Chapter 73

Frances Noonan wrenched her eyes away from the gun and assessed their group, standing in a line at the edge of the cliff. The fog was lifting, and the ocean was visible again, the cliff starkly outlined against the blue. She took a step forward, away from the edge, and Alma Gordon pulled Mr. Glenn forward as well. Mrs. Noonan stood on the far end, then Sarah, Alma, Mr. Glenn and Baby Owen, then Helen and Scott. The man motioned for them to move closer together.

“Isn’t this cozy,” the proprietor said. The wind was loud, and Mrs. Noonan had to strain to hear him.

He waved the gun at Scott. “I thought he might do my dirty work for me. I saw him arrive and was just slipping out the back when you all showed up. I wanted to witness the reunion for myself. Angry husband shoves wife to death over cliff. Or I could help them both to fall, a tragic accident in the fog. It would suit my purposes.”

He shook his head. “Not that I would choose to have a death at my resort. I would never have planned to kill her here. Think of the publicity and scrutiny.”

He pivoted and pointed at Alma Gordon, who shuddered. “And then you came on the scene. I knew I’d have to let you all go on your merry way. Much safer for me anyway.”

He slowly leveled the gun at each of them. “Then the rest of you appeared. And you know about me. Now we’ve got a problem.”

They all stood silently. Mrs. Noonan measured the distance between him and their group.

“You might have to follow one another off the edge, like lemmings. You just couldn’t see the danger in the fog. A heartbreaking end to a vacation weekend. It is plausible.”

Mrs. Noonan’s mind raced. Could they run? Could they jump him? Of course they could, if they could communicate. But he was too far from them for one of them to rush him without endangering the others. And there was Baby Owen. They had to be careful of Baby Owen.

The man regarded their uneven line. She knew he knew they were plotting.

“Don’t try to run. You have no gas.” The proprietor nodded at Mrs. Noonan. “And your car has been incapacitated.” He gestured with the gun toward Helen.

One car. They had Scott’s car. Mrs. Noonan looked at Scott. His hands were clenched. She willed him to stay still a while longer. He looked at her and she gave a slight shake of her head.

“Sit down,” the proprietor said.

Mr. Glenn and Alma Gordon slowly crouched. The others stayed standing.

He lifted his gun to Helen. “Sit down,” he said, and they did.

“Sit, sit, sit,” said Baby Owen.

The proprietor jerked his head toward the sound. Baby Owen popped his head out of Mr. Glenn’s jacket.

“Shh,” Mrs. Gordon said and wrapped her arms around Mr. Glenn and the baby, her body in front.

“You can’t possibly kill us all,” said Mrs. Noonan. “We have a child with us. These people are parents. They have two small babies at home. You can’t kill us all.”

“Kill us all,” sang Baby Owen.