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Death in the Stacks Page 22


  She hunkered down behind the granite counter, peering up and over it as she made her way through the room. There was a doorway on the opposite side of the kitchen, and she headed in that direction, thinking she would work her way through the house room by room until she found Sully and Amy. She could only hope she wasn’t too late.

  Sully was a big guy with military-style fighting skills. Surely he wouldn’t have been taken out by a mild-mannered housewife. Of course, the fact that she was crazy and had already killed someone was not exactly in his favor, but still, he was a big boy, or so she kept telling herself as she tried to beat down the panic that wanted to render her catatonic.

  The dining room opened up in front of her, and she slid into the room, scanning as she went. There was no movement, no sound in the house. It was making her nervous, and she had to force herself to slow down and not hurry.

  Where the hell was Emma, or any of the Briar Creek police for that matter? The town wasn’t that big. How long could it really take for them to get here?

  The dining room led into a living room. The white leather furniture indicated that there were no pets or children in this house. No one who had kids or pets would have chosen white leather. Lindsey crouched as she hurried into the room. It, too, appeared to be empty, so she figured everyone had to be upstairs. She was just passing the double doors that were open to the front foyer when she heard a noise behind her.

  Instinct had her ducking low and spinning just as a heavy glass vase sailed right by her head. A flash of long blond hair much like her own identified Molly Boyle, who shrieked and reached for another glass objet d’art. Lindsey didn’t wait to see if her aim was any better the second time around. Instead, she bolted for the stairs across the foyer and pounded up the steps to the floor above.

  It occurred to her when she was halfway up that she would be trapped on the second floor with a lunatic on the first, but if she could find Sully, then they could overpower Molly. At least, she hoped they could. With no sign of him, she was beginning to worry that Molly had already— No! Lindsey cut off that thought. She couldn’t go there.

  With Molly having spotted her, Lindsey figured she had nothing to lose. She reached the hallway and began to run down it, glancing into rooms as she passed by, yelling, “Sully! Amy! Anyone!”

  The phone in her pocket began to buzz, and she pulled it out and glanced at the display.

  “What’s going on in there?” Robbie asked. “I heard a crash.”

  “It’s Molly,” Lindsey said. “She’s the killer. Is Margaret out there? She’ll tell you.”

  “Margaret? I thought she was the killer,” he said.

  “So did I, but she said that Molly killed Olive to keep her from stealing Kyle back,” Lindsey said. “Molly just tried to bash my head in, so I’m thinking she’s right. Ask Margaret. She should have reached you by now.”

  “I’ll look for her.”

  “Any sign of Emma?”

  “She called and said she’s five minutes out,” he said. “Lindsey, I don’t like this. Get out of the house. Now.”

  “But Sully—”

  “Is a strapping lad and can get his own self out,” Robbie said. “Do this for him. Do it now.”

  “I’m on my way,” Lindsey said. “I’ll leave my phone on.”

  “Be careful, pet,” he said.

  “Always.”

  Lindsey was going to get out of the house. Just as soon as she checked the last two bedrooms. She had no idea where Molly was, and her sense of panic was making her hands shake. She just wanted to find Sully and get the hell out of this crazy house.

  She kept her back to the wall as she moved down the hallway. She was returning past another empty bedroom when an arm shot out and a hand clamped over her mouth and she was yanked into the room.

  She started to buck and fight, but Sully spoke into her ear, “It’s me, Sully. It’s okay.”

  She immediately went limp in relief. When he released her, she spun around and hugged him close.

  “Thank goodness you’re all right,” she said. “I was terrified.”

  “Molly is—”

  “Margaret is—”

  “The killer,” they said together. “No, she’s—” They did it again.

  “You first,” Sully said. “Molly?”

  “She was downstairs,” Lindsey said. She pushed her hood off of her hair and glanced up at him. “She threw a vase at me. I’m pretty sure she thought I was Amy.”

