Walking Into Murder Page 11

  Laura obeyed. She couldn’t stop now, so she might as well get down as fast as she could. Gritting her teeth, she willed her hands, her feet and toes and fingers, and even her elbows and shoulders to find a piece of wood or a bit of vine, anything that would hold her up until she could find the next precarious perch.

  The strain on her arms had become intolerable, but she dared not look down to see how far she had come. Then she would definitely fall. Even thinking about it made her dizzy. She dislodged one foot tentatively from its perch; then a branch cracked sharply and her other foot went out from under her. Grabbing frantically at vines and trellis, she plummeted toward the ground and landed with a thump. After a stunned moment, she moved an arm and a leg and realized to her astonishment that she was unhurt – aside from the fact that she would be a mass of scratches and bruises tomorrow.

  She got shakily to her feet. “You did great,” Catherine hissed. “Follow me!” She ran into the darkness before Laura could object. She trailed after Catherine, hoping the girl knew where to find a car. But when she caught up with Catherine again, she was opening one of the stable doors.

  Laura’s stomach dropped to her boots. Surely, Catherine didn’t expect her to go after Thomas on a horse? She hadn’t ridden a horse for forty years, and that was only a pony led by some long-suffering adult in endless circles around a dusty ring. She had not enjoyed the experience. The pony had bitten her, she remembered, when she was finally able to get off.

  “Good boy, Senator,” Catherine crooned. “Good boy.” She hauled out a saddle and the cloth that went under it and approached the huge horse.

  “Hold this strap,” she commanded, handing Laura a long leather strap attached to the horse’s head. Laura obeyed, keeping as far as she could from the prancing forefeet, and the teeth.

  “Hold still, boy,” Catherine told the horse, who nuzzled her gently before he turned his attention to the stranger. He snuffled Laura expectantly, and then blew hard out of his nose in her direction. It felt like a fluttering wind on her cheek, and she felt almost pleased. Maybe he liked her.

  She was quickly disillusioned. Senator whipped his head in the other direction, then plunged it up and down in rapid succession and pawed at the ground. His eyes began to roll wildly, and he snorted harder.

  “Steady, Senator,” Catherine soothed. “Steady now. We’re going for a ride, isn’t that great? You don’t get to go out at this hour very often, do you?” Catherine went on talking, her voice low and steady, and the horse gradually stilled. Every once in a while, though, he rolled his eyes at Laura, as if he expected her to perpetrate some dreadful assault on him.

  “No need to worry about me, horse,” she told him, trying to mimic Catherine’s soothing tones. “I am highly unlikely to get any closer to you than I can possibly help, so you see, you have all the advantages here.” The horse seemed to listen with interest, so she kept up a stream of similar nonsense while Catherine got him ready.

  “Great,” Catherine said finally, slipping a metal object in Senator’s surprisingly receptive mouth and adjusting the last strap. “You’re really good with horses, you know. He didn’t even spit out the bit. Too mesmerized by you. Anyway, he’s ready to go.”

  She led Senator outside, and Laura followed at a safe distance from his long legs and hard hoofs. Somewhere off to their right, they heard the sound of the van, laboring once more up the long hill.

  Catherine’s taut shoulders slumped in discouragement. “What if we can’t catch up?” she asked. “What can we do then?”

  Laura tried to think of another way to reassure her. Without Catherine, this rescue would never get off the ground.

  “We have one advantage,” she pointed out. “They have to use lights. We should be able to spot them once we’re on the top of the hill.” She wasn’t sure there was any truth in this claim, either, but Catherine nodded, intent on the chase again.

  “I’ll get on first and calm him down while you climb up behind me,” she explained. Laura’s jaw dropped. She was supposed to get on too? But how? Senator’s back was much higher than her head.

  Catherine forestalled any objections she might have made. “See that mounting block?” she asked, gesturing at a solid-looking hunk of wood. “Stand there, and when I’m in the right position, climb aboard.”

  With a leap that astonished Laura, she propelled her slender body into the saddle, adjusted herself against it and grabbed the reins.

