Hannah Grace (43 page)

Rufus huffed all the way up the hill, the pain in his chest mounting with every step. He pulled his wool collar closer, then clutched at the place where it pained him the most, the upper left side. He groaned aloud and winced at the inconvenience. He had a job to do, and he certainly had no time for dealing with a bothersome ache. Trying to ignore it, he trudged along, hoping no neighbors were watching from their closed up houses.

When he was still several yards away from the Kane residence, Roy's familiar bird whistle stopped him in his tracks as he sought out the source. "Over here," Roy hissed through his teeth. Crouched behind a tree, he motioned for Rufus to join him. "I don't see that brainless brother of mine anywhere," he muttered when Rufus staggered over to the tree. "He's late. So help me, if he went over to that cemetery, I'll wring his skinny neck. He's gonna get us all kilt."

Rufus had better things to worry about, namely staying in an upright position.

"You drunk?" Roy asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"No, I ain't drunk. It's that stupid indigestion I been havin'."

"Oh." Roy's icy gaze lingered but a moment before he turned his attention back to the Kane house. "There's some weasel standin' guard out front. I wasn't countin' on that. We'll have to figure out a way to get past 'im. I'll shoot 'im if I have to,"

"Shootin' will draw attention,"

"I ain't worried'bout that. By the time the authorities get here, we'll be long gone."

"We gotta get back to ar horses. How you figure we'll be long gone? And how you gonna haul some squallin' kid down that hill without makin' a stir? This plan don't seem to be comin' together like it ought."

"Stop yer worryin, you of fool. I got it all figgered out."

Any other time, Rufus would have slapped his son's mouth. "What about Reuben?" he mumbled instead.

Roy cursed and spat. "Far as I'm concerned, if he ain't here when the deed's done, we're leavin' without 'im."

Nausea swirled in Rufus's gut as he realized how hard he had to work to snag a breath.

"I'll circle'round back," Roy hissed. "If that coot looks like he's gettin' suspicious, throw somethin, a stone or stick, to distract'im, but whatever you do, don't let'im see you."

"You're gettin' awful bossy, you know that?"

"And if Reuben happens to show up, tell 'im to wait for my signal."

"You'd think you was in charge."

A snide grin spread over Roy's face. "Just practicin' up, that's all."

"Pfff. You think you're somethin.'

Ignoring the taunt, Roy poked his head around the tree, slinking low, then quickly darted across the street and disappeared behind a house situated three doors away from the Kane residence. The so-called guard was leaning against a tree, completely oblivious to the goings-on.

When Rufus hunkered down behind the tree, preparing to watch for Roy's signal, a sudden cramp seized his chest. He'd known pain, but this one pierced him to his toes, slicing straight to his core. In an instant, his squalid world tumbled and turned and tipped on its axis.

And before he breathed his last, he cursed the pain, cursed his wretched life, and cursed the God he'd never once acknowledged.

Dusty barked, but it wasn't an ordinary bark; this bark was tinged with fuss and fury. "He must be chasing a squirrel. He'll never get it through his head he can't catch one," Jesse said between cookie bites. He took a few sips of cocoa to wash down his cookies, but his hand slipped unexpectedly on the handle and at least half the mug's contents spilled down his shirtfront.

"Yow!" he squealed, leaping off the chair, his skin stinging from the hot liquid, but not nearly as much as his pride.

"You okay?" Billy B pinched his lips together to keep from laughing. "You made a fine mess."

Jesse looked down at himself. "Oh, man, Hannah never gets mad at me, but this might be the first time." Brown liquid soaked through his light blue, button-down shirt, running the length of his pant legs and seeping into his shoes. He pulled the cotton fabric away from his skin and made a face. "Yeeeeuck!" Now Billy B gave a full-out laugh, and Jesse couldn't help it-he followed suit.

Outside, Dusty's barking came to an abrupt stop, but neither boy seemed to notice.

"Would one of you let Dusty in?" Hannah called from the top of the stairs.

"Oh boy, wait till she finds out what I did," Jesse whispered. "It's even on the rug."

Billy B's laughter settled. "It'll be okay," he muttered between chuckles. "Go wash yourself up while I get the dog. Then we'll try to clean up the mess before she comes down."

"Deal."

Hannah worried that the boys' incessant laughter would disturb her grandmother, but when she checked in on her, she found her sleeping soundly and snoring lightly with an afghan tucked under her chin, a peaceful half-smile on her face. Well, would wonders never cease? Helena Kane was napping. Hannah smiled and closed the door as soundlessly as possible, then went back to dusting the upstairs study area. Beyond the small study, which housed a rolltop writing desk, an office chair on castors, and a tall bookcase, was a set of glass-paneled French doors leading out to a second-story terrace, which formed a roof over the rear entryway. A white balustrade encased the small balcony, making it a safe and cozy place to lounge with a good book on a warm, sunny day. She paused and glanced out the window at the backyard, where the dry autumn leaves still lay in small, half-burned piles, the family's efforts to rake them up having ended abruptly one week ago, when a rainstorm moved in.

