The Unkindness of Ravens, M. Hilliard [romantic books to read txt] 📗
- Author: M. Hilliard
Book online «The Unkindness of Ravens, M. Hilliard [romantic books to read txt] 📗». Author M. Hilliard
I moved back to the window and looked out. My heart dropped. Sadie Barrett was at the bottom of the drive on her bike. She was circling, looking at the building. Farther down the road I spotted her brothers, and the blond cyclist. Please be a cop. I still couldn’t risk going out there. If I stayed put and called 911 from my cell, the sirens would alert the killer, and Sadie stood between the manor and escape. I was stuck.
I checked the time. Seven minutes until Jennie was due to arrive. Seven minutes hadn’t been enough the last time. This time it would have to be. I said a brief prayer for Jennie’s punctuality, and decided to bluff.
Moving back to the Circ desk, I yelled into the hall.
“Almost done, Anne Marie, be right there.”
Back at the desk, I looked at the motion sensors. They weren’t showing anyone but me. Unless someone was standing completely still, I was the only one in the reading room and there was no one in the hall. If I was going to leave a trail of breadcrumbs, I needed to do it now.
I pulled out my suspect chart and highlighted a name, then folded it into a neat square. I was tucking it into the Miss Marple DVD case when I had an idea.
I grabbed the keyboard and opened the borrower menu. Bingo. Jennie Webber was there with an e-mail contact. I created a hold on her account for the DVD and scanned the barcode. The machine printed out a label and the system automatically sent an e-mail. Putting everything together with a rubber band, I filed under ‘W’ on the hold shelf.
I checked the time again. Five minutes. Still nothing on the motion sensors. Whoever was stalking me was waiting to grab me on my way out, but they weren’t going to wait forever.
I moved into the children’s area, going directly to fairy tales. I flipped through The Complete Works of the Brothers Grimm until I found the story I wanted and marked it with my finger. Back at the desk I folded some of the newspaper articles and tucked them into the book. I generated another hold and added it to the shelf. I repeated the process with the scouting book and created a hold for Sam O’Donnell.
The lights started to go out.
This was no outage. Someone was working their way through the main control panel by the door. First the lights in the hall went out, and then parts of reading room. Only Circulation and the doorways were left on. I was spotlighted in the center of the room.
Two could play that game. I went to the auxiliary light panel and killed every light in the building. I blacked out the computer screen and grabbed my phone. Hoping Sadie was gone from the parking lot, I dialed 911. As soon as the operator answered, I whispered, “Raven Hill Library. Emergency! Send the police!” Then I muted the volume. I wanted to maintain the connection without the sound and light telling the killer where I was. I stuffed the phone in my bra. I wanted it with me, but not obvious.
I checked the alarm panel. Something was moving near the back door. I had to time this perfectly. I picked up my bag and worked my way around the stacks, angling toward the front entrance to the reading room. I waited, peering into the gloomy hallway, until I saw a shadowy figure slip in the other entrance.
I stepped carefully down the hall, avoiding the creaks I knew about, fighting the urge to sprint. Once I got to the far entrance, I’d have enough of a head start to take off, but not until. I catfooted my way along, barely breathing, accompanied only by my distorted image in the antique mirrors that lined the hall. Almost there. I eased left, away from the dim light spilling into the hall from the arched doorway to the reading room, and prepared to bolt.
A ghoulish image loomed out of the darkness, startling me and sending me off balance. An arm went around my throat and I teetered for a moment, looking at my own murky reflection caught in the grip of a figure in black, a hood pulled tightly forward to reveal nothing but two glittering eyes. I regained my balance and the arm tightened around my throat.
“I know who you are, and I know what you did,” I said to the image in the mirror. “You can’t pretend anymore. Too much has happened. Once Joanna died, it was too late.”
“Bitch!” snarled Matthew Prentiss. He swung me around to face him. “You should have minded your own business,” he said, yanking me toward the door. “Now you’ve got to go, too.”
He shoved me into the parking lot. Still no sign of the cavalry. Time to stall.
“You’ll never get away with this.” I pretended to stumble.
“Watch me,” he said, pulling me back to my feet and dragging me to Felicity’s SUV. He shoved me into the driver’s seat, knocking my head against the steering wheel. I saw stars, and by the time they cleared he was next to me, a thin, sharp blade with a delicately jeweled handle held against my neck.
He reached over and started the car.
“Now, you are going to drive down this winding road in this terrible rain and you and my lovely wife are going to have a tragic accident, an accident resulting from an argument when you accuse her of murdering Joanna Goodhue in order to cover up the fact that she arranged my mother’s death. Knowing she’s been found out, she will attempt to stab you with the little knife she has always kept on her desk. In the struggle, the car will go off the road and both of you will be killed.”
“Felicity?”
He jerked his head toward the back seat. I turned and saw a lumpy bundle under a blanket.
“Do you
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