Murphy's Law (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #1)

"I'm sorry about this. I really am." The wad of cotton was choking me and the scarf was covering my nose so that it was hard to breathe. "You have to understand," he said as he dragged me toward the trunk. I caught a glimpse of his eyes.

They were not triumphant as I expected them to be, but darting nervously around the room, the eyes of a trapped animal. "You have to understand that I can't go on living like this any longer--waking up every day and wondering if this will be the day they'll find out about me and Plumbridge. And living with all that guilt. I was just twenty-one, for God's sake. I was the one they caught and they started torturing me. I would have said anything to make them stop. And when they let me go, I thought I was free." He was tipping unnecessary items out of the trunk. He

glanced at me. "You probably don't have a clue what I'm talking about, do you?"

He had made enough room in the trunk. He ripped off the whiskers and I saw that he was really quite young. A young, harmless face just as you'd see in any Irish village. A spasm of pain crossed his face. "When I saw Donny sitting there on the bench, I knew I had to take my one chance. So I stayed on the island and I followed him. And if you hadn't seen me ..."

He lifted me to my feet by my neck. Then he was pressing on my throat. He was going to kill me here after all. The blood roared in my head. Feign death before he really kills you, a voice whispered through the roaring. I let myself go limp. He picked me up like a piece of baggage and stuffed me into his trunk among the clothing. The lid slammed shut. I knew I should try to do something but I kept floating in and out of consciousness. I was crammed in there so tightly that there wasn't room to move, anyway. To know that Daniel was so close and had not come to my aid was a final, frustrating blow. Even if he found the note now, it would be too late.

Suddenly the trunk was moved. I was being bumped and tumbled, then carried. I heard cheerful voices exchanging greetings. "Thank you, George, you've been most helpful."

"So sorry you have to leave early, Mr. Brady."

"Ah, well, that's show business, as we say. Shove that thing into the back of the cab, boys. Yes, I know it's heavy. These props weigh a ton. Anyone would think I'd got a body in here! Ha-ha-ha."

I landed with one final thump, lying upside down. I tried to turn my head so that I could breathe what little air remained. There was a keyhole. I just prayed enough air was coming in through it. Not that staying alive was going to help me. I'd only drown when I was thrown into the water, but I wasn't going to give up hope until the last second of my life.

I felt the trunk rattled and shaken as a carriage sped off. So Daniel hadn't suspected and now it was too late. What a stupid ending, I thought. So many dreams, so many hopes, and it was all going to end like this. If only I could have landed a good kick on Billy Brady, the way I had kicked Justin, I would

have enjoyed seeing him lying dead beside my kitchen stove. It annoyed me that I hadn't been quick enough or smart enough or strong enough. It's stupid being a woman, was one of my final thoughts before I blacked out again.

I came to with a jolt. We were no longer moving. The trunk must have been taken from the cab. I heard it scraping on concrete as I was half carried, half dragged. This must be it, then. The dock with the ice-cold water waiting below. How long did it take to drown? Hadn't I heard that it was a pleasant death--except that I couldn't imagine any death being pleasant.

"Good-bye little lady," I heard Billy's voice above me. "I'm sorry it had to end like this. I really am."

I was hurtling downward. The blow when the trunk hit the water smashed my face against the wall of the trunk. Icy water rushed over me, so cold that it took my breath away. I tried to gasp and nearly swallowed the cotton jammed in my mouth. My heart almost stopped as I fought to breathe. The icy water was in my face now. I tried to move my foot and suddenly it kicked free. So did the other one. The trunk must have broken open as it hit the water. Unfortunately I was underneath it, but that was easily remedied. One thing I could do as well as any boy was swim. I'd had my training in the cold, rough Atlantic breakers and I could still beat my brothers in a race across the bay. How lucky that Brady hadn't thought to bind my arms.

I struck out and gave a mighty kick that propelled me to the surface. Above me reared the blackness of the dock and behind it lights were twinkling. All I had to do was swim ashore--except that the heavy woolen dress was weighing me down and I found it hard to breathe through that gag. It was so tantalizingly close. Surely I could make it. Then I realized something else--the current was taking me out. I was being swept along the shoreline by an outgoing tide. I fought against it, but I was just about holding my own. The shore was no nearer and the cold was beginning to overcome me. It was getting harder and harder to move my arms.