  “Yeah, well, Margaret tried to filet me with a big old knife,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I came in, and she came out swinging. She barely missed me.”

  He held up his arm, and Lindsey felt all of the blood drain from her face when she saw the slash in the fabric of his own sweatshirt. She wobbled a little on her feet.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m okay. I shouted in surprise, and she ran off.”

  “One of them is a murderer,” she said. “I sent Margaret out of the house, but Robbie said he hasn’t seen her. Oh God, what if I was wrong? What if Margaret is the killer? But if she is then what is Molly doing here?”

  “We need to find Amy and get out of here,” he said.

  “I haven’t seen her,” Lindsey said. “You?”

  “No, but Margaret was fighting with someone when I came in,” he said. “I assumed it was Amy but maybe it was Molly.”

  “Maybe she got out already,” Lindsey said. “This whole thing is a nightmare. I mean, is the killer Margaret or Molly? They both have reasons to kill Olive and to go after her daughter.”

  “Two suspects, and both of them are here,” Sully said. He looked at Lindsey, his bright blue eyes narrowed in thought. “Why are they both here?”

  Lindsey felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. She had a sudden chilling thought. Perhaps Amy’s scene at the library meeting hadn’t been the passionate speech of a distraught friend or reunited daughter. Maybe it had been the final lure in a trap.

  “Perhaps Amy was never here,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I mean I think I know who Olive’s killer is, and her name does not begin with an M.”

  Sully stared at her. “Amy?”

  Lindsey nodded. “There was so much misdirection. Paula and me as suspects because Olive was going after our jobs. We were the first targets, but I was visible for the entire party and had an alibi and Paula went underground. So then the suspicion fell on Margaret, since she inherited everything from Olive and it was clear there was no love lost between the sisters, at least on Olive’s part.

  “But that didn’t stick because Margaret proved she was willing to split the estate despite Olive contesting the will. So then there was Molly, seemingly trying to hang on to her husband against Olive’s bid to win him back by using their daughter—a daughter I’m betting Kyle doesn’t even know he has—but there’s one problem there.”

  Sully studied her for a moment and said, “Amy’s not his daughter.”

  “That’s my hunch,” she said.

  “Mine, too,” he agreed. “Otherwise, why wouldn’t Amy have sought her father out before? What was she waiting for?”

  “Maybe she and Olive were trying to figure out a way to fake Amy’s records so it appeared that Kyle was the father,” Lindsey said.

  “It disturbs me that I can see Olive doing something like that.”

  “Me, too. But when you remove all the smoke and mirrors, there’s only one person with a real motive to kill Olive, and that’s Amy. Olive abandoned her as a baby and then found her only to use her. Amy must have hated her for that, especially if Olive promised her money and then didn’t come through. Maybe trying to prove Amy was Kyle’s daughter was too difficult, and Amy was tired of waiting.”

  “And on that horrifying realization, you and I
are leaving,” he said.

  The reality that Amy was most likely Olive’s killer had Lindsey freaked out enough that she didn’t argue. “How? We don’t know where she is, if she’s even here, or when she might strike.”

  “We’re going right out the front door,” he said. “Text Robbie so we don’t scare him stupid.”

  Lindsey fired off the text and then tucked away her phone and took Sully’s hand. He gave her fingers a quick squeeze before leading her out of the bedroom and back into the hallway. It was clear, and they moved toward the stairs as fast as they could, while trying to make no noise. They had just reached the top step when an ominous clicking sounded behind them.

  Sully pushed Lindsey up against the wall and stood in front of her before turning to face the sound. It was Amy Ellers, standing with her feet apart and both hands holding a gun, which was pointed directly at them.

  25

  A terrified feeling of déjà vu swept over Lindsey, making her breath choppy and her body shake. Panic was making her vision tunnel into a little pinpoint that circled around the muzzle of the gun. She closed her eyes for a moment to chase it back.

  “Drop the gun,” Sully said. He didn’t sound afraid at all, and Lindsey let his courage steady her.

