The pain in my head pounded as I fought against the metal prongs of Doyle’s Taser. Every time I even considered moving on the backseat, the clicking sound competed with his laughter and the searing pain started once again.
I needed to keep still, to try to get my thoughts together, and to find a way out.
I had no idea where we were going. The car rocked violently as he took corners at high speed. I heard Doyle’s whispered comments into his phone, but I had no idea who he was talking to.
It felt like an eternity but finally the car stopped.
I held my breath as I waited, the night air now cold against my skin as it blasted in the open door. My fog filled brain couldn’t understand what Doyle grunted at me but his hand on the Taser stopped me from resisting.
I stumbled from the car, and he half dragged me toward the building cloaked in darkness, the full moon temporarily hidden behind a brewing storm.
As a door swung open, light poured toward me, causing me to groan in pain.
“Seriously?” I heard a familiar female voice question. “This is the best plan you could come up with?”
“What, you could do better?” Doyle spat, throwing me through the open front door into the building in front of him.
I squinted against the searing pain of the light, desperately trying to put the pieces together.
“I don’t like this Doyle.” Eliza’s pretty face danced in front of me, her brows squeezed in concentration.
“I had to think fast, and this was the best I could come up with.”
“Well, why do I need to be here?” she spat.
“Because you’re as much a part of this as I am,” he growled.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Somewhere safe. Well, safe for us anyway,” Eliza replied, as Doyle tilted his head back with amusement.
“What the hell is going on?” I cried.
Doyle gave Eliza a knowing smile, before he took her place in front of me. “Tilly, I tried to do this the easy way, but you’re nothing if not stubborn.” His finger was firmly on the button connecting me with his Taser.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, scanning for the exits.
Would Noah be looking for me? Had anyone seen us leave? I had no answers, but I knew one thing from watching crime shows, I needed to keep these guys talking in order to give myself more time.
“I tried to get you to leave the farm, but you wouldn’t,” Doyle said. “So, I had to try to scare you off, to get you to go back to Westport. But did you go? No. You see, this is all your own fault.” His tone was low and even.
“So, all of the sabotaging was you?” I squinted.
“Of course.” He smirked.
“But...” Pain shot behind my eyes and I winced. “You’re a police officer. You’re sworn to protect.”
I thought what was genuine regret flashed in his eyes but he quickly blinked and a cold, calculating look came over him.
“Why?” I whispered.
Eliza once again stepped into my line of vision. “Doyle tells me you found something tonight. Something which could destroy everything for us.”
“We’re this close to the old man, Lester, dying,” Doyle snarled, using his fingers to show just how close they were. “We’re his only living relatives. We get his entire estate. Just the two of us.”
“So, you’re related?” I asked, confused.
“Our parents were siblings. Our great grandfather Lester has outlived everyone except us. When he dies, if ever he bloody dies, we get his entire estate.”
“But what has it got to do with me?”
Eliza sighed. “We know who you are. That your grandfather was the illegitimate child of the old man and Matilda.”
Geez, I’d only figured that out tonight.
“We needed to prevent you from ever finding out. That way you have no claim to what is ours.”
“And if you’d gone home and given Dun Roamin’ to the arts society, no one would ever have known,” finished Doyle. “It’s your own fault Tilly. You should have gone when you first got here.”
“How did you know about Matilda?” I asked, returning his stare.
“We found the old man’s letters when we cleared out his crap,” added Eliza. “Every single one Matilda had written to him.”
“But she never told him about the baby,” I argued.
“Yes, she did.” Eliza nodded. “When he wrote to her asking her why she was leaving Littlebrook, she confessed everything.”
“The important thing was you didn’t know,” Doyle said. “But then I saw you at the station tonight when you found the key.”
“You knew what the key was for?”
“No. But I knew Matilda carried it her entire life. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.”
“Why didn’t you try to find the chest yourself?” I asked.
“We did,” Eliza said. “We searched that house high and low and couldn’t find anything it would have belonged to.”
“Then you showed up. It was only a matter of time before you cleared everything out and found the evidence.”
“Guess I’m a better detective than you are then, aren’t I?” I glared at him.
That comment earned me a back hand across the face.
“Stop, Doyle! That’s taking it too far,” Eliza commented, walking toward me.
“Too far? What did you think was going to happen when I brought her here?” He yelled at her.
Eliza paled but held her stare.
