Dying for Dinner (A Cooking Class Mystery) (32 page)

"He's a motel clerk." I couldn't afford for her to get even more agitated, and honestly, at this point, I wasn't sure what might send her over the edge. I balanced my tone somewhere between logic and giving Eve the equivalent of a verbal slap. "He's not a killer, Eve. He's not going to hurt us. He doesn't even know we're here."

"He's--" Eve hiccuped over her words. I saw her shoulders rise and freeze before they fell again. "Oh, thank goodness! He's going back inside."

Relieved, I sawed at the tape some more, but like the corkscrew had done so many times, the knife kept falling over. Grappling for it, positioning it, and getting it wedged against the box again took more time than we had. The precious minutes ticking away and my fingers trembling, I prayed the knife would stay in place this time, and got back to work. "I wasn't talking about you being happy about our situation, Eve. Of course you're not happy. Who could be happy about this?"

Stress or no stress, when it comes to love, Eve is cool under pressure. At least on the outside. She pretended she didn't know what I was talking about so I had no choice but to set her straight.

"I was talking about Tyler. I was talking about Tyler and Kaitlin's engagement. You don't sound happy about them calling it off. Not as happy as I thought you'd be. I figured you couldn't wait until--"

"Oh, Annie, have you completely lost your mind?" Eve squealed before she realized her mistake. If she could have used her hands, she would have slapped them over her mouth. Instinctively, she slouched further into her seat and stared at the windshield. When the clerk didn't come out of his office again and there was no sign of life from O'Hara's room, her sigh and mine overlapped.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" she hissed. "You can't really think--"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think? You and Tyler have been talking on the phone, and seeing each other, and who knows what else!"

"We haven't done that." I couldn't tell if Eve was disappointed by this or not. She shook her head. "Are you worried that I'm going to get back together with Tyler? Or are you worried that I won't?"

Interesting questions, and unusually insightful considering they came from Eve. I paused for a moment, thinking. "I'm worried that you'll get hurt again," I said, truthful because at this point there didn't seem to be any reason not to be. "He broke your heart."

"And he's said he's sorry."

"He said you weren't smart."

"He's apologized for that."

"He walked out on you."

"And he knows it was a mistake."

"You're going to get engaged again, aren't you?"

Even through the gloom, I saw Eve throw back her shoulders. "When I do," she said, "you will--as always--be the first to know."

"And if you do--"

"Annie, honey!" Eve's voice teetered on the brink of laughter as much as anyone's could, considering the circumstances. "You are getting way ahead of yourself. Right now, I'm just having a good time with the boy. Isn't that enough?"

"It never has been before. You always get engaged."

"Well, maybe I've learned my lesson." Even with the cover of darkness, I saw Eve glance away. "Maybe you have, too, recently, right?"

"You mean about Peter?" I would have laughed if it was funny. Nothing about what we were going through was funny. Including this new wrinkle in our conversation. "I told Peter to get lost," I said, then instantly felt guilty for taking so much poetic license, so I amended it. "Well, not in so many words. I wasn't mean or anything. But I did tell him that there was no reason for him to be hanging around. I told him I loved Jim."

I saw the flash of Eve's whiter-than-white teeth. "It's about time you realized it," she said.

"It's also about time for us to get out of here." I sawed at the tape some more. "Now that we know who's after Norman, we can help Tyler capture Matt O'Hara. We can give him a description and tell him about the RV he's driving. And we can tell him about Claude, too. Poor Claude." I shook off the thought. It was that or dissolve into a puddle of terrified mush. "Tyler will have everything he needs to find and arrest O'Hara. Then Norman will be safe."

Even as I said it, the last of the duct tape snapped. I can't begin to describe how good it felt, or how grateful I was to finally stretch my arms after so many hours. I shook out my hands, getting rid of the pins and needles, and I was just about to grab the oyster knife to get to work on the tape around my ankles, when I heard a sound outside the door.

"Annie!" Because she didn't know if I heard it, Eve whispered a desperate warning. I was way ahead of her. Moving awkwardly thanks to the tape around my ankles, I pushed myself up, scrambling (well, it was more like waddling) to get back onto the bench across from Eve.

I made it just in time. When Matt O'Hara opened the door and a thin stream of anemic morning light made its way into the RV, I was right back where he'd last seen me, my now-free hands firmly behind my back.

"Thought you two would be sleeping." He made his way toward the driver's seat, kicking through the gadgets and debris. It was all I could do not to gasp when one kick sent a rolling pin wheeling across the floor. It knocked against the cardboard box where I'd just been sitting and I watched my oyster knife fall and carom off into the darkness.

"Then again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised." I'd been so busy watching my knife--and my hope of freedom--disappear, I reminded myself I couldn't afford to give the man cause for suspicion. I gulped and turned my attention back to O'Hara, who continued, "If I were you, I'd want to be awake for what just could be the last couple hours of my life, too."

Chuckling, he slid into the driver's seat. I closed my eyes, whispered a prayer of thanksgiving that he hadn't thought to check our hands again, and sat stiff and un-moving as we made our way to the Washington Monument.

It was early; the parking lot was deserted. As far as I could see, there was no sign of Jim, Tyler, Norman--or the money O'Hara was waiting for.

"You'd better hope your friend Norman's got a watch that isn't running slow." O'Hara checked his own watch. "He's got twelve minutes. No, wait. Eleven. He's got eleven minutes." O'Hara hauled himself out of the driver's seat and went to the door. "And so do you."

