“You killed her?” Though she’d suspected it, hearing it confirmed filled her with grief. She would never have that reunion she’d dreamed of. Her eyes burned and she fought the tears. She had to keep it together to outwit him.
“She laughed at me,” he said. “What is it with you tinkers? You jump from one man to the other. She said she wanted me, then she decided to go back to her husband. No one leaves a Kavanagh.”
Over his shoulder, she saw lights sweep across the driveway. A truck on big tires pulled up outside. In the flashes of lightning, she saw a man jump out and help a woman down from the other side. Grady and Patricia. Would they help her? At least someone could tend to Liam.
Barry seemed oblivious of the truck and its occupants. His feet slid forward a few more inches. “We’ll have a wonderful life, Alanna.” His voice held a plaintive appeal. “I’ll make sure Ceol is a household name. We will fill this house with laughing children. I’ll give you everything a woman dreams of.” He held out his arms. “Come to me, sugar.”
Alanna could no more stop her head from shaking in a no movement than she could stop her retreat. His smile faltered, and his eyes narrowed to slits of gleaming malice. He dropped his left hand but held the knife up in his right.
“I see,” he said slowly. “You’ve made your choice then.” He began to walk toward her with clear intent.
Thirty-Three
The front of Liam’s shirt was soaked with blood, and his vision swam as he regained consciousness. He managed to sit up with his hand plugging the knife hole in his chest.
He coughed and blood spurted from the wound. Not good. It might have nicked his lung because he found it difficult to breathe. He had to get to Alanna though. That madman would kill her. Struggling to his feet, he grabbed the towel Alanna had dropped and wadded it up, then pressed it over the hole in his chest.
His vision blurred, and he feared he might collapse again. He couldn’t allow that. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to move toward the living room. The phone was in there, and he could call for help. Staggering through the doorway into the parlor, he focused on his goal: the telephone that sat on the stand by the sofa.
When he reached it, he dialed 9–1–1 and got a message to hold. Probably the switchboard was lit up with calls relating to the storm that was raging outside. The wind hadn’t reached its full fury yet, but it would soon.
He left the phone connected and staggered back toward the stairway. He had reached the entry when the front door opened and the wind blew two figures into the house. Patricia and Grady stood dripping in front of the door. Grady reached back and slammed the door shut.
Patricia was staring at him with horror. “What’s happened?” she asked in a faltering voice.
“Quick, you’ve got to help Alanna. Barry will kill her!” Liam turned and pointed. “Up there.”
Grady frowned, his expression doubtful. “We’d better call you an ambulance.”
When Grady didn’t move, Liam started for the stairs himself. “The phone is still connected to emergency dispatching. Get the police out here.” He had to help Alanna. There was no time to waste.
Patricia put her hands to her face. “Not again,” she moaned. She started after Liam. “Grady, call for help. I’ll handle this.” She grabbed Liam’s arm and helped him up the steps.
Liam’s chest burned, and he found it difficult to drag in enough oxygen. Aware he was slowing her down, he pulled his arm free. “Go on. Hurry! I’ll catch up. You have to help her.”
It was only as she nodded and hurried toward the stairs to the ballroom that he realized she might not be friendly to Alanna. He took a tighter grip on himself and forced his legs to move faster though his chest felt it would burst into flames at any minute. Grabbing the banister, he dragged himself up the final flight of stairs.
When he reached the ballroom, he heard Patricia cry out. “Barry, no!”
Liam stumbled over to where she stood and brushed past her. Alanna . . . Where was his wife? He spotted her to the left of the door. Barry was approaching her with the knife in his hand.
Barry glanced at his mother. “She is going to leave me, Mother.”
Patricia’s face was white, and she held out her hands to her son as she stepped between him and Alanna. “Not again, Barry. I can’t protect you from this one. You have to put down the knife.”
Barry’s face twisted in a snarl that made him unrecognizable. “I’m your son! You don’t even like her. Why would you protect her?”
