Did that make him incapable of plotting murder? His brain chewed on the percentages as he began going through the mess in the laboratory.
LIBBY swept her hair back into a ponytail. She rarely wore her hair that way because it made her look too young, but she wanted to work a little in the garden. The Drakes grew herbs and flowers in abundance and she planned to do the same when she moved with Tyson to the new house. More than that, she wanted to feel grounded again. She'd spent so much time thinking of Tyson and none concentrating on any of the problems cropping up around them. She needed her mind clear.
"Are you going outside?" Elle asked. "It's getting dark."
"Right now," Libby answered, "I need to feel the soil in my hands just to connect with the earth. I've been floating on air all day, dreaming instead of getting anything done. It makes me feel so silly to be so sappy, but I can't help it."
"You're going to blind somebody with that rock on your finger," Elle teased, handing Libby a pair of gloves. "Cover it up!"
Libby held the ring up to allow the last rays of the sun to shine on the stones. "It's so beautiful. Ty does the most unexpected things. He'll forget everything and everyone while he's working, but when he pays attention, he's entirely focused. I love that and he makes me feel so incredibly special."
"That's because you are special." Elle pulled on a second pair of gloves. "I'm glad you've found Tyson and he loves you so much. I feel it when I'm close to both of you." She picked up the small bucket of tools. "I've never seen a more beautiful ring."
"He's such a surprise, Elle." Libby pulled on the gloves and followed her sister out to the courtyard where the flower beds were. "I never thought I could be this happy, even with everything else going on. I am worried about him though." She looked around her and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I have a really bad feeling I just can't shake."
"What is it, Lib?"
Libby sighed as she jerked a couple of weeds from the ground. "I feel so disloyal even thinking it, let alone saying it aloud."
"There's only the two of us."
"I don't like Sam and I don't think I ever will. It isn't just the fact that he obviously despises me, I can live with that. Sarah didn't like Tyson all that much, although she's really trying now, but Sam puts Ty down in little ways."
"He does?"
Libby nodded. "He's probably been doing it all of his life. Sam was popular in school and is still popular. He's used to being the center of attention and Ty probably was a drag on him. Sam's mother made him hang out with Ty all the time and like all kids he probably made fun of his cousin behind his back. But I don't think he's ever grown out of it. He has such a smug superiority sometimes, as if Ty is clueless and no one could actually love Tyson for anything but his money. I think he honestly believes that and it makes me angry. He actually said that to Ty."
"You don't think Sam genuinely loves Ty?"
"Yes, of course he does. He takes care of him, even bringing him food that Ty never seems to eat, but he has such a superior attitude and it bothers me."
"You've always been so empathic and sensitive, Libby. You hated it in school when one child picked on or bullied another, but many children--and adults--are competitive by nature. They need to feel superior in some way. You don't understand that kind of behavior and you never will." Elle threw several clumps of weeds on the growing pile. "We should have started earlier, it's getting too dark to see, although there's a full moon tonight and that will help."
"I know, it was just that I wanted to be out here with the plants for a few minutes. I thought I'd feel at peace again."
Elle reached out to her. "Sam is Tyson's only family, Libby."
"I know. I know. That's why I feel so guilty. I want to like him, I really do, and I've tried. It's just that I don't think he's really what he presents to the world. He isn't smooth and easygoing." She rubbed her face and smeared soil across it. "I should have guessed he wouldn't be. Neither is Ty. The temper must run in the family."
"Tyson has a temper?"
"Big time. Especially if someone isn't very nice to me. And Sam has it, too. He got so angry with me one day he shook me."
Elle glanced up sharply, storm clouds gathering in her eyes. "He physically shook you? The bastard. No wonder you don't like him. You should have told me. I would have paid him a visit."
Libby burst out laughing. "Talk about a temper. You don't have to visit him, Elle. Tyson did enough damage."
"Did he?" Elle asked curiously. "What did he do?"
"He hit him twice and broke his nose. It was awful." Libby ducked her head. "And I'm ashamed to say I didn't want to heal Sam at first."
