The Bogus Biker (19 page)

“Let her go. As they say in the movies, this is between you and me.”

Penelope tried to home in on the location of Sam’s voice, but the man’s viselike grip on her neck prevented her head from moving.

“Oh, it’s between you and me, Bart, you’re right about that. And we’ll have a nice long talk as soon as I get rid of the extra ears.”

“Let her go, or we won’t talk.”

“I think we will. I know things, remember?”

Penelope struggled a little without accomplishing anything except causing the man to tighten his grip.
You know things. Sam knows things. I’m the only one who doesn’t know anything, like what I’m doing here.

“You’re wrong. You just think you know something.”

Now, Nellie, if you’re ever in a situation…you know what I mean…a jam…you go for the place you’re not supposed to know about.
Jake’s words, spoken so many years ago, slammed into her mind.
A knee, a fist, an elbow…anything will work. Hit hard, Nellie. In a situation like that, you can’t worry about being a lady.

Penelope considered her options. With her back to the man, a knee was out of the question, and an elbow was too high. A fist…how much damage could she do with a fist from this angle?
And where will I go that he can’t find me? Not back to the house. That’s the first place he’d look, although if I could get to the study and get another gun…no, I’d have to load it, and that takes time.

“Come out where I can see you, Bart.”

“I don’t think so.” Sam’s voice seemed to move farther away.

Don’t leave me, Sam. He wouldn’t do that—
or would he? He didn’t get me into bed, but he blessed sure got me into this mess. No…no, he didn’t, not on purpose anyway.

“One more chance, Rick.
Let her go.”

“If you shoot, assuming you hit me, I’ll break her pretty little neck before I go down.” The man moved around a tombstone Penelope recognized as belonging to one of the earliest
Pembrokes. Her mother-in-law tended the cemetery so long as she was able and often asked Penelope to come with her. Over the years, before she’d left Travis, Penelope had developed an interest in the stories of the long dead. Now she remembered this one, a little girl, a child of eleven or twelve, dead of some nameless scourge that took the young and the weak.

When the man stopped behind the waist high marker, Penelope could see it clearly. When the small weeping angel on top had broken off years ago, Travis’s mother had done what she could to mend it with mortar she’d mixed herself. It perched there still, slightly askew. Was it loose? Penelope extended her fingers to touch it.

I have to use both hands, and I can’t hit him in the…I can’t hit him there. I have to get it over my head into his face, and I have to do it hard enough to startle him into letting me go. Then I’ll run into the woods, to the ruins of the old cabin. Maybe I can find the root cellar and…

“Come on, Bart, let me see you.”

Something flew toward them, landing to the right. Another missile landed on the left. Penelope could feel the man moving his head from side to side.

Black walnuts.
Sam’s throwing black walnuts. I know where he is now.

Left, right, left right, the nuts continued to fly, some landing with no sound on the grass, but others pinging against the tombstones.

Keep on, Sam. You’ve got him spooked now. He’s not holding onto me so tight.
Crossing herself mentally and uttering a prayer to St. Jude, the patron saint of hopeless causes, Penelope lunged for the weeping angel and felt it fall away from the stone into her waiting hands. Raising it over her head, she thrust it backward in one swift motion. The man howled in pain. She was free.

Penelope began to sprint toward the fence.
I can make the hurdle. I can do it. Daddy’s watching. He took off from work just to make this track meet. He’ll be so proud of me if I just make this last hurdle.
She fell to her knees as she vaulted across the fence, but she was up and running again before she took time to catch her breath. The tennis shoes flopped but held to her feet. She’d twisted her left knee, but she was alive. If she had any chance to stay that way, she had to keep going. She heard the gunshot behind her, but she didn’t look back.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Sam’s arms cradled her like a child as he carried her back to the car. Too exhausted to speak, or even cry, she locked her hands behind his neck and laid her head against his shoulder. He drove away from the Point at a speed unsafe on the curving road and didn’t stop until he’d reached Rosedale Bridge. Then he turned to her. “Are you hurt?”

“I killed a man,” she murmured, not opening her eyes.

“Small loss to the world.”

She burst into tears. “You don’t understand! I’ve committed murder, and I can’t even confess it to a priest or…”

He grabbed her roughly. “Stop it! He’d have killed you. Is that what you wanted?”