“Let’s go on a nice long vacation,” Patricia said soothingly. She approached her son with her hand out. “Give me the knife, Barry.” She was only a foot away from him.
“No!” he screamed. With his left hand, he shoved her out of the way and leaped toward Alanna. His mother stumbled back, then went down onto her knees.
Liam tried to tackle him, but the pain in his chest exploded. He tried to jump but only managed to leap three feet, so he flung out his hand and grabbed at Barry’s arm. His fingers snagged Barry’s shirt, and the man jerked it away.
Barry threw out his arms and pinwheeled. His stumble jerked him to the right of Alanna. Her frozen stance changed, and she blinked, dispelling Liam’s notion that she couldn’t move. Her eyes narrowed on Barry. She took a step back and swung her fiddle up in an arc that caught him under the chin. His head snapped back and he reeled away. The knife spun out of his hand and clattered across the floor to where Liam lay.
Liam retrieved it. That was his blood on its tip. It could have been Alanna’s next.
Liam wiped the knife on his jeans and stared at Barry, who was out cold. “Good aim, Lanna,” he said. He regained his feet and stumbled toward Alanna. She threw herself against his chest, a painfully wonderful embrace. “Are you all right?” he whispered against her hair.
She nodded though she was sobbing. “We have to get you to the hospital.”
“I wouldn’t turn it down,” he said, struggling to breathe. He was going to pass out again if he didn’t sit. He stuck the knife in a belt loop.
Alanna guided him to a chair and helped lower him into it. He glanced up to see Patricia staring down at her son, her face white. “Thank you,” he said to her.
She tore her gaze from Barry with obvious reluctance. “He’s always been obsessed with Deirdre,” she said. “Even when he was eight or nine, he’d sit for hours and look at her picture.” She glanced at Alanna. “When he brought you home, I knew it was about to begin again. I wanted to drive you away, keep him safe. The police will take him away.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t stand it.”
Liam had no sympathy to spare for the older woman. She’d aided and abetted her son’s crimes. He drew in another agonizing breath and his vision blurred again. He put his head between his knees for a few moments, then straightened when Alanna spoke.
“He tried to kill you,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I mean the bomb. Barry did that.”
Liam closed his eyes and shook his head.
“What about my sister?” Alanna asked Patricia. “He told me he killed her when she was going to leave him.”
Patricia’s sobs tapered off, and she lowered her hands, then fished in the pocket of her slacks for a tissue. She wiped her eyes with it and slowly nodded. “I didn’t realize he was dangerous until then. I came home and found them, much like today, only I was too late. Neila was already dead.”
“He stabbed her?” Alanna gave a soft sob. “I’ll never see her again.”
Liam wanted to go to Alanna, comfort her, but the pain in his chest grew more agonizing. Spots danced in his eyes. He couldn’t pass out. He couldn’t leave his love. He pushed away the pain and managed to stay conscious.
The trembling wouldn’t stop. Every time Alanna thought she had control of it, the shakes began again. She grabbed her battered fiddle, knowing that having it in her hand would calm her. “What did you do?” she asked Patricia.
“What could I do? I couldn
’t let the police take him away. Not my only child, my son.”
Alanna studied the unrepentant face of the woman in front of her. Only a few lines at the corners of her eyes betrayed her age. Patricia had been pampered and coddled all her life. She was the type of woman who shielded her eyes from the brutality in the world, yet when she’d discovered her son was a murderer, she’d allowed it to go unpunished.
“Barry said Neila’s body was with nature. What did he mean?” Alanna asked.
Patricia’s coloring turned a little green, and she gave a delicate shudder. “He threw her in the pond.”
The gator. The mental image overwhelmed Alanna. Her beautiful, laughing sister disposed of in such a brutal way. Neila would never laugh again, never feel the sun on her face.
She was going to be sick.
Alanna bent over and heaved. She coughed as the acid burned her mouth. Liam was there beside her, supporting her, wiping her mouth with the tail of his shirt and murmuring condolences.