"Ashamed? When he shook you?"
"He felt bad afterward. He apologized both to me and to Ty. Come on, Elle. I'll bet Jonas or even Jackson is capable of shaking one of us."
Elle huffed out her breath. "I don't want to think what Jonas might do, but Jackson's reactions to things are utterly primitive. He doesn't care about being thought of as a modern man and I'm certain he beats his chest on a regular basis." She smiled encouragingly at her sister. "Don't worry. You'll find a way to accept Sam, Libby. You're like that. You have a naturally compassionate nature and you're probably very protective of Ty. You're protective of all of us."
"Maybe. I hope so. It's not like I detest Sam or anything," Libby hastened to explain. "I'm sure it wasn't easy growing up with a boy genius several years younger but always ahead of you in class. Ty even admits he embarrassed Sam a lot. You know how boys have such egos."
Elle smiled at her sister. "I'm sure it won't take long before you'll be protective of Sam, too. And you know he'll be coming to all the family functions with Ty, so we'll help mellow him out. Joley always mellows the men out. They drool over her."
Libby winced. "He said a few disgusting things about Joley. Maybe that's what makes me dislike him. Well . . ." she hedged. "I suppose dislike is a strong word. I have mixed feelings. He definitely wants to go to bed with Joley and brag about it to his firefighter buddies."
"You can't be too angry with him over that. Half the men in the world want to go to bed with her. She oozes sex. She can't help it. That's just the way she's put together. She walks down the street and she stops traffic."
"She doesn't like it, does she?" Libby asked shrewdly.
Elle shrugged. "No, but she accepts it. We all have things we don't like but we live with. Joley isn't at all as she appears to the public, you know that. Her public image is just that, an image that sells her music. She's doing the rounds with the late-night talk shows to laugh at herself over this latest write-up. She won't say one way or the other if those pictures were of her, but it will give her more publicity and turn a bad thing into something positive. She knows what she's doing."
"I don't know how she manages with all the lies they tell about her." Libby shook her head. "I'm upset for her, more than she seems to be."
The door banged open and Kate waved to attract their attention. "Libby, you just got a garbled phone message. Something about Irene and Drew and you're to meet Tyson at the Chapman house."
Libby pulled off the gloves. "Was it Ty?"
Kate shrugged. "I don't know, but I assumed so. I asked him to repeat what he said, but he hung up."
Elle and Libby exchanged a long look and both laughed. "That sounds like Ty." They said it simultaneously and that had them laughing again.
Libby stood up and dusted off her jeans. "I hope Irene hasn't changed her mind. This morning, Tyson was so excited. He was absolutely certain he'd figured out why the drug wasn't working as well for adolescents and he was all set to conduct more experiments and write up a report for BioLab."
"I hope he found what he was looking for," Kate said. "If he did, would it help Drew, do you think?"
"He'd need to do a lot of testing before he'd trust a drug he came up with on the general public, especially teenagers, but he looked so excited, almost like a kid with his first bicycle." Libby leaned against the door.
"I remember that look on his face in school sometimes. He'd just suddenly get something and be so eager to try it he couldn't contain himself. And he was always on the right track."
Elle suddenly reached out to hug her. "I'm so happy for you, Libby. You'll always have that, you know, the ability to share in his excitement of discovery. And he'll always be trying to figure out how you do your magic."
"I am happy," Libby admitted. "Who would have ever thought Tyson Derrick could make me feel like this?" She glanced at her watch. "It's getting late. I'd better go check on him. He didn't get any sleep last night. Once he decided he was on the right track he was working." She tossed her gloves into the tool basket and hurried into the house to find her car keys. She hadn't seen Tyson all day and she was eager to be with him. It might be silly if she thought about it too much, but she didn't care.
Libby hurried out to the Porsche and slid behind the wheel, smiling at the thought of how Tyson always grabbed the keys. He'd grown very fond of her Porsche and he definitely had a penchant for driving too fast. Each time he got behind the wheel, he pushed the speed just that little bit more. The next time, she resolved to take the car keys away from him until he could resist the temptation to speed.
