Barry was below her. Could she find her way to Patricia’s apartment and use the private entrance there? But that would leave Liam still here at Barry’s mercy. She couldn’t bear to think of what her love was going through two floors below. Was he still alive? She couldn’t lose him again after she’d just found him.
Her hands covered her belly protectively. If only she could find a weapon. Lightning flashed outside the window, and thunder trailed it a second later. The room held only Ceol’s instruments. She picked up her fiddle, taking comfort from the smooth wood.
Think. There had to be some way to reach help. If only there was a signal on her cell phone. Could she creep down the stairs and get to the house phone without being seen by Barry? If she made her way downstairs, she could hide in bedrooms along the way and eventually get to the entry. And Liam.
It was her only hope.
Lightning flashed again, and she heard a creak from behind her. She whirled in time to see Barry come up the secret stairway she’d just used. Dirt streaked his face and blond hair. His shirtsleeve was half torn off. His expression was calm and cold.
“There you are.” The knife was still in his hand, but he held it loosely at his side.
He must have gotten his other key and gone into the locked room.
Alanna backed away a few feet. “Barry, I’m sorry I hurt you. Please don’t hurt the baby.”
He laughed. “I don’t care about your brat.” He took a step toward her. “You’re all I care about, Alanna. You’re mine, no one else’s. I’ve done everything for you, but you still reject me.”
Her mind spun like a hamster wheel. He said he didn’t care about the baby. Could he have been the one who pushed her down the hill, who put the snake in her bed? “Did you try to make me lose the baby?” she asked.
He grinned and advanced another step. “Bingo, sugar.”
The endearment was obscene on his lips. Alanna swallowed down the bile rising in her throat. “Love doesn’t destroy what is important to the other person,” she said softly.
“I didn’t want you nursing another man’s brat,” he said. “I’ll give you a baby of my own.”
The very thought nearly made her gag. She retreated another step. “Where is my sister? Did you marry her too?”
“No.”
“Where is Neila?”
His unblinking stare didn’t change. “Part of nature. You have two choices, Alanna. You can join her, or you can let go of your childish devotion to that ridiculous man downstairs.”
“You killed her?” Though she’d suspected it, hearing it confirmed filled her with grief. She would never have that reunion she’d dreamed of. Her eyes burned and she fought the tears. She had to keep it together to outwit him.
“She laughed at me,” he said. “What is it with you tinkers? You jump from one man to the other. She said she wanted me, then she decided to go back to her husband. No one leaves a Kavanagh.”
Over his shoulder, she saw lights sweep across the driveway. A truck on big tires pulled up outside. In the flashes of lightning, she saw a man jump out and help a woman down from the other side. Grady and Patricia. Would they help her? At least someone could tend to Liam.
Barry seemed oblivious of the truck and its occupants. His feet slid forward a few more inches. “We’ll have a wonderful life, Alanna.” His voice held a plaintive appeal. “I’ll make sure Ceol is a household name. We will fill this house with laughing children. I’ll give you everything a woman dreams of.” He held out his arms. “Come to me, sugar.”
Alanna could no more stop her head from shaking in a no movement than she could stop her retreat. His smile faltered, and his eyes narrowed to slits of gleaming malice. He dropped his left hand but held the knife up in his right.
“I see,” he said slowly. “You’ve made your choice then.” He began to walk toward her with clear intent.
Thirty-Three
The front of Liam’s shirt was soaked with blood, and his vision swam as he regained consciousness. He managed to sit up with his hand plugging the knife hole in his chest.
He coughed and blood spurted from the wound. Not good. It might have nicked his lung because he found it difficult to breathe. He had to get to Alanna though. That madman would kill her. Struggling to his feet, he grabbed the towel Alanna had dropped and wadded it up, then pressed it over the hole in his chest.
His vision blurred, and he feared he might collapse again. He couldn’t allow that. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to move toward the living room. The phone was in there, and he could call for help. Staggering through the doorway into the parlor, he focused on his goal: the telephone that sat on the stand by the sofa.
When he reached it, he dialed 9–1–1 and got a message to hold. Probably the switchboard was lit up with calls relating to the storm that was raging outside. The wind hadn’t reached its full fury yet, but it would soon.
He left the phone connected and staggered back toward the stairway. He had reached the entry when the front door opened and the wind blew two figures into the house. Patricia and Grady stood dripping in front of the door. Grady reached back and slammed the door shut.