“No, but…”

“Then stop beating yourself up for something you had to do.”

“Did you kill the other one in the cemetery?”

“I hope so.”

“Dear God, Sam, what kind of man
are you?”

He got out of the car and pulled something from his pocket. Penelope could hear him talking on a cell phone, but she couldn’t understand his words. When he climbed back into the car, he said, “I’ll take you home.”

Her body shook with sobs. He gathered her into his arms again. “Shhh, shhh, it’s all right. You’re alive. I’m alive.”

“But I…”

“God knows what went on tonight. Do you think He’s going to send you to Hell for surviving?”

She lifted her face. “Do you believe in God, Sam?”

“I used to. Maybe I still do a little. Someone was giving us a hand out there tonight.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her, lightly at first, then hard.

For a moment she forgot everything but the warmth of his presence and the throb of desire pulsing inside her.

“Admit it,” he whispered. “You like me just a little bit.”

“I don’t want to,” she whispered back. “Who are you, Sam? If I just knew that much…”

“You’re just going to have to trust me for now.”

“Can I?”

“Yes. Yes, you can.” He kissed her again. “We’re survivors, Penelope Pembroke. And we’re alive. I learned a long time ago to live with what I had to live with. When I consider the alternative, it’s an easy choice. You’ll figure it out.”

“What’s going to happen now?”

“Nothing. You weren’t out there tonight.”

“You want me to lie about it if Bradley…”

“When the sun comes up, nobody except the already buried dead will be there.”

“You mean…”

“You have to trust me. Your son will never know what went on out there tonight.”

She shook her head. “I’ll know. I’ll always live with what I did tonight.”

“You could’ve died if you hadn’t done it.”

“You’re sure of that.”

He stroked her hair and face. “What I won’t live with easily is that I put you in harm’s way. Even if I didn’t do it on purpose, I put your life at risk.”

“You really care about that, don’t you?”

He nodded. “I really care.” He let her go and started the car.

He parked as close to the back veranda as possible and left the car running. “Go inside and clean up. It’s over.”

She put her hand on the door handle, then remembered the forty-five. “Travis’s gun is out there somewhere.”

“No, it’s not. Don’t worry about it.”

She took a last long look at the face she’d probably never see again. The lines ran deeper, the eyes looked more haunted, and she knew she loved that face and the man who wore it.

“Go on,” he said.

Her father was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee when Penelope limped in. The small car sputtered as it chugged away, but Jake gave no sign of having heard it. “It’s been a long time since I waited up for you, Nellie.”

“I know, Daddy.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not now.” She fell into a chair.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nothing serious.”

“If you say so.” He went to the cabinet and filled another mug and set it in front of her.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“Need something stronger in it?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He sat down facing her again.

“Who was that masked man?”

She shook her head.

“Uh-huh. Did he happen to leave behind a silver bullet?”

Penelope laid her face against the table. “Only in my heart, Daddy.” She felt Jake’s hand rest on her head, almost in a blessing. “Only in my heart.”

Look for more Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mysteries coming soon to Amazon. 

Book 2:
The Stubborn Schoolhouse Spirit

When Penelope agrees to help the mayor’s wife turn the old school into a community center, she isn’t counting on what she’ll find at the bottom of the 13 steps leading to the basement.

Book 3:
The Feed Store Floozy

A former Amaryllis resident returns to open an antique store in a building which has had many lives, including a saloon/parlor house. But
Peneope and the other residents of the town aren’t counting on the murder and mayhem he brings with him.

Book 4:
 
The Possum Hollow Hullabaloo

Penelope keeps the B&B slick as a whistle, but when the secrets of a forgotten community deep in the woods outside Amaryllis begin to leak out, she finds herself in the middle of a mess she can’t clean up.

Book 5:
 
The Larcenous Legacy

The new priest of St. Hyacinth’s brings a breath of fresh air to the parish, but something about an ordination gift from his immigrant grandfather is rattling the bones of evil past and present.

Book 6: 
Sam’s Last Stand

Tiny the biker, aka Sam, is back again, and Penelope is head over heels in love—but if Sam can’t let go of his dark past, they have no future.

Visit Penelope online

http://www.thepenelopepembrokecozymysteryseries.yolasite.com