Two Birds with One Stone (A Marsden-Lacey Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Sigrid Vansandt

  Helen and Martha were in a death grip holding on to each other behind the desk. They looked frantically at one another. Helen shook her head in a frenzied manner to indicate she wasn’t about to stand up.

  Martha yelled out, “You must be crazy if you think we’re going to stand up so you can shoot us!”

  “Dear, if I wanted you dead right now, you would already be so,” the weirdly feminine voice said. “I needed to get your attention. Don’t make me come over there or I’ll be happy to place my next bullet somewhere to make you more compliant.”

  Martha considered the offer for a second, but then thought better of it.

  “Okay. We’ll stand up but give us a moment. Helen is hurt.”

  Martha pointed to the latch on the bookcase shelf.

  With a nod to Martha, Helen jumped up and grabbed the latch. Martha pushed the door and they scrambled through as two more gunshots exploded behind them.

  Martha slammed the secret door shut and looked for something to jam it. Someone was working the mechanism from the outside and cursing them in a muffled voice. Helen pointed at an old floorboard propped up against the wall. Martha grabbed it and wedged it between the door and the wall.

  Helen asked, “Which way do we go?”

  They looked around. There was a passage with stairs going up on the right hand side but there was also one that went behind the stairs and appeared to stay on their present level.

  “I don’t want to go up. We might not be able to get down again and then out of the house. Let’s take the one going behind the stairs,” Martha said. “Wait. I want to wrap your arm first.”

  Martha took off her T-shirt and ripped it along the bottom. She tied the make-shift bandage around Helen’s arm. She pulled it snug, putting pressure on the wound and slowing the bleeding. Then she quickly put her shirt back on and they headed along the left-hand route.

  They scurried down the tight passage coming to several potential exits. Martha tried each door handle eagerly only to have their hopes dashed when, one after another, the doors were either locked or appeared stuck from years of disuse.

  After about five desperate minutes of walking, they noticed the passage was increasingly filled with bulk food items stacked on both sides. They must be nearing the kitchen. Then the moment they had been dreading arrived. There was only one more bend before the end of the passage.

  “She might be waiting for us,” Martha whispered.

  Helen didn’t move. “Let’s go back the other way then.”

  “What if she’s back in there somewhere following us?” Martha pointed down the dark passage behind them.

  “Oh dear God. We’ve got to get to a phone.”

  Martha tried to get her mind to focus. “Okay. Okay. Okay.” She pressed both hands against her forehead. “Let’s get down on our knees and I’ll peek around again. If it’s definitely the kitchen, there’s surely an exit. Get down and stay down till I say otherwise.”

  Martha, with her head low to the floor, edged one eye around the corner. At the end of the passage, she could see a lit corner of the kitchen. No one was in the corridor so she motioned for Helen to follow her and they crawled towards the opening and the feeble kitchen light.

  PIERS MADE IT THE ENTIRE way to Leeds from Healy in less than an hour. He pulled up to the front door of his solicitor’s office and jumped out of his car, running up the stairs.

  He was absolutely ecstatic because his solicitor’s paralegal called saying there was a breakthrough in his child custody case. The woman on the phone asked him to come for an appointment that afternoon.

  Casey, the firm’s receptionist, gave him a big smile when she saw him come through the door. “Hello, Mr. Cousins. How are you today?”

  “I’m doing well, Casey, thank you. I hope I made it in time to see Phillip. Drove like a madman to get here,” Piers said with a bright smile.

  Casey looked slightly confused but she checked her computer and asked Piers to please give her a moment.

  Piers sat down.

  Phillip Westmorland’s voice boomed through the back hallway. Phillip and Piers attended Oxford together. Afterwards, they spent three years traipsing around Australia and California hitting every surfing beach they could find.

  “What’s this all about, Cousins? Heard you came all the way to Leeds to take me to dinner? You’re not my idea of a hot date though,” Westmorland said with a laugh.

  Piers looked perplexed. “I’ll take you to the Ritz, if you want. You deserve it.”

