Читать книгу When Silence Falls - Shirlee McCoy - Страница 11

Piper was in the middle of explaining for the fifth time the roundhouse kick she’d used to disarm the kidnapper, when Jake Reed stepped up beside her. Sheriff of the small town where she lived, and a friend of Piper’s brother Grayson, he was here for one reason and one reason only—to check up on her. Obviously, Grayson had put him up to it.

She might have been annoyed if she hadn’t been so glad to see a familiar face.

“Everything okay here, Piper?” Jake’s voice was smooth and firm.

“Fine. I was just telling Lieutenant Bradley that it really is possible for a woman my size to disarm a man.”

“He’s having trouble believing you?” Jake speared Bradley with a look meant to intimidate. It might not have worked on Bradley, but Piper was tempted to take a step away.

Bradley just snapped the gum he was chewing and shrugged. “I’m just trying to get an accurate picture of how Miss Sinclair managed it.”

“I think I’ve already explained. I used a roundhouse kick. If you don’t know what that is, I can demonstrate.”

“Not necessary.”

“Then I’m free to go?”

“Let me check with Chief Russell. He might want to ask a few more questions before you leave.”

“But—”

Jake put a hand on Piper’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “I’ll go with him. See if I can speed things along a little.”

“I appreciate it.” And she did. Her head ached, her throat was parched and all she wanted was to catch a ride back to the college with Gabby, get in her car and go home.

“No problem. You might want to call Grayson while you wait. He’s been trying to reach you and he’s worried.”

“I would, but my cell phone battery died.”

“You can use mine.” The man standing beside Jake held out a phone. He was tall and rangy, his well-worn jeans and black T-shirt a perfect match for the shaggy, overgrown haircut he sported. A camera, cradled in his hand, seemed as much a part of who he was as his brown hair and green eyes.

Something about those eyes sparked a memory, but it flitted away too quickly for Piper to grasp. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem.” He turned away, taking some shots of the women who were waiting to be questioned.

Jake left, too, following Lieutenant Bradley across the parking lot to a short, balding man.

Which meant it was time to call Grayson. Piper braced herself and dialed his number.

He picked up on the first ring. “Sinclair, here.”

“Gray. It’s me.”

“Piper! Are you all right? I’ve been worried sick.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then maybe you can tell me what’s going on. A friend of mine called to say you were on the seven o’clock news. Something about a kidnapping.”

“I was at a weight-loss meeting—”

“You don’t need to lose weight,” Gray cut in, the impatience in his voice obvious.

“Gabby—”

“Why am I not surprised? She’s been pulling you into her schemes for…”

“Grayson, can I get a word in, here?”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

Piper took a deep breath, forcing back frustration. “Gabby and I were at a weight-loss seminar and some maniac decided to kidnap one of the women. She escaped, but during the scuffle, candles fell into a curtain and set the place on fire.”

“Nice condensed version, sis. Now, why don’t you tell me the rest?”

“This isn’t my phone. I don’t want to run up a stranger’s bill.”

“I don’t mind.” How the stranger had heard her when he seemed completely engrossed in photographing the scene, Piper didn’t know.

She flashed a smile, then turned away, facing the back of the ambulance she’d been leaning against and lowering her voice. “Look, Gray, we’ll talk more later. I’ve got to go.”

“Is Jake there?”

“He’s talking to one of the officers.”

“Can you ask him to call me when he’s done?”

“Gray—”

“Piper, Mom and Dad are enjoying the first vacation they’ve had in years. I’d hate to ruin it by telling them you’re in some kind of trouble.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“Whatever works.”

“Fine. I’ll tell him.” She hung up and thrust the phone back at its owner. “Here you go. Thanks again for letting me use it.”

He nodded, his gaze too knowing to be comfortable. “I guess Grayson hasn’t changed.”

“You know Gray?” No wonder his eyes had seemed familiar.

“Knew. But not as well as I knew Seth. He and I were too young to hang with Grayson and his buddies.”

He grinned and held out a hand. “Cade Macalister.”

“Cade? Cade who used to tie my shoelaces together and laugh when I tripped?” Piper squinted, trying to see the scrawny kid with glasses in the scruffily attractive man who stood before her.

“I guess you remember.”

“How could I forget? You and my brother spent hours coming up with ways to torture me.”

“Self-defense. You followed us around everywhere. It’s hard to look cool when you’ve got a little girl hanging out with you.”

Piper laughed, relaxing for the first time in what seemed like hours. “I guess that’s true.”

“It’s definitely true. How is Seth?”

“Good. He’s out of the country. We should hear from him early next month. Aren’t you a military guy, too?”

“I was. Dad had a stroke a year and a half ago, and I’m helping him out for a while.”

“I’d heard about his stroke. How’s he doing?”