“You told me to get the job done no matter what it took,” Doyle continued. “You said if she was dead then the property automatically went to Marshall. The farm would be sold, Matilda’s possessions would be destroyed and we’d be in the clear.”
My stomach clenched at his words. “So that’s what this is really about? Money?” I asked, winding him up to keep talking.
I’d already scanned for exits and had found one behind Eliza. I still had no idea how I was going to get him to release his hold on the Taser and escape, but I was doing my best to think rationally.
“Of course, it’s about money! Do you have any idea how much the old man is worth? Millions! Tens of millions!” Doyle shouted.
“I’ll give you something though, Tilly,” said Eliza. “I never thought you would do it. I didn’t think you’d even last a week. The day I met you at Monty’s I thought we had this in the bag.”
“Glad I disappointed you then,” I retaliated.
Doyle moved close and once again smacked me across the face.
I thought I was going to throw up.
“Cut it out!” snapped Eliza.
“What does it matter?” he laughed. “We’re killing her tonight anyway.”
Eliza’s eyes widened. “I just had a thought. What if Tilly’s will cuts in first. If she dies as owner of the farm then everything will go to her benefactor. Doesn’t it work like that?”
Doyle slammed his palm against the wall. “I don’t bloody well know! All I know is that she needs to go! We’ve gone too far!”
“Noah’s going to know I’m gone,” I sniffed, giving it everything I had not to cry. “He’ll know you took me.”
“No he won’t,” Doyle sneered. “I’ve got a back-up plan. Billy Perkins has been sniffing around you and we all know he has a history of hitting women. I’m going to make it look like he took you.” He gave me a satisfied grin. “Come on, don’t look at me like that. If the bloody dog hadn’t saved you, you would’ve died in that hut already, like I planned.”
Nausea rumbled and I vomited.
“I don’t like this,” Eliza whispered. “I just want the money. I can’t go through with killing her.”
“What else do you suggest?” asked Doyle.
Eliza ran her hands through her long hair and rubbed them all over her face.
Doyle said in a low voice, “Go outside and wait. You don’t have to watch it then.”
Eliza blinked hard and nodded. Then she left the room without even a backward glance.
Any thoughts she would help me out of this disappeared with her retreating back.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“The old bakery. I thought if Billy Perkins was going to kill you, then I at least needed to get all my ducks in a row. What better place than in his mother’s bakery. Maybe she even got in on the action. She hates you after all.” Doyle sure was putting a lot of thought into this plan.
“Won’t the residents of Littlebrook hear me screaming?” I asked, sounding much braver than I felt.
Nausea was swirling, my heart was pounding, and my blood pressure somewhere around the stroke zone.
Doyle moved in close, kneeling in front of me. “Nope. They’re all on the bus trip to Ackwood for that stupid play. Except Billy. He’s home, but I know for a fact he’s out cold after inhaling a nice little packet of the good stuff I sold him. When he wakes up next to your dead body, he’s not going to remember a thing. And as I’ll be the first investigating officer, I’ll make sure all evidence points directly to him.”
I tried to gulp but all my saliva had dried up.
Doyle laughed, the evil sound echoed off the walls of the old bakery. “Ah, this is going to be so much fun. And the residents of Littlebrook are going to love it. The publicity may even bring some new life into the town.”
The door was too far for me to reach, so I once again scanned the room. I knew the inside of bakeries well, I knew it would hold many things I could use as a weapon.
“Well if you’re going to make it look like a woman bashing,” I said. “Shouldn’t I at least be standing? You don’t want the evidence to look like I didn’t even fight back.”
Doyle glared at me before moving ominously close. “Fine,” he spat, grabbing my hair and pulling me to my feet.
I screamed against the pain, but eyed the knife block sitting on the stainless-steel bench as he laughed manically.
He swung his hand backward, ready to backhand me, but I was faster.
Ducking under his arm, I knocked the Taser from his hand, and lunged for the knife.
I’d never had to fight for my life before. As I kicked into fight mode, I screamed against the pain as I pulled the Taser prongs from my neck and held the knife like I intended to use it. I had no idea if I actually could use it but I was prepared to find out.
Doyle laughed again. “Oh man, this is going to be a lot more fun than I thought. Ah, what a night. You know how I’m going to celebrate? I’m going back to Dun Roamin’ and I’m going to kill that bloody dog Clifford.”