  “No,” Amy said. She tipped up her chin, looking like a teenager defying curfew.

  “It’s over, Amy,” Lindsey said. “Both Molly and Margaret are gone. You can’t use them to cover up Olive’s murder anymore.”

  She hoped she sounded sincere. She had no idea where Molly was or why Molly had attacked her. She could only think that Molly must have been so freaked out that with Lindsey’s hood up she had thought Lindsey was Amy, trying to kill her, and it had been pure instinct that made her attack.

  “Well, that’s a pity. They were supposed to kill each other. I used the meeting to clue Margaret in to the fact that I was her long-lost niece—my God, she’s a dense one, isn’t she? And Molly was even easier. I placed one tear-filled call this morning, about how I was Kyle’s daughter but my crazy aunt Margaret was trying to kill me over her inheritance. What a sap. Pro tip: don’t try to save your husband’s estranged daughter by his first wife. It will get you killed. It’s especially stupid, given that I’m not even his.”

  “You’re not?” Lindsey feigned surprise, hoping to keep Amy talking.

  “Please, do I look like the progeny of some stuffy doctor?” Amy scoffed. “Olive told me I was the product of a torrid affair she had with some artist guy. Apparently, I have his eyes. No matter. For my purposes, pretending to be the doctor’s kid was working for me.”

  “You’re mental,” Sully said.

  “Am I? Or am I just really good at getting people to do what I want? I guess I’ll just have to frame Olive’s murder on you two then, won’t I?” Amy let go of the gun with one hand and tapped her chin with her index finger. The happy pink of her nail polish caught Lindsey’s gaze.

  With her amber eyes and dark hair, she looked so innocent, not the type to stab her birth mother in cold blood or hold a gun on people while threatening their lives. When she smiled at them, it was the first time Lindsey had ever seen the smile reach her eyes. It was chilling.

  “Oh, I’ve got it!” Amy said. “Lindsey the librarian killed Olive Boyle because Olive was going to fire her. When I figured it out, Lindsey came after me, but her big, burly boyfriend arrived and tried to stop her from killing poor little me, the innocent victim of Lindsey’s psychotic rage. Unfortunately, he had to kill her to stop her, and then, distraught over killing his love, he shot himself.”

  She put the back of her wrist to her forehead in a feigned look of despair.

  “Such drama,” she said. “The newspapers will eat it up.”

  “No, they won’t,” Lindsey snapped. “That story will never fly. Too many people know we’re here. Too many people know you’re the real killer. You’ll never get away with it.”

  “Sure I will. I will convince Molly and Margaret that they got played by you two, and I will cry the big tears and make everyone feel sorry for me,” Amy said. Her voice was so confident, it actually made Lindsey nervous. “And then I’ll do what I do best: I’ll disappear. Now where should we set the stage?”

  She glanced around the stairs as if considering the placement of furniture as opposed to dead bodies. The sound of tires squealing interrupted her, and she glanced out the window.

  “Oh dear, the police are here,” she said. “Sorry, kids, but your time is up.”

  She put her free hand back on the gun and took aim. Sully yanked Lindsey to the floor and covered her body with his at the same time that someone erupted out of one of the bedroom doors with a yell.

  Robbie took Amy down in a flying tackle. Molly and Margaret were right behind him. Molly was holding a glass vase, looking ready to bring it down on Amy’s head, while Margaret snatched the gun out of Amy’s hands and held it out with two fingers, off to one side and pointing down as if it might go off all by itself.

  “Get off me,” Amy thrashed. She started kicking Robbie, so Molly sat down on her legs while Robbie grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back.

  “Sorry, pet, but you’re not going anywhere but jail,” he said.

  The front door crashed open, and Emma dashed up the stairs with Kili right behind her.

  “Exclusive,” Kili cried. “I demand an exclusive.”

  “Calm down or I’ll toss you out on your backside,” Emma said.