She shifted as she came onto the narrow switchback climbing the mountain and as she did so, a shadow slid across the moon. At once her heart jumped and she glanced in her rearview mirror. A vehicle was pulling off the shoulder of the road. She hadn't seen it because the lights were off and it was parked beneath the massive shrubbery growing along the side of the mountain.
Again, her heart reacted, beginning to pound with real fear. The car paced along behind her at a safe distance, but for some reason she felt threatened. Apprehension didn't just creep over her, it hit her hard. Her mouth went dry and she felt panic welling up. Libby increased her speed. Her car was fast and built for taking the curves on the highway. And she knew the road. She'd grown up there. The Porsche should have easily outdistanced the other car, but when she looked in the rearview mirror, it was still maintaining the exact distance behind her.
Libby tried to tell herself her imagination was getting the better of her, but she couldn't convince herself. She debated trying a U-turn and making her way back to the Drake house, but she was only a couple of miles from the Chapman home and Tyson. She glanced in the mirror again and her heart leapt to her throat. The car was moving up on her fast. Too fast.
She fought down panic and forced her frozen body to perform. She had the better car. She wasn't the greatest driver in the world, but she should be able to outmaneuver the other driver until she reached Tyson's home.
"Don't freeze, don't panic," she chanted between chattering teeth as she dropped her hand to the gear shift and stepped on the gas.
The car behind her slid forward, running without lights, the bumper attempting to ram her, but just as it connected, sharply bumping her car, the Porsche sprang forward, pulling away. She felt the contact, her head snapping back, but because she was speeding away, he managed to barely tap her.
A sharp curve was coming up. Libby glanced in her mirror and a small moan of fear escaped. He was staying right with her. She was into the turn before she could blink, tires squealing, as the Porsche raced through the switchback at three times the speed she normally would have driven.
Her hands jerked on the wheel, sending her into the gravel on the shoulder of the road. She screamed as the Porsche went into a small slide heading right for the side of the mountain. Rocks spit into the air, hitting the sides and undercarriage of the car. Libby forced herself not to overcorrect, trusting the maneuverability as she eased the Porsche back onto the road. He was right behind her, nearly on top of her, the larger, heavier car gliding up like some avenging demon. He suddenly turned on his headlights, full blast, shooting them right into her eyes, blinding her.
"You're on a straight away," she reminded herself. "Hold the car steady." Even as the words escaped she was able to see again, and she pressed harder on the gas.
The Chapman house was very close, but it was set on a small knoll by the sea. The turn into the drive was sharp. She was coming up on it very fast. Too fast. She didn't dare miss it. She had no choice but to slow down and the larger car was right behind her. Gritting her teeth, Libby swung the wheel. The tires made a screaming sound and she felt the impact as the bigger car sideswiped the rear. The Porsche went into a spin, over the driveway and onto the lawn. Libby fought for control. Her Porsche hit Sam's truck, jolting her hard as it came to an abrupt stop.
Libby looked wildly around, but the larger car was gone, already down the highway. She sat for a moment, shaking so bad she was afraid her legs wouldn't hold her. Tears streaked her face and blurred her vision. With trembling hands she tried the door. Thankfully it opened and she staggered out.
19
LIBBY forced herself to breathe. She wiped off her tears and looked back at the road a second time, scanning anxiously up and down the highway. She couldn't even hear the engine of a car. Her heart thundered in her ears. There was no noise at all and she should have been able to hear the engine.
The absence of sound galvanized her into action. She ran to Tyson's front door, praying it was unlocked. Yanking it open, Libby stumbled inside, catching herself before she fell. The house was dark and seemed unoccupied. She slammed the door closed and snapped the lock in place before running to the kitchen. "Ty! Sam! Is anyone home? Ty! Where are you?" She was ashamed of the rising wail.