  Recovering her wits but little of her courage, Laura climbed up on the block and waited with a sense of impending doom. This was impossible, surely. She was bound to fall off the back of this creature. Senator sloped down at quite a sharp angle at that end. She watched warily as he pranced in nervous circles around her.

  Catherine soothed him expertly, seeming hardly to move in the saddle as Senator snorted and danced skittishly. “Over there,” she told him when he had settled a little. Firmly pulling at the reins, she guided him toward Laura. He complied, his big feet mincing delicately in the required direction.

  Catherine held him still as Laura struggled to heave a leg over his back. This was a great deal harder than going over a windowsill, she decided, and wondered how she could get some leverage. Finally, she clutched the back of the saddle, gave a great leap and found herself perched on Senator’s buttocks with one leg dangling almost to the ground on the other side. Catherine leaned over and pulled her back so that her legs were evenly distributed on both sides. Slowly, Laura levered her hips forward until she was pressed against the hard saddle.

  She winced. The horse – not to mention the saddle - would give her some nice bruises, too, but in much more delicate places.

  “Quite a leap,” Catherine observed. “Now, hold on tight. We’re off!”

  Laura clung tenaciously to Catherine’s waist as she urged the horse forward, first into a trot, and then into a canter. The latter was faster and more frightening, but Laura almost welcomed the shift. Catherine managed to raise herself up and down with graceful regularity as Senator trotted, but Laura bounced so hard with each step that she knew she would be unable to walk for at least a week.

  Their pace slowed to a walk when they came to the flooded place at the bottom of the hill. The horse splashed through it unconcernedly. Laura was pleased to note that she was so high up that the water couldn’t reach her. Senator’s tail, however, could. It whisked back at her face with maddening regularity as they proceeded. Laura tried closing her eyes, but that was worse. Total darkness was unnerving as well as unbalancing, she discovered, when one was bouncing up and down in unexpected patterns.

  Catherine urged Senator into a trot as they ascended the hill, but then he lurched to a stop. Laura peered around Catherine’s back. The moon was bright enough so that she could see across the hills on both sides of the road. On one of those hills a pair of lights bobbed up and down.

  “The van,” she murmured, and Catherine nodded.

  “There’s an old shed up there,” she said. “That must be where they’re taking him. It’s on an old farm track. Pretty muddy and rough for a van, but I guess they can make it.” She steered Senator gently to the left, looking for the turning.

  “There,” Laura whispered, pointing at an almost invisible pair of tracks. Catherine turned into them, keeping Senator to a walk on the uneven terrain. Laura was relieved until she realized that his walk was almost harder to endure than his other gaits because it swayed her back and forth at the same time that it bumped her up and down. She was about to ask Catherine if she could get down and walk, or even run if that was necessary, when she saw the van turn, and the headlights came toward them. Why were they coming back already? Had they just dumped Thomas up there, or was he still in the van?

  “Off,” Catherine said, to Laura’s infinite relief. Uncaring of Senator’s potentially murderous hoofs, she slid off his back and landed in an inglorious heap.

  Catherine dismounted with far more grace and led the horse quickly off the road and into the bushes. Laura follo
wed as fast as she could, surprised that she could walk at all. Fear was a great motivator, she realized.

  They reached cover just in time. Within minutes the van shuddered past them. Its tires churned deep into the mud as it bounced and clattered, but somehow it kept crawling forward. Laura and Catherine ducked down to hide their pale faces.

  “Should we follow them or go up to the shed?” Catherine asked, panicky again.

  “Go up to the shed,” Laura answered with a confidence she didn’t feel. “I’m pretty sure your Dad’s up there. I’ll go the rest of the way on foot,” she added. “I’ll never get back on the horse without that block thing.

  “Besides,” she added fervently, hoping to cheer Catherine up, “I don’t intend ever to get on a horse again for the rest of my days.”

  Catherine giggled. “I’ll walk too,” she offered. “This is bad terrain for a horse in the dark, so I’ll lead Senator. Lord Torrington would kill me if he got injured.”