Alanna clutched his hand for strength and kept hold of her fiddle in the other one. “You say you tried to drive me off. Why would you help me at all?”
“It wasn’t for love of you, believe me.” Patricia put her tissue back into her pocket. “I knew it would keep happening, over and over. I couldn’t go through it again.” She glanced at her unconscious son. “I thought the medication would control his fantasies, but it obviously didn’t work. I shall have to tell his doctor.”
“The prison doctor will be the one to tell,” Liam said.
Patricia’s abstract expression melted to horror. “Can’t we come to an agreement? I’ll pay you whatever you like to say nothing to the police. I’ll put Barry into the hospital until he’s well.”
“I know why the medicine didn’t work.” Grady spoke from behind them. “It was Dad’s fault.”
Alanna turned to see him enter the ballroom. His orange hair was droopy and damp, and his blue eyes were tired.
Patricia stared him down. “What are you talking about, Grady?”
He swallowed, but his gaze held steady as he fixed her with a challenging stare. “I saw him changing out Barry’s pills.”
She gasped and took a step back. “That’s a lie! Richard would never do such a thing.”
“I asked him what he was doing.” Grady looked down at the floor, then back up again. “He said he couldn’t have Barry’s mental illness passed on to any children. He thought he’d let Barry do what Barry always did, then be committed.”
Her lip curled. “And you’d inherit. You were in on it, too, weren’t you?”
He shook his head. “Of course you’d think that, but no. I told him it was wrong, and I wanted nothing to do with it. That if he kept it up, I’d walk away and never come back.”
“And why would you do that? You’re only here for what you can get,” Patricia said.
His smile came Alanna’s way. “Alanna, you’re the only person in this house who has treated me like a real person. I was rooting for you to leave Barry and get out of this house of secrets.”
Alanna caught a breath. He’d tried to help her in his own way. There was more depth to him than she’d thought.
“Are you the reason Richard died?” Patricia demanded of Grady. “You argued, didn’t you? And he had a heart attack.”
A flush washed over Grady’s face, then faded away, leaving him pale. “We argued, yeah. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t let him go forward with it.”
“You killed your own father,” she accused.
Tears stood in his eyes. “I didn’t kill him. He had a bad heart. What kind of father would do what he did?”
Alanna heard a sound behind her and turned to see Barry lurch to his feet and pull a gun from a holster on his ankle. He waved the weapon in the air. “I heard all that. This place is mine and no one else’s. You can die with the rest.”
Alanna stared down the barrel of the gun as he brought it around toward her. His face was twisted with rage and hatred. How had she ever thought this man cared about her? “Please, Barry. Put the gun down.”
He gestured to the door. “All of you, outside. We’re going to make a visit to the pond. I can play the grieving widower well. The poor aristocrat who lost everything in the storm.”
“Let us go, Barry. It’s over. This will never work.”
“Oh it will work beautifully.” He gestured with the gun. “All of you, downstairs. Stay close together. Make one wrong move, and I’ll shoot.”
Patricia reached a hand toward her son. “You can’t mean me, Barry.”
His eyes were cold as he looked her way. “You drugged me all these years. I’m done being told what to do.”
Grady stared at his half-brother. “Why would you want to kill me? I tried to keep Dad from hurting you. We can handle this together. I’ll back up your story.”
Barry laughed and waved the gun in the air. “I’m not stupid, Grady. Now go!” He stepped away from the steps. “Go slow, all of you.” He caught at Alanna’s arm as she started past. “Not you, Alanna.”
For a moment, she thought he was going to let her go, but he pushed the gun in her ribs. “If any of you run, I’ll shoot her. Jesse, I know you don’t want her hurt, so it’s your job to keep everyone else in line. You go first.”
The hard pressure of the metal barrel against her ribs made her wince. She glanced at Liam and wished she could help him. His face was pasty, and his breathing labored. She feared he’d never make it.