“Better.” Cade’s grimace made a lie of the words.

“Ms. Sinclair?” A short, balding man hurried toward Piper, Jake close behind him, their arrival cutting off the questions she wanted to ask.

“Yes?” She turned toward them, her tension suddenly back.

“I’m Chief Russell. Lieutenant Bradley said you gave him your statement. We’ll need you to come by the station tomorrow morning and sign it. Other than that, we’re all set. You can stop by at your convenience.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded, gave her a brief smile and moved away.

“I guess I’m free to go. Thanks, Jake. Nice seeing you again, Cade.”

“You, too.”

She hurried away, feeling the weight of both men’s stares as she slid into Gabby’s car.

“Finally! I thought they’d never let you go.” Gabby’s eyes were dark and filled with worry as she put the car in gear and pulled out of the lot. “Are you okay?”

“I haven’t decided yet. How about you?”

“Still shaking.”

“Me, too.”

“I can’t believe I talked you into coming tonight. We both could have been killed.”

“But we weren’t.”

“Thanks to you.” Gabby turned into the university’s parking lot and pulled up next to Piper’s GTO. Then turned to face her. “You’re a hero. You know that, don’t you?”

Piper laughed and pushed the door open. “The only twenty-nine-year-old hero whose brother sends the cavalry to save her.”

“Is that what Sheriff Reed was doing there?”

“Yep.”

“And the guy that was with him? The cute one with the camera?”

“Cute? Cade Macalister is not cute. He’s a menace. Or at least he was when we were kids.”

“He’s cute.”

“To each her own.” But even as she said it, Piper silently agreed with Gabby’s assessment. “Have a safe trip tomorrow, and have fun in Florida.” Piper leaned over and hugged her friend.

“Me and my parents are sharing a two-bedroom condo. I don’t think fun is going to be possible.”

“At least you won’t be teaching. That’s got to be worth something.” Piper stepped out of the car, hitched her purse up on her shoulder. “See you in a month.”

She waved as Gabby drove away, then slid into her own car and started the engine. Usually she enjoyed the forty-minute drive to Lakeview, but tonight she felt anxious and worried, each shadow by the side of the road, every car swooping up from behind, a sinister reminder of the attempted kidnapping.

The outcome could have been so much worse. The gun could have discharged as it fell. Someone could have been hurt in the fire. Or killed. The thought brought a wave of nausea, and a cold, clammy sweat to Piper’s brow. Gabby had called her a hero, but there was a fine line between heroism and foolishness. Piper had yet to decide if she’d crossed it.

She swiped a shaky hand across her forehead and forced tense muscles to relax. By God’s grace no one had been hurt. Piper wouldn’t have to live with regrets or recriminations. She needed to be thankful for that, and move on.

Mozart’s Fantasy in D Minor was playing on the radio and she cranked up the volume, trying to lose herself in the music, but the images of the kidnapper and his intended victim were etched deep in her mind and she couldn’t shake them, no matter how loud the music or moving the score.

By the time she pulled into her driveway, Piper’s nerves were on edge, her hands in a death grip around the steering wheel. She sat in the car, eyes fixed on the front door and the golden glow of the porch light.

A tiny bungalow at the end of a dead-end street, the house had once been her great-uncle Marcus’s music studio. Now it was Piper’s home. In the three months since she’d moved in, she’d never felt anything but comfortable. Now she felt nervous, afraid to leave the safety of the car and step across the shadowy yard.

She scanned the area, looking for a reason for her unease. The house was the same as it had always been—the wide stoop and steeply slanted roof, the portico and bowed windows. But, to the right, thick woods created a sinister blackness. To the left, Mr. Thomas’s hulking Victorian spread its excess across a huge, unkempt yard, its hedges and trees overgrown and wild. So many places for someone to hide.

Unfortunately, Piper couldn’t sit in the car all night. She shivered, grabbed her purse and stepped out of the GTO, hurrying across the dark yard and up the steps, her heart thundering in her chest.

The living room was to her left as she entered the house. She walked through it into the dining room, setting her purse on the pine table; listening to the silence, feeling the stillness. Everything was as it should be—the soft hum of the refrigerator, the small pile of mail that sat on the table. Yet Piper couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. She turned on her heels, eyeing the room again and still finding nothing out of place.

Leftover nerves from the day’s events. That had to be the reason for her unease. Piper walked through the house anyway, checking the morning room that housed the Chickering piano she’d inherited. Then the kitchen, bedroom, bathroom and office. Everything was as she’d left it, and the too-fast tempo of her heart finally eased as she put on a Bach CD and settled in front of her computer. She had term papers to correct for the music theory class she was teaching at Lynchburg University, music scores to choose for her piano students. Both were tasks she usually enjoyed, though tonight neither appealed to her. Instead, her mind returned again and again to the gunman, the pale face of the woman he’d tried to kidnap, the hysterical screams of the other women, the fire.

