“Enough talking. Shut your mouth.”
Isabel ignored the demand. “You’re right, Freya. I am stupid. Do you know, when I met you, I felt sorry for you? The poor woman who raised a difficult boy on her own. I got it all wrong, didn’t I?
Not that it matters.”
Freya remained silent. Isabel decided to try praise to get her talking.
“It was very clever of you to convince your son and everyone else in Glen MacKenna that he was the rightful heir. So tell me. Is he?”
She still didn’t answer. Isabel wasn’t deterred. “If you were so certain that Clive is Compton’s son, why didn’t you get proof? I know DNA testing wasn’t as sophisticated back then as it is today, but you could do it now. There are enough of Compton’s relatives alive who would be a familial match, including my sisters and me. Why didn’t you insist he get tested?”
“Walter said he could take care of it if it became an issue.”
If it became an issue? Of course it would be an issue. “Is he Clive Compton’s son?” she pressed again.
Freya shrugged. “He could be.”
“You’re a very smart woman. You manipulated everyone to get what you wanted.”
Freya nodded. “Yes, I am smart,” she agreed. Her expression was smug. She sat back and moved the gun a bit farther away from Isabel.
Isabel messed up then. She should have kept silent. “There’s just one problem. Compton gave the land to me.”
“In a couple of hours that won’t be a problem. You’re going to sign the land over to me. If you don’t, you’ll have a little mishap and disappear.” To underscore her point she shoved the barrel of the gun into Isabel again.
Isabel knew Freya planned to kill her either way. Did she think Isabel would believe she’d let her walk away if she signed the land over? And killing her with a bullet wasn’t a little mishap. It was murder.
Freya pulled the cuff of her blouse up to see the time on her watch. Isabel noticed the charm bracelet then. At first glance the cubes dangling from the bracelet looked like dice, but when she looked closer, she realized there were red clown faces on each side. Good God, Freya was the clown-loving freak. “You gave that painting of a clown to Walter MacCarthy, didn’t you?”
The switch in topics must have confused Freya because she made Isabel repeat the question.
“Yes, I gave it to him.”
“Where would you find such a thing?”
“I didn’t find it. I painted it.”
That certainly explained a lot.
“You’re very talented.” Isabel almost choked on the words.
“Yes, I am,” Freya responded condescendingly.
Isabel jumped topics again. “Where are you going to get the papers you think I’ll sign?”
“Walter had everything ready. You were supposed to die in Boston, but Walter was a careful man, and he had a contingency plan.” Freya glanced at her watch again. “All right. We can go now. Follow this road until we reach High Glen Way. It’s busy with traffic, but we’ll only be on it a very short while.”
“Then what?”
“You’ll turn onto a road that will take us up the mountain. You won’t have to worry about traffic.
There won’t be any. Start driving. Now,” she barked.
Isabel put the car in drive and pulled forward.
“Turn right. Not left. Right. What is wrong with you?”
Isabel was scared out of her mind. That’s what was wrong with her. She was trying to concentrate on driving the car and at the same time block out Freya’s annoying screams. She didn’t deliberately try to hit every hole in the road; it just happened that way. Back on the main thoroughfare, there was a roundabout ahead, and Freya told Isabel to turn at the third exit. Isabel missed it several times, and at high speed they flew around and around the circle. By the time Isabel managed to make the turn, her head was spinning, and she nearly rammed another vehicle. It was an SUV, and the driver wasn’t happy. Like the others before, he was honking and shouting at her, but this one was more explicit, giving her a couple of crude hand gestures.
Isabel inadvertently clipped another car as she sped past, but just barely.
They were on High Glen Way for only two minutes, but it was long enough to cause several near crashes. Cars were swerving to get away from her and pulling off to the side. Isabel noticed a couple of drivers were talking on their phones. She hoped they heard Freya screaming and were calling the police.
Isabel had had enough and made a decision. As soon as they stopped, she was going to lunge at Freya and get the gun away from her. She’d have to surprise her and be quick. Real quick.
She increased her speed. In a frenzied panic Freya started slapping Isabel’s shoulder. Then she used her fist. It hurt like the devil. With all the shrieking and punching distracting her, Isabel could barely pay attention to the road or the other cars she was nudging out of the way. She shouted so Freya would hear her. “Stop screaming at me, and stop hitting me. You’re making me nervous.”
Freya continued to smack Isabel’s shoulder. “Slow down. There’s the turn. Take the turn,” she screamed. “Slow down first, then turn. What is wrong with you?”
Isabel didn’t take time to answer. She was busy trying to make the turn without flipping the car over.
She made the turn without killing them and proceeded to drive up a narrow dirt road. There weren’t any cars around now. As they made the climb, the road grew even more narrow and wound in a spiral up a steep hill. On one side of the road was a sharp incline and on the other, a sheer drop.
There was no room to turn around or to make a mistake. With each turn, the car drew dangerously close to the edge.
Freya shouted, “You’re going to go over. Do you want to kill us?”
Isabel answered, though she doubted Freya heard her through all the racket she was making, “If I’m going to die, I’m taking you with me.”
Just as they were nearing a very sharp curve, Isabel stepped on the gas to make Freya think her threat was serious. If she swerved one more foot to the left, the car would plunge off the road and take flight. Freya’s shrieks became even more high-pitched, and she grabbed the door handle. As they reached the bend, the car hit a bump and lurched slightly. The sudden jolt was all it took. Freya—
giving one last shriek—suddenly flung her side door open and threw herself out. Isabel was so shocked she nearly took her hands off the wheel, but somehow she managed to keep control.