  “Are you threatening me?” Kili countered. “When I just interviewed the Elkerson family in Alaska and learned all sorts of interesting facts about our little Amy Ellers, really Elkerson, here?”

  “All right, you can stay, but no questions until I say.”

  Kili nodded. Emma took in the scene in front of her and blew out a breath. In one long sentence, she read Amy her rights while she took the cuffs off her belt and clipped them onto Amy’s wrists. Before Robbie could stand up, she grabbed his face and kissed him hard on the mouth.

  “When I say wait outside, I mean wait outside,” she said.

  “Don’t be mad at him,” Sully said. He shifted off of Lindsey and helped her into a seated position. “Robbie saved our lives.”

  Robbie raised his eyebrows at Sully’s use of his first name, and Sully shrugged.

  Emma looked at Lindsey. “I think our men are becoming friends.”

  “’Bout time,” she said.

  “You can’t arrest me,” Amy sputtered. “I’m not the killer. They are!”

  Officer Kirkland, a big, redheaded hunk of a guy, bounded up the stairs. He took the scene in at a glance. “Aw, man, I always miss all of the action.” Emma glanced at him with one eyebrow raised, and he said, “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine. Take Ms. Ellers out to the car, and do not let her out of your sight,” Emma said. “I’ll be right out.”

  Kirkland lifted Amy up by the elbow and guided her down the stairs. She started protesting immediately.

  “Ow, you’re hurting me! Ow, oh, I think you broke my arm. Police brutality! You’re my witnesses. He’s beating me!” she hollered all the way out the door and into the yard.

  “You’re my witness that she’s lying,” Emma said to Kili.

  “Yep,” Kili agreed. “And I’m going to keep being a witness.” She hurried down the stairs after them.

  “Are you all okay?” Emma asked the group.

  Both Margaret and Molly nodded, Robbie grunted and Sully and Lindsey reached for each other’s hands, twining their fingers together as if to reassure themselves, once again, that they’d made it out alive.

  Emma took the gun from Margaret, and Molly put the vase she’d been clutching down on the floor. She was pasty pale and shaking, and Margaret didn’t look much better.

  “How did the three of you get up here?” Lindsey asked.

  “After I threw that vase at you—s
orry, I thought you were Margaret,” Molly said, “I ran out the front door right into Robbie.”

  “And I felt horrible for leaving you,” Margaret said. “I was climbing back in an open side window when these two showed up and tried to pull me out, thinking I was the killer.”

  “We had a brief scuffle,” Robbie said. It was then that Lindsey noticed he had scratches on his forearms and what appeared to be a bruise on his cheekbone. “Whilst these two accused each other of murdering Olive. Upon further discussion, we realized they both had alibis, and it occurred to us that the situation was being manipulated. That’s when we figured out that Amy was actually orchestrating the whole thing.”

  “So we all climbed in the window and came up the back staircase, hoping to reach you before she did,” Molly said.

  “Your timing was epic,” Sully said. He ran his free hand over his face and then squeezed Lindsey’s shoulder as if to reassure himself that she was fine.

  “All right, let’s get out of here,” Emma said. “I think you could all use some fresh air and sunshine before we head down to the station.”

  They arrived outside to find Kyle, Molly’s husband, waiting for her. He raced forward and grabbed her and held her close.

  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” he said. “Olive never told me that we had a child.”

  Lindsey paused beside them. “You didn’t.”

  “What?” He pulled back.

  “Amy told us she isn’t your daughter,” she said. “Olive had an affair, and Amy was the result.”

  “It’s true,” Sully seconded her.

  Molly sagged against Kyle. “I know it’s stupid, but I’m really glad I’m the only woman you’ve had children with. I always felt like it was the only thing I had to offer you that Olive didn’t.”

  “Oh no, Molls, you have given me so much more than she ever could, unconditional love being up there at the top with our kids,” he said. “You’ve never been second to her, ever. It was my guilt over loving you so much more than I could ever love her that made me try to help her when she called. I never loved her like I love you. My God, if I lost you . . .”