As Darkness Fell Page 19

  “Did you kill him?”

  “I don’t know, but we have to get out and hide in the woods. And we have to hurry. The engine’s on fire.”

  “I can’t get out. I’m going to die,” Trudy wailed. “Even if that man doesn’t kill me, I’m going to burn to death in this truck.”

  “We’re not going to die. I won’t let us.” But there were flames mixed with the smoke escaping from the hood now. They had minutes at the most. Maybe seconds.

  Still, Caroline had to move with care. If she fell getting out of the truck, she’d have difficulty getting up again with her ankles bound. She might be able to roll to safety, but there would be no way for Trudy to open the back door of the truck.

  She sucked in a deep breath of the smoky air, then slid to the ground. Her feet twisted, but she managed to fall against the truck and keep her balance.

  “Come help me, Daphne.”

  Her heart raced even faster at the sound of Ron’s voice. And then she turned and saw him, lying on the ground, his right leg bloody and crushed. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t manage to do more than pull himself along in the high grass.

  She turned away, nausea increasing, but she had to keep moving. Time was running out.

  “You and me, we’re soul mates, Daphne. You can’t let me die.”

  “I can’t help you, Ron. There’s no time. And my feet are tied. I couldn’t pull you away from the truck even if there was time.”

  “Then get my gun out of the truck so that I can kill myself before the car explodes.”

  But even if she could have done that, he wouldn’t have shot himself, not until he’d killed her first.

  She pressed her hands against the side of the truck to help her balance as she hopped toward the back of the vehicle. And all the while the flames coming from the hood shot higher. Sparks were catching in the wind, flying through the trees. All it would take was one colliding with the gas tank. One misplaced spark and they would all be dead.

  Finally she made it to the back and was able to free the latch and lift the door. “Roll toward the door, Trudy. I’ll help you out.”

  “I can’t, Caroline. I can’t move. The rope around my feet is caught on something.”

  “You have to work it free, Trudy. And you have to hurry.” She couldn’t keep the panic from her voice anymore. She didn’t want to die.

  “I can’t get it loose. You have to help me.” Trudy was crying, bordering on hysteria. “Please help me.”

  Caroline tried to jump into the truck, but she couldn’t get any leverage with her feet tied. She could just fall to the ground and roll to safety now. But if she did, she’d have to live with Trudy’s screams for help ringing in her ears for the rest of her life.

  She couldn’t do it, couldn’t leave Trudy to die alone. She fell to a heap and started tugging again, at the rope around her ankles. It seemed to take forever, but finally she worked the knot loose. Then she climbed on the back bumper and hoisted herself into the back of the paneled truck.

  The rope that bound Trudy’s ankles wasn’t caught on anything. It was tied to a steel rod that was welded to the side wall of the truck. The smoke was so thick now that Caroline could barely breathe, but she kept struggling with the snarl of frayed rope. She needed the knife, but the cab of the truck was engulfed in flames now. The gas tank would go at any second.

  The rope had been tied too tightly. It wasn’t going to work free. Caroline crawled behind Trudy and linked her hands with Trudy’s bound ones. “We have to hold hands,” she said, choking on smoke and tears.

  “How will that help?”

  “I don’t know. I only know that it does. Hold on tight and think pleasant thoughts.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking that loving Sam Turner even for that short time has made my life worthwhile.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sam had already called the state police and told them to drive to the old Meyers Bickham orphanage. He was driving there himself, sirens blaring, pedal to the metal.

  He couldn’t be certain that was where R.J. had taken Caroline, but it seemed a place R.J., with his twisted logic, would choose. And it was the only place Sam knew to try.

  The road was dark. He’d hardly passed a soul in the last hour. But then it was already the wee hours of the morning.

  It surprised him when he saw flames ahead. Maybe someone burning trash, though it was late for that. Or a stranded hitchhiker who’d built a fire to keep warm.

  He was almost to it when he saw the truck with fire and smoke pouring from the engine. Damn. This was the last thing he needed tonight.

  But there was no way he could drive by without making sure no one was trapped inside. He slammed on his brakes, barely controlling his own vehicle as he pulled to the shoulder, far enough in back of the truck that his car wouldn’t catch on fire if the truck exploded.

  It looked as though it might at any second. He’d have to be careful. No use risking his life if the occupants were out and safe. That’s when he heard a woman crying, and it sounded as if it were coming from inside the truck. He took off running.

  “Get out of that truck now! It’s going to blow!”

  “Sam.”

  He knew the voice. Relief and panic collided inside him as Caroline stuck her head out from the back of the burning truck.

  “Get out and run,” he screamed.

  “I can’t. Trudy’s inside. She’s tied to a railing and I can’t get her free.”

  His feet flew the last few steps.

  “Is that you, Sam?”

  “R.J.” Sam looked around, expecting to see his stepbrother standing there, pointing a gun at him.

  “He’s on the ground in front of the truck,” Caroline said. “He’s hurt bad. I don’t think he can move.”

  “Then he can’t hurt you.” He lifted her out of the truck. “Run, Caroline! Get as far away from the truck as you can,” Sam called, already leaping into the back of the truck. He took out his pocket knife and sawed through the gnarled rope. When Trudy’s feet were free, he grabbed her and pulled her with him.

  Caroline was still standing there, as if in shock. He reached for her hand and dragged both women to safety.

  The gas tank blew before they’d gone a dozen feet. They fell to the ground, Sam shielding Caroline’s body with his as the sky rained fire and bits of metal and rubber.