  Westmorland shrugged egotistically. “Well, I am one hell of a guy.”

  “Damn right you are. I got the call from your paralegal and she said you had a breakthrough in our suit today. What happened?” A thrilled Piers waited expectantly for the good news.

  Westmorland’s faced screwed up into that intense, penetrating attorney’s stare. “Come with me, Piers.” He guided Piers into his office and offered him a seat, asking Casey to bring them something to drink.

  “I’m sorry Piers, but there’s no change in our suit. Who called you? What did they say, exactly?”

  Piers sighed. It was like someone punched all the air out of him. For a brief second he was angry but he bit his lip and answered, “Uh, she said she was your paralegal and you needed me to come for an appointment this afternoon.”

  “Give me a moment, Piers.” Westmorland picked up his desk phone and called his paralegals.

  Over the next five minutes, Westmorland spoke with every paralegal in his office. They all denied calling Piers. He thanked each in turn and hung up.

  Both men considered the situation quietly and then Westmorland spoke.

  “Piers, it occurs to me that someone wanted you out of your house today. I think you should call the police. Sounds like a burglary setup.” He offered Piers the telephone on his desk. “Better have it checked out.”

  Acutely angry, Piers picked up the phone and dialed the Marsden-Lacey police station. Constable Cross answered.

  “This is Piers Cousins and I think it may be necessary to have an officer go over to Healy and check things out. I received a call from someone pretending to be from my solicitor’s office requesting that I come to Leeds. The appointment was bogus.”

  Constable Cross replied, “You’re in Leeds? Odd. Chief Inspector Johns is waiting for you at The Grange, Sir. I’ll call the Chief and he’ll return your call. What is your number?”

  Piers gave his mobile number to Constable Cross and hung up. He stood and made his way to the door.

  “I’ve got to get back to Healy,” he told Westmorland.

  “Don’t worry, Piers. You’ll be hearing from me about the suit. I’m playing tennis next week with Judge Sutherland. He makes me play three brutal sets and then lets me buy him an expensive dinner. It’s painful but effective.” Westmorland shook Piers’ hand in farewell.

  Piers ran down the stairs and jumped into his Jaguar. Between Leeds and Marsden-Lacey, he chose to ignore every speed sign. He had one purpose: get back to Healy in time to stop a thief.

  Chapter 36

  JOHNS WAS AT THE GRANGE. Not a soul was about except a crow sitting in one of the mulberry bushes, cawing at him. His cell phone rang. It was the station. He hit “accept.”

  “Cousins is where? He thinks there’s a burglary happening? Yeah, I understand, Cross. I’ll call him.” Johns ended the call and quickly dialed the number for Cousins’ mobile phone. He motioned for Constable Waters to get out of her vehicle and come over to where he was parked.

  Piers’ voice came through the line. “Yes, this is Piers Cousins.”

  “Cousins, Chief Inspector Johns. I’ve got a lot of questions to ask you. I’ll meet you at your home and I’m bringing another constable. What time can you be there?”

  “Twenty minutes,” Piers said and then he asked, “Chief, why were you waiting for me at The Grange today?”

  “Your personal secretary phoned to tell me I couldn’t have an appointment with you today because you had a meeting at The
Grange. I wanted to stop by for a chat.”

  “Personal secretary? I don’t have a secretary. Were you talking to someone at my house?”

  Johns thought about the call and looked at the “recents” log in his phone. He read the number to Piers.

  Johns could hear the strain in Piers’ voice. “I don’t recognize the number. A woman called me around noon to tell me my solicitor needed to see me in Leeds. I dropped everything … Oh Bloody Hell! Helen and Martha. They’re at Healy. I completely forgot. They may be in danger. I forgot the girls were meeting there to go over my library.”

  Johns flipped a switch on his dash turning on the blue flashing emergency lights. He said he was on his way and hung up.

  Leaning out through the window, he told Constable Waters to follow him and to not let Sam get out of the car once they arrived at Healy. With excellent car-handling skills, Johns accelerated until his vehicle was practically flowing like liquid metal through the narrow, rainy roads leading to Healy.