With that, he was gone. And I knew I had eleven minutes . . . well, less than eleven minutes, to finish freeing myself.

I was on the floor again in a flash and, using my hands to keep me upright, I did a sort of shuffling/ kneeling/scudding along the floor, desperately looking for the oyster knife.

No luck.

But I did find a cheese grater.

"Eighteen/ten stainless steel," I told Eve, grabbing for the grater and holding it up so she could see it. "Photo-etched blades, easy cleaning, large handle. Ultra coarse, coarse and fine grating surfaces, and--"

"Give it up, girlfriend!" One look at the cheese grater and Eve felt the same wallop of relief I did. I could tell because her words shimmered with hope. "Let's just get the hell out of here!"

I didn't need to be told twice. My stiff fingers working as furiously as they were able, I scraped the grater over the tape on my ankles and watched as duct tape shards floated to the floor like shiny snowflakes. Within a couple minutes, I was free.

I controlled a hoot of joy and jumped to my feet.

A second later, I was back down on the floor, rubbing my legs. "They're asleep," I moaned. "My legs aren't working." I didn't let that stop me. Ignoring the pain, I made my way over to Eve and got to work on the tape around her ankles and wrists.

We were sore, we were frightened out of our minds, we were barely able to move, but within minutes, we were poised at the door, ready to make a run for it.

I took one last look out the windows of the RV. I would have felt more confident if I could see Matt O'Hara. If I knew where he was and what he was doing. If he was too close to the RV . . .

I told myself not to go there and told Eve I'd count to three. By the time I got to two, my nervous energy got the best of me. I slammed open the door and, half running, half falling, I made it to the bottom of the steps. I waited there for Eve, who was no more steady on her feet than I was. I wished we could have taken longer to get our circulation moving, but at the first noise of the door opening, Matt O'Hara came running from around the other side of the RV.

One look at him--and the knife in his hand--and I didn't wait another instant.

"Go. Now." I yanked Eve down the steps and gave her a push in the direction of the monument. I followed right behind, running as fast as I could.

It wasn't fast enough.

My legs cramped, and I buckled.

"Don't stop!" When it looked as if Eve was going to come back to help me, I waved her on. "Go. Get help," I screamed, but as it turned out, I really didn't have to. No sooner were we out of the RV than I saw Jim sprinting in our direction. Tyler was right behind him and if I wasn't so busy running for my life (OK, it wasn't actually running, it was more like crawling quickly), I actually might have been amused by the look on his face. It was obvious both he and Jim were supposed to be lying low, waiting for the money drop to be completed. And just as obvious (at least to me) that there was no way on earth Jim was going to wait now that he saw me.

I pivoted and pulled myself to my feet so I could race toward him.

I would have made it, too, if Matt O'Hara's arm didn't snake around my waist. He jerked me off my feet.

"One step closer and she's dead." I couldn't see O'Hara, he was behind me, but I had no doubt he was flashing his knife. Jim screeched to a stop and I saw his face go pale. I also saw that Eve was safe with a uniformed police officer who'd come out from behind the monument where he'd been concealed. I told myself that was good. I told myself we'd celebrate both our escapes later. I told myself not to panic.

That was before I felt O'Hara's blade nick the skin of my throat.

"You're not going to arrest me," O'Hara growled. "I'm not going back to prison."

"No one is going to arrest you." Tyler had caught up to Jim, and he took a careful step forward, his hands out in the universal gesture that said
Take it slow, take it easy
. "You can leave, O'Hara. I'll let you leave. But only if Annie stays behind."

O'Hara dragged me back. "She's coming with me."

When he took another slow step toward us, my eyes were on Tyler, and when I slid my gaze to the side toward Jim, I saw that he was gone. Even my pumping adrenaline wasn't enough to fool me. This was a curious turn of events. So was the look that flashed across Tyler's face. One that told me in no uncertain terms that he was pissed.

That was right before I felt something slam into O'Hara.

He loosened his hold and I spun around.

The something in question was Jim, who'd outflanked O'Hara and tackled him from behind. O'Hara's knife flashed and I stifled a scream. It was all I had time to do before another uniformed cop put an arm around me and Tyler jumped into the fray. A gun beats a knife any day and no sooner had Tyler pointed his at O'Hara than he gave up.

"Drop the knife," Tyler instructed, and as soon as O'Hara had, Jim raced forward and took me into his arms.

"Ye're safe. Ye're all right. I've been so worried!"

Over Jim's shoulder, I watched Tyler slap the cuffs on Matt O'Hara. I saw Norman come around from the back of the RV, looking just as relieved as I felt. Eve was still a little unsteady on her feet, but she was walking over on the arm of a police officer.

Everyone I loved and cared about was safe; the mystery was solved.

Thank goodness! I could go back to where I started.

Today
was
the first day of the rest of my life.

Nineteen

BY THE NEXT WEEKEND, MOST OF THE EXCITEMENT had died down. Most of it.

There was still the whole issue of Norman paying back Howard Fish's ill-gotten money.

Not to worry, Norman could afford it and the high-priced attorneys he paid to handle his case were bound and determined to make the process as painless as possible.

As a matter of fact, in spite of the impending loss of a hundred and fifty thousand of his hard-earned dollars, things were actually looking up for Norman.