CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
The hair on Sarah’s neck prickled. Her hopes of talking Thomas out of doing anything drastic were quickly fading. “I promise. I won’t say anything.”
“That’s a promise you can’t keep. You’re a nice girl. It will eat at you and eventually come out. I can’t take that chance.”
She tried to keep him talking, but he didn’t take the bait. Instead, he went over to Bailey and used his handkerchief to pick the figurine up from the floor. He wiped it clean and then, wrapped in his handkerchief, carried it to where she sat. She didn’t know what to do. If she lunged at him, he’d strike her with the figurine and if she sat still, but he grabbed her again, he’d see her loose hands.
She nodded toward Bailey. “What about him?”
Thomas turned his head for a moment, and she pressed her hands closer together so if he pulled her arm, she could keep them from coming apart. “It’s a shame. They’re going to think you got a lucky hit in and killed him.”
She sat up straight and calmly stared him in the eyes. “No one is ever going to believe I killed him.”
“You’re right. Especially if you’re here to tell them.” He glanced around the cabin. “Considering how hard Cliff worked on this place, it’s a shame it’s going to burn with Bailey and you in it.”
“What?”
“With all his toys, there’s plenty of tinder and gasoline around here. It isn’t going to be too difficult to start a fire.”
“Fire only works in books. I don’t think that’s the way to go here.”
He laughed. “I always said you were spunky. And what, in your opinion, is the way to go?”
Sarah stalled. She looked out the window, hoping the view of the bluff and water would give her an idea or at least a final moment of peace. What she saw almost made her gasp. Cliff was standing on the porch. Sarah turned her head away from the window, hoping Thomas wouldn’t look in that direction, but she spoke as loudly as she could. “Well, I’m a cook of convenience. I never try to make a dish from scratch by myself. I always get help. I think you’re in the same position.”
“I don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Only that going it alone doesn’t usually work well. Remember that night we had the planning meeting, I was going to whip up brownies from a mix, but Marcus and Jacob made those delicious cookies and petits fours while Emily and Grace worked together on the puffs. What I served was far better than if I’d tried to do it alone.”
Sarah was afraid to look toward the window, but she hoped Cliff had heard her meandering thoughts and specific message to call for help through the open door.
“That’s it. Get on the floor.”
When Sarah didn’t move, Thomas reached for her hair again. As he bent toward her, Cliff burst through the door and knocked his brother away from Sarah. Thomas twisted free and swung at his brother. Cliff took the punch and staggered sideways. When Thomas went to swing at him again, Sarah lunged forward, using her hands and body weight to topple the leg he was braced on out from under him. She fell in a heap on the ground. Thomas stumbled and tripped over Bailey. Cliff charged and pinned his brother as a siren was heard in the distance.
Sarah smiled. Not only did Cliff listen well, he was a pretty good guy.