  “I am far less worried about Lord Torrington right now than about the pair of thugs that just left,” Laura retorted, and immediately wanted to take back the words. There was no point in reminding Catherine of what they might find when they reached the shed. It was better to keep her positive.

  They trudged up the slope, and sooner than Laura had expected they came to the old building. Catherine slung Senator’s reins loosely across a fence; he lowered his head placidly and began munching on grass.

  Cautiously, they approached the shed and peered inside. The rug had been dumped in an untidy heap in one corner but it was too dark to see anything else. Turning on her flashlight, Laura splayed it around the small space to make sure no one else was there, and then she dared to let it rest on the rug. The shoes were still visible but not the head. There was no movement inside it. They crept closer, terrified to look and terrified not to. Finally, unable to wait any longer, they began to unfold the heavy carpet.

  “Dad!” Catherine whispered in horror as the man’s head reappeared. His eyes were closed, his face deathly pale. Catherine dropped to her knees beside him and clutched his hand. “Dad! What have they done to you?

  “Laura, is he dead?” Her young voice was filled with terror.

  Laura sank down beside her and picked up the other hand. “He’s alive,” she assured Catherine quickly. “He’s warm, and there’s a pulse.”

  “Not for long, I fear.” The deep and cultivated voice came from the door. Morris stood there, nonchalantly fingering a long knife. “First, I have a few questions to ask him. So far, he’s refused to answer but now he might reconsider. After that… Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”

  Terror rose in Laura’s chest. Morris must not have left with Stewart. Why hadn’t she thought of that? He must have been watching them all along, waiting, biding his time. And now he had Catherine to use as a threat to make Thomas talk…

  Still fingering the knife, Morris sauntered toward them. Laura’s arm shot out to pull Catherine behind her, but her gesture came too late. Catherine had already sprung. Lowering her head, she rammed Morris in the belly, knocking him backward, then kicked him hard, aiming for the groin but getting his chest instead. The double blows knocked the wind out of him. Gasping, he struggled to his knees. Catherine faced him defiantly.

  Laura looked around for a weapon of some kind - anything she could use to defend Catherine. A long wooden object lying near Thomas caught her eye. Grabbing it, she hurried to Catherine’s side.

  Morris stared at them unblinkingly while his breathing steadied. His eyes were narrowed with rage. Laura shivered. Never in her life had she seen eyes that were so totally devoid of human warmth and so mesmerizing. She felt incapable of movement, held in place by the sheer force of that malevolent gaze. Catherine too seemed unable to move. Laura could feel her terror.

  “You are going to pay,” Morris said, his voice icy with threat. “You can be sure of that. No one barrels into me like that without paying very dearly.”

  With the agility of a cat, he sprang to his feet, raising his knife to strike. This time, Laura knew, he didn’t mean to be deflected.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Laura screamed at the top of her lungs and then screamed again, in the vain hope that someone would hear her. The scream resounded deafeningly in the small space. Before the noise died down, she grabbed Catherine’s hand and charged for the door of the shed, swinging her makeshift weapon wildly at Morris as she went. Her tactic worked; they raced past Morris before he could react.

  Dragging Catherine behind her, Laura ran. She headed for the track, but then thought better of the tactic. Morris was probably faster and their only hope might be to hide in the bushes and take him by surprise. Catherine at least had some ability to defend herself, and she still had her long stick. She veered down the slope toward the bushes, still pulling Catherine behind her. If only the moon would go behind a cloud so he couldn’t see them!

  Morris was catching up. She could hear his thudding footsteps. He was running with incredible speed for someone who had been flat on his back only moments ago, as if rage had given him unnatural strength. Madmen were supposed to be unnaturally strong, weren’t they?

  She heard other footsteps, different ones, and tried to think what they were. The horse. The horse was coming after them too.

  Morris was almost upon them now; she saw his knife flash in the moonlight, and then Catherine’s hand was wrested away…

  Laura stopped, searching the gloom for the girl. There she was, only a few steps behind her. Morris was right beside her, and this time Laura was certain she saw the knife flash. She leaped toward the two figures, brandishing her stick.