  MARTHA COULDN’T SEE THE ENTIRE kitchen from her vantage point. She turned to Helen. “If she’s out there and sees me, let’s turn around and run back down the passage. She might follow us but we could hide in these passages for days.”

  Helen was looking white-faced but she nodded her consent.

  Only a few lights were on and the room was deathly quiet. Martha’s only choice was to look around the corner. As she peeked, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

  “Get up.” A rough voice above her demanded.

  A small circle of cold metal pressed against Martha’s neck and an electric shock of fear seared through her body. She stood up, staring towards the long kitchen work tables and gas ranges.

  The rifle barrel pushed her out into the room under an overhead light.

  “Where’s the other one?” the woman’s voice demanded. “Come out, come out little mouse,” she sang in a weirdly, childish sing-song tone. Then quickly shifted into, “or I’ll kill your friend.”

  Helen stood up and moved out of her hiding place. She faced their assailant but wasn’t able to recognize the woman standing in the shadows.

  The tall kitchen windows were dark and streaked with rain. As a lightning bolt ripped across the sky, it illuminated the dimly lit room in blinding flashes of light revealing for a few seconds the figure and face of Mrs. Thyme.

  “You? But why?” Martha asked, completely baffled.

  The normally tidy and professionally dressed housekeeper of Healy House was wearing a green waterproof hunting jacket opened at the neck, outdoor boots and thick gloves. Her grey hair was no longer in its usual tight bun. Pieces of her hair were still caught in hairpins at her nape, but most of it dangled in stringy wisps around her face and shoulders.

  With her foot, Mrs. Thyme pressed an electric switch under the steel work table she stood behind. A row of utility lights came on illuminating the metal surface and casting a beam of light directly on the top of her head. She motioned for them to move over in front of the large walk-in freezers.

  “That’s better. I can see your pretty faces.” She leveled the rifle at them again.

  Martha could tell by Thyme’s handling of the gun that she was comfortable with it in her hands. Her face was mostly in shadow due to the way the light hit only the top of the wide-brimmed felt hat she wore.

  Mrs. Thyme said, “I don’t have a problem with you, Mrs. Littleword, but Mrs. Ryes has to go. I’ve worked too hard to make a home for Emilia’s child and I won’t share it with another woman. Emilia’s child needs a home and a mother, not another person to ship him off to a boarding school.”

  “I don’t want to come between Piers and his child,” Helen said.

  Mrs. Thyme shook her head. “That’s what they all say, but then they show their true colors. Most of them are like Lana Chason. She would have been bored with a child underfoot. I got rid of her though. Now, get in there.” She motioned toward the walk-in freezer.

  “I think I’d rather not,” Martha said, trying to keep her talking. “You owe us an explanation other than you think Piers has a thing for Helen.”

  Mrs. Thyme laughed ruefully. “I don’t owe you a thing.” Then she lowered the gun barrel to right above Helen’s head and fired.

  The blast exploded above them and ricocheted around the kitchen, making Helen and Martha grab each other in terror. Nature, not wanting to be left out, discharged a stream of lightning across the nighttime sky, followed by a terrific boom of thunder.

  PIERS, JOHNS AND DONNA FOLLOWED each other down Healy’s long drive. Martha’s car sat forlornly in the drive. As everyone emerged from their vehicles, the storm broke above them. A streak of lightning crackled across the sky and simultaneously they heard what sounded like a rifle shot.

  “Did you hear that?” Piers yelled at Johns over the rumble of thunder that immediately followed.

  Johns heard the shot, and he knew the stakes had changed. “Waters! Come with me,” he shouted over the storm. “Tell Sam not to get out of the car under penalty of death. You,” he pointed at Piers, “stay here with the boy.”

  “Like hell I will. I’m coming with you.” Piers bolted towards the front door.

  Donna and Johns followed Piers into the hall where the fire was burning low. They were soaked from the lashing rain. Johns took his phone out of an inside coat pocket and called the station. He requested two constables come immediately to Healy.