Any rational thoughts I had in my head disappeared right out the proverbial window. I dropped the knife, instead grabbing the cast iron skillet. Doyle lunged toward me. When he was close enough, I swung the skillet for his head, my aim perfect as the clang sounded and iron and skull collided.
He staggered for a moment before swiping at the blood which now trickled down his temple. Licking his fingers, he turned to me, murder in his eyes.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
He launched himself off his feet and through the air, lunging toward me but I side stepped him, and he landed with a bang on the draining board.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a bag of flour which I grabbed and swung at him as he turned to face me once more. A smog of flour filled the air between us. He coughed and cursed.
I bolted in the direction of the door on the other side of the room. But Doyle was faster than me. Grabbing my arm, he spun me around, hitting me hard across the face. I stumbled and fell, and he grabbed me from behind, this time using his fist to punch me in the back. Pain seared as I crashed into the oven.
I scurried across the floor toward the door. Doyle was on me, kicking me in the legs and hitting out with his hands. I curled into a ball, unable to defend myself from his strength, when the vision of Clifford filled my mind.
Doyle was going home to find him.
I couldn’t let Clifford down. He needed my help and I had to do whatever it took. I couldn’t let myself die.
Doyle lifted his leg to stomp down on me again, but I reached for anything I could grab onto, finding a meat tenderizer. I rolled onto my knees and swung the mallet, connecting deep in his groin.
His shorts did nothing to absorb the impact, and the pain registered in his eyes before he fell to the ground. Encouraged, I threw everything I could get my hands on at him. The stainless-steel pots, the rolling pin, the muffin trays. Everything clanged as Doyle used his arms to shield himself. I wasn’t giving up. Rounding on the mix master, I pulled the lead from the power socket and lifted it above my head. Doyle attempted to stand, taking his eyes off me for a split second. That was all I needed. With all the force I could muster I brought that mix master down hard across his arm, the impact making a sickening crack. He staggered and tripped on the rolling pin, falling against the stainless-steel table.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I jumped on his back, anger at what he had done fueling my every move. I hit him hard, my fists pounding his flesh, rage blinding me. I was screaming obscenities at him for all the terrible things he had done, when hands grabbed me under the arm pits and pulled me up. I kept kicking out and screaming, thinking Eliza had come back to help, but Noah’s deep voice echoed through my panic.
The Littlebrook police suddenly grew in employees. Sergeant Christopher Jenkins from the neighboring town of Ackwood had rushed to the area, ready to take Doyle into custody and to track Eliza down. I guessed Littlebrook hadn’t seen this much action in a long time. The flashing red and blue lights of the police car reflected off the bus which had pulled up in the main street of Littlebrook, returning everyone from the play. The majority of the town’s residents stood watching the scene in front of them.
Noah held me tight against him as Doctor Drew checked my wounds.
“We have a couple of ambulances on their way,” the doctor said, dabbing at a cut on my cheek. “One for you and one for Doyle.”
It appeared I hadn’t killed him. He was going to have a hell of a headache and would be walking with a limp, but I was okay with that. Even in self-defense I didn’t want to kill him.
Noah looked down at me.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
“When I realized you were gone, I saw Doyle was missing too. Monty said he saw him walking with you toward your house. Only neither of you were there. I had no idea why he would have taken you anywhere, and I started to wonder how he got to the hut fire so quickly. Unless he was actually at the end of our driveway at the time of Gramp’s call, it was pretty coincidental that he was there when he was. So I put a call out on the radio asking if anyone had seen him or his vehicle and Jacob Brown said he’d seen the car outside the bakery. I got here as quickly as I could.” Noah’s eyes clouded. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you faster. Not that you needed my help of course. You seemed to be giving Doyle the beating of his life.”
“Yeah well, he shouldn’t have threatened my dog.”
Noah grinned as his fingers reached out and tucked a few stray hairs behind my ear and I shivered at his touch.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” he asked, pulling his fingers away quickly.
“No. No you didn’t. I just...” Now didn’t feel like the appropriate time to tell him how his touch made me feel. “Is everything in the hut gone?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Noah nodded. “Saves you the worry of cleaning it out.”
Sadness that all of Lester’s letters to Matilda were gone, enveloped me. I wasn’t worried about the birth certificate or the adoption papers which were replaceable, but I was sad for the part of Matilda’s life that had gone with the burned letters.
“Hey, tell me, what were you doing in there anyway?” Noah asked.
Boy, did I have a story for him.