He gave her a thumbs-up and went slowly to the stairs. Holding onto the railing, he started down the steps. Patricia scowled at Barry but followed close behind Liam. Grady shuffled after them. The three were spaced a step apart. Alanna glanced at Liam. He still had the knife in his belt, but she wasn’t sure he had enough strength to use it.
Barry marched Alanna to the stairs and followed his captives. She tried to think of how she could be disarming him. All she could do was sidle down the steps and watch for an opportunity to avert whatever he had planned.
The group reached the hallway. Liam stumbled once as he led them along the curving path to the staircase to the first floor. Alanna started to go to him, but Barry jerked her back against him. She put her hand on her belly. Somehow there would be a way out of this. Her baby was depending on her for life.
Liam reached the foyer, then leaned against the wall. Alanna expected him to go sliding to the floor any second. His face was paper white, and his eyes were glassy.
“Help him,” Barry barked to his mother. He nodded at Liam who closed his eyes.
Patricia started to shake her head, then evidently reconsidered when Barry’s eyes narrowed. Huffing, she grabbed Liam’s arm before he could sink to the floor.
“What are you going to do to us?” Alanna asked. If she could keep him talking, maybe they could figure out how to be getting the gun away.
“Out there!” He nodded to the front door. “While the eye is going over.”
Alanna hadn’t noticed the quiet, but she heard it now: the sudden absence of wind, rain, and thunder.
Grady stumbled to the door and opened it. He held it open for his stepmother to help Liam out to the porch. Barry prodded Alanna forward with him. “I’ve got the door,” he told Grady. “Go on out. But no funny stuff.”
The scent of ozone and moisture rushed over her face when she stepped into the yard. Overhead the clouds swirled around the edges of a blue sky. The effect made her dizzy. The barometer would be low. Maybe that accounted for the way she struggled to breathe. Or maybe it was not knowing what Barry planned.
Barry motioned them toward the lake. “That way.”
Having flooded their banks, the lake waters were only thirty feet from the mansion. The ground squished under Alanna’s bare feet, and the cold and clammy mud chilled her. Moments later they stood at the edge of the water. Did he think they’d willingly walk into the water and drown? He must be daft.
The gun barrel in her ribs was beginning to bruise her skin. She pul
led away slightly, and Barry shoved her away. She fell to her knees in the mud. Liam jerked away from Patricia and knelt by her side. He was shaking as if from a fever, but his skin chilled her when she touched him. She didn’t like the breathless panting she heard from his chest.
He needed a doctor. And quickly.
“Get up,” Barry said.
She was more than ready to obey, because she heard a splash in the water, followed by the now-familiar gator roar. Pete was nearby. Holding tight to Liam, she rose. Liam leaned heavily against her.
“Into the water with you.” Barry sounded almost happy.
Patricia folded her arms across her chest. “Absolutely not.”
“I could shoot you instead,” Barry said. “The gator will dispose of any evidence. If you go in of your own will, at least you have a chance to swim to safety.”
A false assurance. Alanna was quite certain Pete wasn’t the only gator in this lake. She’d heard too many bellows. The lake churned with flotsam from the storm. She wasn’t a strong swimmer. Liam was too weak to put up too much of a fight. Grady might make it, but she suspected Patricia couldn’t swim at all. She was much too prissy to want to get her hair wet long enough to learn.
“How are you going to explain the fact that we all went into the water?” Alanna asked.
Barry shrugged. “I’ll push the Mercedes in after you and tell the police that Patricia was suffering from chest pains so you tried to get her to the hospital. The driveway is flooded. The Mercedes would never get through.”
Alanna glanced to her right. Everything he’d said was true. The police would believe him too. She could see a scenario like he’d stated playing out perfectly. The plan was too audacious. No one would think he had planned and carried out a plot to kill all four of them. She saw Grady glance at the knife in Liam’s belt, then his eyes flickered away.
She had to keep Barry’s attention on her. Forcing a smile, she took a step toward him. “Barry, I’m your wife. We can work this out.”
His expression went even colder. “A cheating wife. You’ve never once let me past the bedroom door.”