Still uneasy, but feeling a bit more calm than before, Charlotte went inside the house. Just for good measure, she closed and locked the front door.
Retracing her steps, she returned to the kitchen and headed straight for the back door. “Please let Sam be in the backyard,” she whispered.
Just as Charlotte reached for the doorknob, the door burst open. Her eyes widened with fright. Oh, dear Lord in heaven, I need help! Screaming at the top of her lungs, she stumbled backward.
Run, Charlotte! Run!
She wanted to run, but her legs refused to cooperate.
Chapter 19
“Scream all you want,” Toby Russell yelled, slamming the door behind him. Before Charlotte had time to even think past her panic, he locked the door and threw the deadbolt. Jerking back around, he advanced toward her. “No one’s going to hear you.”
Charlotte’s scream froze in her throat. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in California, in custody by now.
“And by the way, I took care of your little security buddy out there,” he continued, “and you’re next if you don’t tell me where those letter openers are.”
Fear, laced with anger, knotted inside her. What had he done to Sam?
“You just couldn’t let well enough alone!” he shouted, his face purple with rage. “I’ve spent years planning this, but oh, no, you had to go snooping into my business. Where are they?” he demanded.
“Wh-what did you do to—to Sam?” she blurted out, her voice little more than a croak.
He stepped even closer. “Where are those letter openers?”
Why hadn’t he answered her about Sam? Charlotte swallowed hard, suddenly afraid of the answer.
“Where?” he shouted.
She couldn’t tell him. Once she told him, he would kill her. He’d have to, to keep her quiet. What she needed was a weapon, something, anything, to defend herself.
Think, Charlotte, think.
In her mind’s eye, she saw the top of the counter behind her. Scattered over the counter were several of Bitsy’s cooking gadgets. That big new hammer-looking meat tenderizer might work. It was heavy enough. Maybe, if she could just keep him talking, buy a little time…if she could just get closer to the cabinet…
“Wh-why should I tell you anything?” she retorted, her voice shaky with fear as she eased backward toward the cabinet. “You’re just going to kill me anyway.”
Fury mottled his face. “I don’t want to kill you!” he yelled. “You weren’t supposed to come back to work this soon. I thought I had time. I’ll do it, though. I’ll kill you if I have to. What’s one more?”
She eased back another step. Almost there. “If you kill me, you’ll never find them.”
“Oh, I’ll find them,” he said, sneering, “’cause, one way or another, you will tell me where they are.”
She took another step backward. Then, quicker than she would have thought possible, he reached out and clamped his hands around her throat. The edge of the cabinet bit painfully into the small of her back. But what good was being near the cabinet if she couldn’t breathe?
At first, she tried scratching at his eyes, but he easily turned his head, dodging her attempts. Then she clawed at his hands, but his hands were like iron shackles. She tried kneeing him in the groin, but he easily pinned her body between his and the cabinet.
“Where are they?” His hands tightened, shutting off her air.
Within moments the edges of her vision turned dark. Just as the darkness closed in, he loosened his hold, just enough for her to breathe again. “Tell me what you did with them,” he demanded.
“Can’t—” she gasped. “Can’t breathe.” When he eased his grip even more, she sucked in as much oxygen as her lungs would hold. With one hand still pulling on his hands, she reached behind her with the other hand, her hand sliding back and forth, her fingers searching and grabbing for anything she could get.
“Where are those letter openers?” he demanded as his hands began tightening around her neck again.
Suddenly, her fingers connected with a hard metal object. From the rough surface, she immediately recognized that she’d grabbed Bitsy’s brand-new cheese grater. It was a flat oblong type with a wooden handle. Praying that she had it turned the right way, she took hold of the wooden handle. Aiming for his eyes and using every bit of strength she had left, she swung her arm upward. When she smashed it into his face, she yanked it down hard, then pushed it upward again.
Toby screamed with pain, released her, and covered his raw, bleeding face with his hands.
She was free, but not for long, she figured. Her eyes swept the room for an escape route. He’d be on top of her before she could unlock and unbolt the back door, and he’d catch her before she could make it to the front door.
The laundry room.
It had a lock on the door, and it was the closest. At least it would buy her some time.
Ducking low, she ran. Behind her Toby was stumbling around, trying to find something to use for pressure to stop his face from bleeding.
When Charlotte reached the laundry room, she slammed the door and locked it. The flimsy lock wouldn’t keep him out for long. She figured that she only had a couple of minutes, at the most, just enough time to call the police. She reached in her pocket for her cell phone. Then what? He’d burst in and kill her before the police could get there.
What she needed was something else to defend herself with. She searched the room frantically, looking for anything she could use. Then she spotted the half-gallon bottle of bleach sitting on top of the dryer. If she remembered right, it was a brand-new bottle. With Toby’s face already raw, the bleach just might do the trick; it would at least buy her enough time to get out of the house, so she could call the police.
On the floor near the washing machine she spied a small plastic mop bucket. Perfect. She uncapped the bleach, then poured all of it into the bucket.
The sudden pounding on the door made her jump. Throwing the empty bleach bottle aside, she bent over and picked up the bucket. With one hand clutching the top rim and the other hand braced against the bottom, she waited.