  A terrified whinny followed by another scream, a scream of pain this time, brought her to halt once more. Catherine was still in the same place, but Morris was lying on the ground. Had Catherine managed to knock him down again?

  “Senator,” she heard Catherine whisper into the sudden silence. “Oh, Senator.” The horse nuzzled her gently, and she threw her arms around the huge neck and began to sob, long, painful gasping sobs.

  Laura was beside her in seconds. “It’s all right, Catherine,” she soothed. “It’s all right. We’re both all right.”

  “He was frightened,” Catherine sobbed. “He heard me scream and he saw Morris running after me with the knife, acting so crazy. And then Morris ran in front of him, trying to get me, and he reared….”

  Her voice dwindled away. Senator nuzzled her again, a little harder this time, and Catherine held on to him as if she would never let go.

  Laura bent over to look at Morris. He wasn’t a pretty sight. Senator’s hoofs had caught him mostly in the arm and shoulder, but in the semi-darkness it was hard to tell about other injuries. He was still breathing, but he looked badly hurt. They would have to get help for him as well as Thomas.

  The knife, knocked from his grasp by the horse, was lying on the ground nearby. Laura went over and picked it up, wincing with distaste as her fingers touched the cold steel. As cold as its owner’s eyes, she thought irrationally. She wrapped it in the bandanna she always brought with her and slipped the bundle into an outside pocket of her pack.

  Catherine’s sobs diminished. Laura put a comforting hand on her arm. “We need to get help,” she said. “We’ll check on your father and then maybe you can ride Senator back and alert someone at the manor.”

  Catherine looked at her in confusion. “But who do I alert?” she asked in a voice that bordered on hysteria. “Stewart and Morris brought Dad here, and that means… that means they could all be in it…”

  Her voice trailed off. She was right, Laura realized. Stewart must be involved in whatever was going on at the manor. Antonia and everyone else could be too. She wasn’t going to let Catherine ride unsuspectingly into a den of thieves.

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “Let’s check on your father instead.”

  Catherine sprinted for the shed. Laura followed as fast as she could. Still, she heard Catherine’s joyous exclamation w
ell before she managed to catch up. “Dad! Dad! Are you okay? Oh, Dad! I was so scared…” She started to cry helplessly, like a child.

  Relief shot through Laura when she saw Thomas sitting up. He looked dreadful in the glow of her flashlight, but he was definitely alive. He even tried to smile when she came in. His arms were clasped around Catherine, who was still sobbing.

  “I am very glad you’re alive,” Laura told him sincerely.

  “Alive, yes,” he replied, putting one hand up to rub his head while he stroked Catherine’s back with the other. “The rest is up for grabs. I should have stayed unconscious a while longer. No one could sleep through that racket, though. What happened?”

  Catherine stopped crying. “I rammed him,” she said with a trace of pride. “Aren’t you glad you paid for all those lessons?”

  Thomas looked appalled. “Rammed who?”

  “Oh, I forget. You were knocked out. Morris. He had his knife and was going to use it on you so you would answer his questions. So I had to do something. He was real mad at you for telling him off in the woods.”

  Any color that had been left in Thomas’s face bleached out. “You rammed Morris?” he asked incredulously. “I wouldn’t dare do that even if I could. Nor would anyone else I can think of.”

  “It’s all right now,” Laura assured him hastily. “Morris is out of commission for the moment. The horse finished him off.”

  Thomas gaped at her. “Oh, Lord, here I thought I was leaving Catherine ensconced in your safe hands and now it sounds like all hell’s broken loose instead. I should have known better than to put you two together.”

  Laura bristled. Why couldn’t the man say something appreciative instead of criticizing them? She had suffered a lot of discomfort on his behalf and Catherine had displayed extraordinary courage.

  “Catherine was perfectly safe, we both were,” she protested indignantly, “until we saw you wrapped up in the rug and decided we ought to rescue you. We didn’t have a car so we came on Senator. You wouldn’t have liked it much if we hadn’t come, so you could at least be grateful.”