  “The shot came from the back of the house. What’s back there?” he asked Piers.

  “Mainly a conservatory and the kitchen.”

  “What is the fastest way to get to the back from the outside?”

  “Outside entrance to the kitchen and conservatory. Go out here,” Piers pointed to the main entrance, “and circumnavigate around to your right. Can’t miss it. One’s glass and the kitchen has an old red-brick chimney attached to it.”

  Piers then turned to Donna. “We’ll take the scenic route.”

  He motioned for her to follow him. They headed for a door under the massive oak stairwell in the Hall.

  “Let’s meet in the kitchen,” Johns said as he headed out into the storm.

  BORED AFTER FIVE MINUTES ALONE in the police vehicle, Sam had run out of buttons to push. He rifled through Donna’s purse but she only had ten pounds which he thought made her kind of pathetic. He didn’t bother to swipe it.

  Sam considered his entertainment options and then it hit him. What if he was an action hero? If he helped catch the thieves, he might get out of jail for performing an act of good citizenship. Probably get his picture in the paper, too. Penny would have to sit up and take notice.

  Right about then a rare opportunity or maybe providence landed in Sam’s lap. His phone rang. It was Penny. He nearly dropped the phone trying to accept the call.

  “Hi Sam. Saw your picture. You look so nice,” Penny cooed.

  Sam could hardly believe his ears. Donna was right. He decided to go for the goal. He lowered his voice and tried to imagine what Michael, the other constable at the station, would sound like talking to his girl if he were about to go into the line of fire.

  “Hey Penny, can I call you back?” Sam asked in the lowest register of his voice. “I’m out working with the police on a burglary case. They’ve got some armed gunmen and I’ve got to help take these guys down.”

  Then to add effect, Sam yelled, “I’ll be right there, Chief!”

  To Penny, he said, “Got to go. I’ll call you.”

  As he hung up the phone, he knew what he had to do. Sam got out of the car in the pouring rain and did his best Dirty Harry impersonation while walking toward Healy’s front entrance.

  HELEN AND MARTHA HUDDLED AGAINST the freezer’s cold, steel surface after the lightening strike.

  Mrs. Thyme said, “Get in there. No one will be coming home tonight. Piers is in Leeds and Agosto thinks he has a family crisis in Spain. Sarah got the night off to be with her boyfriend. So it’s just us girls. I’ll find you in the morning. It will be a
terrible shock. We’ll all be so sad. Get going!”

  Martha opened the door and a blast of frosty air coiled around her. Utterly helpless, she walked inside with Helen behind her. They turned around to see the door shut with a terrible finality. They were in complete darkness.

  “Tell me you have a pen light?” Martha asked.

  “I don’t.” Helen’s words were barely audible with the humming sound from the freezer droning above them.

  The cold was insidious. It wrapped around them, making their flesh constrict. The darkness and the occasional cracking sounds from the crate Helen found to sit on was becoming intensely oppressive.

  Martha, wearing only a T-shirt, started to shiver. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms while Helen felt the wound on her arm to see if it was still bleeding.

  “I bet she’s gone,” Helen said through chattering teeth. “Do you remember the day we were here and Agosto shut himself in the other refrigerator? Thyme said then that he could get out because there was an emergency latch on the inside.”

  Martha swung around and felt for a latch. In the dark she couldn’t find anything that might be a latch. Nothing. She threw herself against the door, pounding it with both fists, yelling, “I need a break today!”

  To their horror, there was a click sound and the door slowly opened. As a crevice of light seeped into their dark, icy cave, they saw a young, handsome man with a goofy smile on his face.

  “Hey, you want out of there?” he asked in an easygoing manner.

  It took a second but then Sam and Martha recognized each other.

  “You,” Martha said, drawing out the word.

  “You?” Sam answered, cringing.

  Sam didn’t have time to run because Martha grabbed the boy and gave him a huge, albeit cold, bear hug. She refused to let him go until Helen pried her arms free with statements like, “that’s enough, Martha,” and “the kid is probably scared.”

  Sam took it all with surprising grace.