The pounding suddenly stopped. Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat, and fear and anticipation coursed through her. A second later, the door crashed open. Toby’s wild eyes were filled with fury and hate, and a swath of his face and nose looked like raw hamburger.
Do it! Do it now!
Charlotte swallowed hard and bit back tears. With a firm grip on the bucket and aiming for his raw face, she swung the bucket back, then thrust it forward. The bleach flew out and hit him squarely in the face.
Toby screamed in agony. Clutching his face and still screaming, he fell to his knees.
Wasting no time, Charlotte quickly edged around him. Once she was out of the laundry room, she ran flat-out for the front door. Outside the door, she eased it closed behind her. That way, if he came after her again, he might think that she was still inside the house somewhere.
She tilted her head and leaned close to the door. Even with it closed, she could still hear Toby screaming and cursing inside.
Spurred on by the thought that he’d soon begin searching for her, Charlotte hurried across the porch and down the steps. She was tempted to take off running down the middle of the street, but she’d be in plain sight. He’d be able to see her and come after her. Best to hide and call 911.
Looking around frantically, she searched for some place to hide. She shot a brief, longing look at her van, but without keys, it was useless. She could hide behind it, but she’d still be in the open.
After a moment, she decided that the thick clump of azaleas at the end of the porch was her best bet. As she hurried to the bushes, she shoved her hand into her pants pocket and pulled out her cell phone. Without hesitation and ignoring the scrapes from the limbs, she pushed her way through the bushes, and wedged herself in the small space between the side edge of the porch and the azaleas. Then she dropped to her knees.
>
Charlotte peered through the bushes. They had looked a lot thicker from a distance. Unfortunately, since she could somewhat see through them, she figured there was a good possibility that she could be seen as well.
Too late now. She didn’t figure she had enough time to find a better hiding place. All she could do was hope and pray that, if and when Toby came out of the house, he wouldn’t look her way…if he could see at all after the bleach. Besides, she needed to use what time she had to call the police.
Breathing hard, she flipped open her phone. Her fingers trembling, she tapped out 911. When the operator answered, Charlotte told her, “Please send someone now! A man is trying to kill me.” She’d no sooner finished giving the operator Bitsy’s address than the front entrance door burst open.
“I know you’re still here,” Toby bellowed above her.
In her ear, the operator said, “Ma’am, don’t hang up. Stay on the phone.”
Charlotte didn’t dare answer for fear Toby might hear her. She breathed as shallowly as possible, afraid that the slightest movement would give away her hiding place. Above her, she could hear Toby cursing and heard his heavy footsteps as he stomped from one end of the porch to the other end.
Not far from above her hiding place, the footsteps abruptly stopped near the front edge of the porch. Charlotte held her breath. Could he see her? Had he spotted her?
Suddenly, she heard the sound of running footsteps coming from the opposite end of the porch. Not Toby. Someone else. Then there was a guttural shriek of fury, followed by a thud and a crash. Above her, Toby flew off the porch and landed on the ground within mere feet of her hiding place.
“Take that, you son of a snake! I’ll teach you to mess with me!”
A woman’s voice. A familiar woman’s voice. Charlotte’s eyes grew wide. Samantha!
Then everything seemed to happen at once. In the distance, police sirens screamed, growing louder each second. In front of her, Toby struggled on the ground to get to his knees. Above her on the porch, Samantha let loose another guttural shriek, vaulted off the porch, and ran straight at Toby. Then, with a flying leap, she kicked him in the head.
Toby went down again. Samantha fell to the ground, but rolled to her feet. Then she jumped on top of his back. With one hand, she yanked his arm behind him. With her other hand, she grabbed a handful of his hair and pinned him facedown on the ground.
The ear-piercing sirens suddenly died when several police cars screeched to a halt in front of the house. Officers with their guns drawn poured out of the vehicles.
“Hands in the air,” they shouted. “Get your hands in the air!”
While two of the officers pulled Samantha off Toby, Charlotte struggled to her feet. One of the officers handcuffed Toby, and the other one pulled out handcuffs and grabbed Samantha’s wrist.
“No, stop!” Charlotte shouted as she fought her way out from behind the bushes.
At least three officers jerked guns toward her.
Charlotte threw her hands up in the air. “Hey, I’m the one who called you in the first place,” she cried. With her head, she nodded toward Samantha. “She’s a guard with Lagniappe Security.” Then she nodded at Toby. “He’s the one who tried to kill us.”
Only then did Charlotte notice Samantha’s black eye and swollen cheek. Charlotte frowned with concern. Was that dried blood near her nose?
Out of the corner of her eye Charlotte caught sight of Gavin Brown jogging toward them. Benny followed a few steps behind the detective.
“Hey,” the detective yelled, holding up his badge. All eyes turned his way. “You can let the ladies go.” To Charlotte he said, “And you can lower your arms.”
Benny walked over to Charlotte. “You okay?”
“I think so.”
Gavin Brown took one look at Samantha, and shaking his head, he told her, “You need to get checked out by the EMTs.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped.
The detective shrugged. “If you say so.”