Since Dusty's barking had ceased, she assumed the boys had brought him back inside, but why, then, did she not hear the crazy mutt running helter-skelter through the house? And what of the boys' high-spirited giggles?

An odd, clamoring sound, almost like a yelp, came from the backyard, followed by a string of muffled words: "Hey! Stop! Let go!" More tussling, more muted talk, and some kind of cracking sound had her wrinkling her brow in apprehension. Had Dusty's play gotten too rough? But then, she'd clearly instructed both boys not to play outside, so who would be yelling at Dusty? Van, perhaps?

She hurried to the glass doors and flung them wide open, then darted to the edge of the terrace to look down at the yard. Dusty, sprawled and dazed-looking, was struggling to get to his feet, but Van, not five feet away from him, lay perfectly motionless next to a two-by-four board-the kind Papa had used for a recent woodworking project. Hannah's stomach twisted with raw fear, but when she looked to her right and spotted a man dragging Billy B by the arm toward the front gate, her fear advanced to all-out hysteria. "Billy!" she screamed. Then, to the man, she shouted, "What do you think you're doing?" stomping her foot and pointing wildly. "You unhand him this instant!"

Surprised by the interruption, the man paused for a second, stared up at her, then drew something from his pocket. Billy B yowled and tried to wrestle free, kicking and squealing like a banshee, but to no avail. Frantic, Hannah turned, preparing to make a beeline for the stairs, but then it happened-a loud, splintering crack fired through the air, and, after that, a jolt to her body knocked her sideways, sending her reeling and teetering until she landed with a thud on the terrace floor. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she'd fallen-until searing pain as she'd never known it clutched her in the left side. Glancing down at the point of pain, she noted a red splotch darkening her dress.

A scream she barely recognized as her own bellowed from her throat.

"Lord God, help me," she gasped between sobs. And then, "Billy. Jesse. God, please-send Your angels of protection."

Another scream tore out of her, and she did not stop screaming, then whimpering, until everything went black.

abe choked down fear as he kicked Slate into a full-out run down Sheldon. Only a block from Ridge, he'd heard the gunshot clear as day, and, somehow, he sensed with dread that it had come from the Kane household. "Lord, Lord, Lord," he prayed as Slate galloped up the street. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw folks emerging from their homes but took no time to acknowledge them, maintaining focus on his mission.

At the corner of Ridge, he reined in Slate to appraise the situation. As much as he wanted to continue barreling ahead and to insure everyone's safety, his years of training and experience warned against such action. Best to move in with a plan, he thought, ever wary of brash action on impulse.

"It came from up there, Sheriff." Gabe glanced around to find Herb Horton standing on his porch in his long underwear, pointing up the hill.

"Herb! Did you see anything suspicious beforehand? Notice anyone passing by your place?"

The man pulled at his graying beard and shook his head. "The wife and I was just sittin' in ar living room reading yesterday's paper when we heard the blast. Sounded like gunfire, if y' ask me, and this time, it ain't comin' from of Bill Elwood's place."

Slate snorted and danced, impatient to keep moving. A few other neighbors poked their heads out, some coming to stand on their porches. "What's going on, Sheriff?" someone asked.

"No time to explain, folks. Go back in your houses and out of harm's way."

Most of them heeded his words, however reluctantly, but one woman who looked to be in her thirties, supporting a toddler on her ample hip, walked out her front door and came straight down the steps in Gabe's direction. He quickly hustled Slate forward to meet her halfway.

"Ma'am, you'd better get back inside. It's bitter cold out here, not to mention dangerous."

"I saw them, Sheriff-two men," she spat out. "The younger one darted across the road and behind the Kane house." She pointed with her head. "I watched them from my front window. That young one had evil on his mind, I could tell, the way he ran across the road all hunkered down, looking every which way. The older one, he's layin' out flat behind that tree over yonder, drunk or something. See'im?"

Gabe swiveled in the saddle and strained to see where she gestured. Sure enough, several yards ahead and across the road, a body lay motionless beneath a tree. Rufus McCurdy? "I see him," he replied. "You best get back inside now. Thanks for your help, ma'am."

She gave a nod and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. "I hope you get those awful men, Sheriff Sandy Shores has always been a quiet place. We all want it to stay that way."