  When the explosion stilled, Sam cut the rope from Trudy’s hands. They stood up slowly, one by one. Sam stood looking at the truck that had almost claimed their lives. The fire was still burning and the acrid smoke burned his eyes. R.J. had rolled to safety, but he wasn’t going anywhere, not with the shape his leg was in. Nowhere except back to prison.

  Sam pulled Caroline into the circle of his right arm. He reached out the other to Trudy, and together the three of them huddled in the fiery glow of chaos.

  But all Sam felt was sweet relief and a passion for life he’d never known before.

  “How did you find us, Sam?”

  “R.J.’s computer message. And Frederick Lee Billingham.”

  He couldn’t say more. His emotions were too raw. So he just held on to the woman he knew he’d love for the rest of his life.

  Epilogue

  Three months later

  It was late May, the time of year when all of Georgia was perfumed with spring flowers and bathed in sunshine. The Billingham house was no different. Azaleas painted the lawn in shades of pinks and reds, and lilies cloaked in brilliant yellow nodded in the spring breeze.

  A sprawling white tent, open on all sides, was set up in the backyard with a portable dance floor and tables topped with white linen cloths. A gleaming silver coffee server rested on one of the tables, a find from the Billingham basement, which Caroline had thoroughly raided over the last three months. And a four-piece band was already setting up in one corner of the tent for the late-afternoon wedding of Sam Turner and Caroline Kimberly.

  “YOU LOOK absolutely beau
tiful,” Becky said. “I’d like to hug you, but your dress is so exquisite and fragile-looking, I don’t dare.”

  “The dress has been around for more than a hundred years. I don’t think a hug from my maid of honor will destroy it.” Caroline opened her arms and they embraced.

  “You look happy,” Becky said.

  “I’ve never been so happy. I never dreamed I’d find someone like Sam.”

  “You deserve each other, and I mean that in the best possible way. You’re living proof that no matter what the background, some people overcome it and turn into beautiful, decent people. And here I go getting all sappy when that’s what you’re supposed to be doing today.”

  “I’m sure I will. I just haven’t gotten warmed up yet. But I know what you mean. I’ve thought about that a lot since the night we all came so close to death. Jack probably had everything he wanted growing up, but look how he turned out, compared to you.”

  “And you and R.J. both lived at least part of your lives in a frightful orphanage, but he wound up a vicious psychopath while you can’t bear to even watch someone kill a bee.”

  “That was a honeybee you were swatting this morning. Honeybees perform a valuable service.”

  “See what I mean?”

  “And then there’s my Sam. He definitely didn’t grow up in a nurturing family. But he’s warm and loving and brave and strong and—”

  Becky held up a hand to stop her. “Enough already. So, the guy walks on water.”

  “He is great. But I think everyone possesses the potential to be good or evil, and somewhere along the way, they make a decision that starts them down one path or the other. And if they just keep walking, they reach the destination—for good or for bad.”

  “You sound so fatalistic.”

  “No, and I don’t mean it that way. I just mean that no one chooses what obstacles they encounter along the path, but everyone chooses their own destiny. R.J. chose his and tried to choose a destiny for me and for Sam, as well. But he forgot that we had choices, too.”

  Becky stepped behind her, their two faces almost blending in the wavy mirror. “I’m just thankful our paths crossed. And that you and Sam were there when I almost made a tragic mistake. I still shudder to think how taken in I was by Jack.”

  Caroline turned at the sound of footsteps on the staircase.

  “Hate to interrupt girl talk, but I’d like to talk to my beautiful bride for a few minutes before the wedding.”

  Becky jumped in front of Caroline. “You can’t. It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

  “Nothing about seeing Caroline is bad luck.”

  Becky looked at the clock on the mantel. “The ‘Wedding March’ starts playing in ten minutes.”

  “Thanks for that update, maid of honor. Now why don’t you run downstairs and make sure my best man is still breathing? Weddings make Matt extremely nervous.”

  When Becky scurried off, Caroline turned to Sam. “Hello, Detective,” she said, sliding her arms around his neck. “What’s so urgent? And no quickies. We only have ten minutes.”

  “I have a little something I want to give you before the wedding, Reporter Lady.”

  “A present?”

  “Not exactly, because you’ll probably have to pay for part of it.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a printed form and handed it to her.

  She studied it for a moment. “It’s a… Omigosh! This is a mortgage agreement for a house—for this house.”

  “You do want it, don’t you?”

  “Want it? Oh, Sam, I love this house!”

  “Now it’s ours.”

  “But the money. How will we pay for it?”

  “We’ll work and pay the mortgage. But don’t look so frightened. The mortgage payment won’t be any more than you were paying in rent. It seems that Barkley Billingham’s grandmother has wanted to sell the house for years, but just couldn’t find the right buyer.”

  “Probably because her grandson told everyone who looked at it that the house was haunted.”

  “Could be. At any rate, she only had one stipulation for the great price she’s giving us. Frederick Lee has to maintain his place of honor until she’s dead and buried. She wants no woe.”

  “I would never dream of removing Frederick Lee.”

  “I told her that.”

  “Oh, Sam, I love you. Kiss me.”

  “Okay, but don’t start anything you can’t finish quick. The ‘Wedding March’ starts in three minutes, and I don’t want to miss a single beat.”

  Neither did Caroline.

  Three minutes later she took her first step toward her groom, but just as she did, she caught a glimpse of the portrait hanging at the top of the stairs. She could have sworn that the stern-faced Frederick Lee winked.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-3749-0

  AS DARKNESS FELL

  Copyright © 2004 by Jo Ann Vest

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