The officers pulled Toby to his feet, and when Gavin Brown saw his face he gave a low whistle. “Ouch, that must hurt, huh?” He turned to Samantha and Charlotte. “Which one of you did that to him?” When neither replied, he said, “Never mind for now, but don’t go anywhere yet. I’ve got some questions.”
Once Toby was taken away, Gavin Brown turned his attention to Samantha, Benny, and Charlotte. Charlotte immediately launched into a tirade. “You told me he was on his way to California,” she yelled. “And where have you been? I tried two different times to—”
The detective threw up his hands. “Now, just hold on. If you’ll calm down, I’ll explain.”
Still breathing hard, Charlotte muttered, “You’d better.”
Taking a deep breath, Gavin Brown said, “I was told that he’d checked out of the hotel, that he’d turned in his rental car, and that he’d boarded the plane headed for California. And he did all of that. Only problem, we didn’t learn that the flight had a short layover in Houston until it was too late. Instead of continuing on to California, he caught a flight back to New Orleans.
“Now, if you don’t mind and if neither of you needs to see a doctor, then you two wait on the porch.” He pointed to Charlotte and Benny. “And you”—he pointed to Samantha—“you come with me.”
Samantha followed the detective inside the house. Charlotte and Benny walked up the steps, then headed for the bench. Once they were seated, Charlotte faced Benny. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “Why haven’t you called me?”
Benny hung his head. “I’m sorry about that, and”—he lifted his head to look at her—“I’m sorry about all of this as well. I did go see Angel yesterday, just like you and I talked about. I told her what we’d found out in Oakdale, but it didn’t make a difference. She still wouldn’t talk. I guess I was so ashamed that I’d failed in the one thing you asked me to do, I just couldn’t face you right then. Especially after all you’ve done,” he added. “And with me dragging you into this mess in the first place.”
Charlotte sighed. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’ve got a feeling that even without Angel’s help, things are working out.”
“Yeah, but I almost got you killed.”
She shook her head. “Stop that. Stop it right now. Besides, I’m tougher than you think. It will take a lot more than that jerk to do me in.” She smiled. “Besides, I had some great backup.”
Benny finally cracked a smile. “Yeah, that security officer chick is pretty tough too.”
“Well, yes—her too—but I was referring to a much bigger ally.” She tilted her head upward, then lowered it again.
Benny nodded solemnly. “Yes, ma’am.”
A few minutes later, Samantha emerged from the house and pointed to Benny. “Your turn.”
Benny went inside and Samantha seated herself by Charlotte on the bench. “May I join you?” she asked.
Charlotte nodded. “Guess so. After all, this is your office,” she added teasingly.
Samantha managed a tremulous smile. “Listen, I just need to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For not doing my job better. For not protecting you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. From where I was hiding, you were doing a bang-up job.”
Samantha shook her head. “It should never have gone that far and doesn’t excuse me letting that snake get the drop on me the first time. He ambushed me while I was making my rounds in the back. Knocked me out cold for a while there.”
“Speaking of which, are you feeling okay now?” Charlotte reached up and tentatively touched Samantha’s swollen cheek.
Samantha shrugged. “A slight headache, but I’ve had worse. I’m just glad that I came to in time to take him out before he found you.” She suddenly grinned. “Of course you weren’t doing too badly on your own.”
At that moment, their attention was drawn to the front door, where Benny sauntered out, a wide grin on his face. With a brief wave to both of them, he ran do
wn the steps and jogged across the front lawn toward a car.
“Wonder where he’s going,” Charlotte murmured.
“Mrs. LaRue?”
At the sound of Gavin Brown’s voice, Charlotte jerked her attention toward the front door.
“Could you come in here, please?” he said.
“Sure,” she answered, still a bit puzzled at Benny’s behavior. She stood, and with an oh-well shake of her head, she turned her attention back to Samantha. “And you, young lady—you go home and put some ice on that cheek.”
Samantha nodded. “Will do. See you around.”
Inside the house, the detective directed Charlotte to the front parlor. After they were seated he said, “Are you okay?” He motioned to her neck. “You’re already bruising up.”
“I’m okay.”
“Good—that’s good. I sure don’t want Thibodeaux or your niece giving me a hard time. So—tell me what happened here today.”
“I will, but first, you never did tell me where you were when I tried to call you. I tried two different numbers and kept getting your voice mail.”
The detective grimaced. “Sorry about that, and I promise, I will explain, but let’s get this other matter out of the way first.”
Charlotte grudgingly nodded, then told him how she’d found the extra letter openers and explained her theory about how they came to be in her supply carrier. “You know? Just before I found Nick’s body, I was in the master bedroom. I always do a walk-through before cleaning,” she said, “so I’d left my supply carrier at the top of the stairs. I remember thinking that I heard a noise, like a creaking stair or something, but dismissed it as just the creaking of an old house. But maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe that’s when Toby hid the letter openers.” She paused a moment. “Of course I brought the supply carrier downstairs with me and left it on the floor near the staircase. He could have planted the letter openers then as well. Anyway, they’re still up there on the floor right where they fell. And just so you know, I didn’t touch them.”
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