beating as well, but that might have been my own.
His forearm was putting so much force against my neck that I could hardly breathe. With both hands I tried to pry his arm farther away from me, but he was so strong I felt like a rag doll. He continued to back away slowly from the police, dragging me with him.
“Drop your weapon and put your hands up!” Tommy again ordered.
“You can’t shoot me through her!” Dave called back, his voice high-pitched and maniacal.
“Can’t breathe!” I said, though I wasn’t really choking. My only hope was that he would realize my value to him would be lost if he did succeed in strangling me.
He lowered his hold on my neck to my collarbone instead. As he did so, I finally regained my footing and remembered a defensive move from my son’s karate classes called “a Superman.”
Giving it my best effort, I thrust both arms and my upper body forward with all of my might, suddenly and forcefully bending forward at the waist.
Dave, caught off guard, immediately lost his grip on me. I flopped on my stomach onto the hard earth, my arms absorbing much of the impact.
“Don’t shoot!” Dave immediately screamed. “Don’t shoot! I give up!” Behind me I heard a soft thud that I assumed was Dave’s gun dropping to the ground.
Two police officers came forward, shouting instructions to Dave. Another officer helped me to my feet and got between me and Dave.
Tommy called, “I’ll take care of her.” He came forward, grabbed my arm at the elbow, and half carried me to his patrol car. He all but stuffed me into the backseat and got into the front seat, slamming his door shut. “Molly, you are personally responsible for every white hair on my head!”
I leaned forward and. sank my face into my hands. “I made a bit of a tactical error back at the meeting,” I murmured. “I never should have taken such a stupid risk. I don’t know what I was thinking. It will never happen again, I swear.”
“If only I could believe you.”
“I got in over my head, Tommy, and nearly got myself killed. You saved my life. Thank you.”
“Shut your door.”
I did as ordered, and watched as a pair of officers escorted Dave in handcuffs to another vehicle.
“See if we can get out of here,” he said under his breath. He put the car in reverse and backed all the way to the road. As soon as the other patrol cars made it back onto the asphalt, Tommy got on his radio and said that he was “taking the hostage home,” and that he’d “get her statement there.”
We drove in silence. I was shaking horribly by the time we reached my driveway, where a familiar BMW was parked. Stephanie and Lauren were talking to Jim on the front porch. Lauren and Jim raced toward us. Stephanie remained on the porch, watching.
“Honey, are you all right?” Jim asked as Tommy and I got out of the patrol car. In the lighting from our motion detector, Jim’s face looked pale. So did Lauren’s. “Stephanie called us to see if you’d gotten home all right. None of us knew where you were!”
Jim pulled me into a hug before I could respond.
“What happened?” Lauren asked, her eyes darting between mine and her husband’s.
“I got taken hostage, but I’m fine now,” I answered as Jim released me from our embrace. I glanced toward Stephanie, who was still standing on my front porch. She was making a big show out of fidgeting with the fabric of her skirt, as if trying to remove a particularly persnickety piece of lint. “Can I tell you what happened in a minute? I’d like to speak to Stephanie first.”
At the mention of her name, Stephanie strode toward us. Lauren and Jim exchanged glances, then Lauren said, “Tommy? Can we go on inside and have you fill us in?”
The three of them went inside the house.
“Well, Molly,” Stephanie said with a toss of her head, “as you’ve gathered, I called your house, and Jim said you hadn’t gotten home yet. Knowing you and your sense of direction, I figured you’d gotten lost.”
“Lost? Between Carlton Central and my house?”
“I put nothing past you.” She averted her eyes. “And anyway, I owe you one for helping Jenny. Not that you are all that deserving, after your ridiculous and ill-thought-out matchmaking efforts regarding Tiffany.”
“I’m fine, Stephanie, and it’s all over. Dave Paxton is under arrest for both murders.”
She nodded. “I’m glad to hear that justice has been served. It’s about time.”
“Would you like to come in? Jim’s probably already offering everyone a glass of wine. Can you join us?”
“I can’t. I need to get back home to Tiffany. She got a little worried about you when she overheard my phone conversations with your husband and Lauren.”
“Stephanie, I really appreciate your driving out here to check up on me. Thank you for caring.”
“Oh, please.” She gave her head another haughty toss and muttered, “You’ve pushed your luck far enough for one day, Molly.”
She got back into her BMW and backed out of my driveway. Halfway down my cul-de-sac she stopped and honked the horn. I obliged and came toward her. She rolled down her window, gave me a chilly look of appraisal, then said, “You’re welcome.”
With my eyes misting, I smiled at her. She merely shut her window and drove off.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Leslie O’Kane also writes under the pseudonym of Leslie Caine. She considers the incident in which she was taken hostage to be the start of her “life in crime.” When the robber clobbered her with a shotgun to make her stop laughing, she learned that a sense of humor can be dangerous. Leslie lives in Boulder, Colorado.
Dear Readers,
I hope you have enjoyed my book. If so, I hope you will want to read my other books in the Molly Masters series. Especially for dog lovers, you might also enjoy my Allie Babcock series. I am currently in the process of writing a radically different style of book—a trilogy of thrillers for young adults, which I anticipate having available as eBooks in July of 2013.
If, however, my writing style doesn’t appeal to you, I hope you are at least having a nice day. Thank you for reaching the end of my book even so.
As I am writing this, my website is being redone by my wonderful Web Designer, Maddee James. Please visit my site at LeslieOKane.com.
Thank you so very much for reading my book and supporting my career. You have my deepest appreciation, and my warmest wishes always.
Yours sincerely,
Leslie O'Kane
eBooks By Leslie O’Kane
DEATH COMES eCALLING
DEATH COMES TO SUBURBIA
DEATH COMES TO THE PTA
DEATH OF A GARDENER
DEATH COMES TO A RETREAT
DEATH ON A SCHOOL BOARD
DEATH AT A TALENT SHOW
PLAY DEAD
RUFF WAY TO GO
GIVE THE DOG A BONE
WOOF AT THE DOOR
THE SOUL SHIFTERS BEGINS: Jake Greyland, A Short Story
THE SOUL SHIFTERS: A Novel
Coming Soon:
ECHOES OF SOULS
SHADOWS OF SOULS
Writing as Leslie Caine:
DEATH BY INFERIOR DESIGN
FALSE PREMISES
MANOR OF DEATH
KILLED BY CLUTTER
FATAL FENG SHUI
POISONED BY GILT
HOLLY AND HOMICIDE
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Unnamed
Death at a Talent Show (Book 6 Molly Masters Mysteries) Page 23