The shrill ring of the phone offered a welcome distraction from her thoughts, and Piper grabbed the receiver. “Hello?”

“Piper? It’s Wayne.”

“Hey. What’s up?” Surprised, Piper fiddled with a pencil, wondering what had prompted the call. Though Wayne Marshall was a cousin of sorts, they’d been closest during Uncle Marcus’s battle with ALS. Since Marcus’s death, Wayne had reverted to the more solitary ways he’d exhibited since his mother had married Marcus fifteen years ago.

“I heard the news. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. How’d you hear?”

“Channel Seven ran a clip about the kidnapping and fire. I saw you standing near an ambulance.”

“How did I look?”

“Good, all things considered. Now can we be serious? You could have been killed.”

Piper rolled her eyes. After so many years of knowing one another, Wayne still didn’t understand her need to make light of difficult situations. “I know, but I’m fine. And so is everyone else who was there.”

“And some guy with a gun is on the loose.”

“Hopefully not for long.”

“‘Hopefully’ doesn’t do a whole lot for me. What are the police saying?”

“They’re investigating. As soon as they know something, I will, too.”

“I guess that will have to be good enough. We still on for Saturday?”

“Yes. Mrs. James is expecting us at eleven. It sounds like her husband compiled quite a bit of information about Music Makers. She wants me to use whatever I can.” Which was good, as Piper planned to make the book she was writing about her uncle’s charitable organization the best it could be.

“It’s a shame the guy never got to use it himself.”

“It is. Mrs. James is devastated by his death. She broke down twice while we were on the phone.”

“It’s never easy when someone we love dies.”

Wayne’s words hung between them, the reminder of the loss they’d suffered making them both pause.

Finally, Piper cleared her throat. “Marcus would be so happy about the book.”

“He’d be even happier knowing that you were the one putting it together.”

“I just hope I do it justice. Miriam is putting an awful lot of money into this—”

“Has anyone ever told you you worry too much?”

“About a million times.”

“So stop worrying. The book will be great. I’ll see you Saturday.” He hung up and Piper leaned back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. She should have asked Wayne about the antiques again. Three weeks ago he’d promised to go through Marcus’s paperwork, see if there were any sales records for three items that were missing from the collection Piper had inherited from Marcus. He had yet to do it, despite the fact that she’d reminded him several times.

She’d have to ask him when she saw him Saturday. For now, she’d do what he had suggested and try to stop worrying. The caramel cheesecake in her refrigerator would go a long way to help with that. She pushed away from the desk, sighing when the phone rang again.

Grayson’s number flashed across the caller ID and Piper let the machine pick up.

“Piper, I know you’re there.”

That didn’t mean she wanted to listen to her oldest brother’s lecture.

“I’m home. I can be at your house in fifteen minutes.”

Piper grabbed the phone. “I’m sorry, so you can skip any lecture you might have planned.”

“No lecture, even though you didn’t ask Jake to call me and I had to track him down to get the whole story. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I am.”

“Good. Now, go check the windows and doors so we can make sure you stay that way.”

She mumbled a complaint, but went anyway, knowing Gray was even more of a worrier than she was. “So, why’d you send Jake? I thought for sure you’d be the one running to my rescue.”

“I would have been, but Maria and I were in Richmond registering for wedding presents at some swanky place.”

“I can’t believe you both managed to find the time. What’d you register for?”

“Plates. Forks. A bunch of kitchen stuff I don’t even know how to use.”

“Does Maria?” The bedroom windows were locked, and Piper stepped out into the hall.

“She says our chef will know what to do with them.”

“A chef? I hope I’m invited to dinner often.” Piper didn’t switch on the light as she moved through the kitchen and into the morning room.

“As often as you like. Not that Maria and I will be there to enjoy the food with you. She works more hours than I do.”

“Is that possible?” She reached for the last window in the room, ready to check the lock. Saw something dark move to block the moonlight. Large. A head. Black. No. A mask. She could see the eyes gleaming. Something slammed into the glass, rattling the window.

Piper screamed. Jumped back, tumbling over the piano bench, righting herself. Grayson’s voice shouted for her attention, but she was too busy running from the room to listen. There was another jarring thud. She imagined glass shattering, the dark figure climbing through the broken window. Coming after her.

She screamed again. Grabbed a steak knife from the kitchen counter as she flew past. The bedroom. She’d climb out the window if the intruder made it inside the house. She held the phone under her chin as she locked the door, her hands shaking so hard it took three tries. Her palm was slick with sweat and the knife slipped from her grasp, falling to the wood floor with a sharp thud. She didn’t bother picking it up. Just hung up on Grayson and dialed 911, her mouth so dry she was afraid she wouldn’t be able speak.