Desperation breeds desperation. He was on a downward spiral and only making matters worse for himself.
“Two birds with one stone,” Gabriel said. “I knew it was only a matter of time before your questions turned toward me. You’re too tenacious. Too smart. I saw the kerosene, I had the matches in my pocket . . .”
Apparently not as smart as I would like to be, as I had called him tonight for help . . . and there were some things I still hadn’t figured out. “You blackmailed Hyacinth about Virgil, Barbara Jean about her gambling, and Idella about her embarrassing family history . . . How did you know about Avery Bryan?”
“I dug a little into Haywood’s past. I recalled how suddenly Twilabeth had fled town after their divorce, and I hoped it would lead me to some dirt on Haywood. It did.”
“And Patricia?” I asked. “Were you blackmailing her about her relationship with Dylan?”
“About how he was secretly adopted, you mean? Yes, all the Harpies know. It’s old news.”
“Do you know who Dylan’s parents are?” I asked, curious if he knew the whole truth.
“Don’t know, don’t care. All I cared about was that Patricia was willing to pay to keep Dylan from finding out.”
Buying time, I asked, “Did you burn the letters at Haywood’s?” I suspected he did because I had smelled that pipe tobacco, but I wanted confirmation.
“Yes. I slipped out of the ball during all the commotion of the emergency crews arriving and used the key hidden in his mailbox to go inside. I found them rather quickly in his office. I had to get rid of them before anyone else found them. I wanted the Harpies to keep on believing he was the blackmailer.”
My witchy senses were acting up a storm, which meant there was danger in the air. After revealing all he had to me, I couldn’t imagine Gabriel would simply let me walk away. I just hadn’t quite come up with a way to get out of here yet.
“Why not take the letters with you?”
“I had to get back to Idella at the ball,” he said simply, “and I didn’t want them on me. There was no time to take them home to shred.”
“But—”
“No more questions, Carly. Please. Now, I hate to do this,” he said solemnly, “but I have no choice. You know much too much.”
I was confused for a moment until I saw the syringe he’d prepped earlier in his hand. He lurched forward, intent on stabbing me with the needle, and I dropped and rolled out of his reach just in time.
“You’re just delaying the inevitable,” he said, his voice cracking a bit. “It will only hurt for a second. Then you’ll just go to sleep and not wake up.”
“Dylan knows I’m here,” I said, scrambling to my feet. I glanced around frantically for something to use as a weapon, but there was nothing. Nothing at all. Only a very sick little dog, and my wits.
Both of which were virtually useless.
“I’ll say you left after dropping off Louella,” he countered.
“My Jeep’s out front.”
“I’ll drive it into the river in a spot where it will never be found.”
I had to make a run for it. It was my only hope. I sent a silent message to Louella that I’d come back for her, and as soon as I could I darted toward the door. I was almost through it—so close—when I felt his hand once again clamp down on my arm. I spun and grabbed his free wrist as he was bringing it downward, squeezing it as hard as I could in hopes that he’d drop the syringe.
He didn’t.
I stomped, I kicked, I fought for my life.
But he was strong. So much stronger than he looked, and suddenly I realized that if I hadn’t made that healing potion for him that I might not be in this situation right now. That Haywood might have been alive.
I screamed. Screamed with regrets and fear and rage.
There was a tormented look in his eyes as he fought back.
“Hiiiisssssss!”
The noise came from behind me, and I startled. I knew that noise.
Haywood appeared and circled us, hissing repeatedly in Doc’s ear. I hadn’t felt him arrive by the usual method—a headache—because he’d already begun to fade away.
His killer had been found, and he was crossing over.
Once Gabriel realized it wasn’t me making the noise, he stiffened, his eyes wide.
“Hiiiissss!”
The noise grew weaker.
Haywood pointed to his eyes, his index and middle fingers in the shape of a peace sign. He made a poking motion, then hissed for all he was worth until he vanished completely.
Gabriel froze and looked around. I took advantage of his distraction, let go of his wrist, and poked him in the eye as hard as I could. He dropped my arm as he yowled, and I bolted. I sprinted down the hall, through the reception area, out the door, into the night filled with flashing blue and red cruiser lights, and straight into Dylan’s arms.
Chapter Twenty-five