The door to the basement was open and a single light shone from the laboratory.
"Down here, baby," Ty called.
Fresh tears flooded her eyes and she ran down the stairs, banging the door closed behind her. Libby flung herself into Tyson's arms, nearly knocking him over.
Tyson held her trembling body close to him. "What is it?"
"Someone tried to run me off the road." Her voice was muffled, her face buried against his chest. She clutched his shirt with both hands. "I got your call to come here and started right out and he pulled out of the bushes behind my car . . ."
"Wait a minute, Libby. Slow down. I didn't call you. I thought you were going to meet me at the other house."
Libby stilled, turned her face up to his. "I got a message saying to meet you here. Something about Irene and Drew."
"I'm calling the sheriff right now," Tyson said. "If Harry's behind this, he has to be stopped." He gestured with a bottle of colorless liquid he had just pulled from the rubble toward the phone. "I brought the phone down in case you called me."
It was a simple thing, but even in the midst of her fears, Libby felt a burst of warmth for his consideration. He'd probably never thought to remember such a simple thing before. "What is this?" she asked, taking the bottle from him.
Tyson reached for the phone. "I've been trying to gather up everything I might need for the other lab and salvage as much as I could. Everything's a mess. That was on the floor near the other chemicals. It's a wonder the entire house didn't blow up with the compounds I have down here." He hit the phone against the work table. "That's a bottle of methoxyethanol. I was wondering why I bought it." He looked up at her, his expression serious. "The phone's dead, Libby. Damn it. Let's get the hell out of here."
Above them, they both became aware of crackling noises coming from the kitchen. They exchanged a long look of knowledge and dread.
"Is there another way out?" Libby asked. "There has to be another way out."
"Don't panic." Tyson's voice was grim. He went up the stairs, his tread deliberately light. He put his hand against the door and quickly removed it. "He's started a fire, Libby, and this time, I don't think any sprinkler's going to put it out. I can already hear the flames in the kitchen and the door's hot."
"He's burning down the house on top of us?"
Tyson hurried down the stairs to her. "Listen to me, baby.
I have to get Sam out. He's upstairs asleep. He took sleeping pills and he's been out all day. You're going to have to go for help."
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She wrapped her fingers in his shirt and held on. "We should stick together."
He shook his head, sweeping things off his table until he found the small flashlight he was looking for. "You know better." He pulled her over to a small door and handed her the light. "We've used this tunnel to get to the beach since we were little kids. If you run along the beach about a quarter of a mile, there's a path leading back up to the highway. The moon's full, Libby, that means the tides are unusually high, so be careful, don't get out beyond the first line of rocks."
He yanked open the door and pushed her into the narrow tunnel. "Go."
"Wait." Libby felt panic welling up. "What are you going to do? At least get out of the house this way."
"I won't have enough time to get to Sam. Don't worry about me. I know what I'm doing. Hurry, Lib. Get the fire department and the sheriff. Hell, get everyone here." He kissed her hard and shoved her away from him.
Libby hesitated, but he had a look of absolute, determined resolve. She turned and ran down the dark tunnel, clicking on the flashlight to show her the way. The tunnel was dank and musty, mostly held up with ancient timbers that didn't look too sturdy to her. It had to be part of an old smuggler's route, much like the one they discovered beneath the old mill Kate had bought a few months back.
The tunnel led steadily down toward the pounding sea. She could hear the ocean and feel the coolness of the night on her face. As she went down farther, the tunnel was extremely narrow until, as she rounded a bend, it widened into a small cave. Hesitating, she flashed the light over the ground. Her heart leapt in her throat and she stared at the large footprints in the dirt. They were fresh and they were everywhere. She turned to go back, but she heard the distinct sound of heavy breathing.
Libby froze. The breeze drifted to her from somewhere in the interior of the chamber. The draft felt like the sea, salty and cool, spreading out to waft through the tunnel and return to surround her, bringing back a scent she was familiar with. She held her breath, afraid to move or speak, afraid even to think.