Chapter 30
“Make yourselves comfortable in the parlor and I’ll be right back,” Shane said, turning and retreating into the kitchen to fetch his likely poisonous concoction.
Hayley grabbed Danny by the arm. “I don’t have time to explain but whatever you do, do not drink that lemonade.”
“But I’m thirsty,” Danny whined.
“For once in your life, just listen to what I’m saying, okay, Danny? Do not drink the lemonade. I don’t want the kids losing their father while they’re still young!”
Danny’s eyes widened at her last comment and he nodded his head.
Hayley’s phone buzzed and she scooped it out of her coat pocket.
There was a text from Carla McFarland.
Spanky and Dustin just got here.They were at Toby Alley’s house playing video games after school and lost track of time. I told Dustin to go directly home because you were looking for him.
Hayley heaved a huge sigh of relief.
“Everything good?” Danny asked.
“Yes. He’s home safe.”
“Good. Then we can get the hell out of here.”
Shane entered with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. He winked at Hayley. “I brought an extra glass in case you change your mind.”
“We’re going to have to take a rain check,” Danny said.
“Did you find your lost boy?” Shane asked, feigning interest.
“Yes. He’s home with his mother,” Hayley said.
“See? All that worrying for nothing,” Shane said, pouring lemonade into one of the glasses, filling it all the way up to the rim. “Are you sure you don’t want some?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Danny said, furtively glancing at Hayley.
She kept her eyes fixed on Shane. “So tell me about your new book, Shane.”
“What new book?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face.
“The Devil’s Honeymoon,” Hayley said, hitting every word.
There was a flicker of concern on his face.
For a brief second.
Then he got it hastily under control and kept that same bland, insincere, nonthreatening crooked smile on his face.
But he was at a loss for words.
He obviously hadn’t expected to hear that title roll off someone else’s lips.
The Devil’s Honeymoon.
He was fighting to remain unruffled.
But it was a challenge.
Hayley could tell on the inside he was freaking out.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Shane said, standing motionless after setting the pitcher of lemonade down on the tray.
“I saw the manuscript in your lawyer’s office,” Hayley said. “Crystal Collier is representing you, isn’t that right? She’s acting as your literary agent and contract lawyer. At least that’s what she told me.”
She hadn’t told her the client was Shane.
But he didn’t have to know that.
“I’m sure she didn’t . . .” Shane said, his voice cracking.
“She most certainly did. Shane Hardy. The hot new author who was going to be the next Norman Cross,” Hayley said.
Shane just kept shaking his head. “No . . . No . . . she didn’t . . .”
“The funny thing is I had seen that title before. The Devil’s Honeymoon. On the cover of the manuscript Spanky McFarland brought over to my house just over a week ago.”
“You can’t copyright a title. Lots of books have the same title,” Shane said weakly.
“You’re right,” Hayley said. “But you see, when Crystal left her office for a few minutes I took a moment to skim your book. Imagine my surprise when I read a few pages only to discover it was the exact same story with the exact same characters, all with the same names, as Spanky’s book.”
“The boy was here in this house. He could have gotten his hands on my manuscript and made a copy for himself to claim as his own,” Shane spit out.
“Yes, but your mistake was thinking that Spanky was a loner, a misfit, with no friends. But he and my son are best buddies, and my son has been a witness to Spanky’s creative process every step of the way, for months, long before you even thought to pretend you were working on your own book.”
“But I made him promise he hadn’t—” Shane stopped himself.
“Shown anyone else the book? You can’t blame the boy for lying. I think I’d say just about anything if it meant getting my hero to read my work.”
“This is all just a huge misunderstanding . . .” Shane sputtered.
“Does Mr. Cross know what you’ve been up to?” Hayley asked.
“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we go ask him?” Danny said, stepping toward the staircase.
Shane snapped out of his shock to throw his body in front of the steps, blocking Danny’s path.
“I told you he’s not feeling well. He’s resting right now and cannot accept visitors!” Shane cried.
But Danny was bigger and bulkier and Shane was no match for him. Danny flung him to the side like a straw-filled scarecrow and mounted the stairs.
Shane watched helplessly as Hayley pushed past him and followed Danny up to the master suite.
Danny was already inside the bedroom when Hayley caught up with him.
He was standing in the middle of the room just staring at the bed.
Hayley came up on his left and stopped next to him.
The room was empty.
The bed was made.
There was no sign of Norman Cross.
They heard Shane huffing and puffing behind them as he entered the room.
Danny whirled around and barked, “Where is he? You said he was resting. What have you done with him?”
Hayley gasped at the sight of Shane Hardy, standing in the doorway, gripping a semiauto rimfire pistol in his right hand.