The Woman Who Couldn't Scream (Virtue Falls #4)

“What Carl wrote?”

“On the floor. With his blood. He used his finger dipped in blood. I was trying to read it when you came up behind me. He wrote”—she closed her eyes and tried to visualize it—“WAS ON. Or WES UN. Or…” She opened her eyes. “I don’t know. I can’t remember for sure, and there was so much blood it had blurred the … letters.” Her memory of the scene would be forever joined with horror and fear, and she rolled back onto the bed to allow her nausea to subside.

Benedict went into the bathroom and came back with a damp washcloth. He put it on her forehead, then wrote down the letters on a note card and studied them. “Was on … something?” he suggested. “Somebody was on something? Or is it a name?”

“I’m not even sure I’m remembering it correctly. One thing’s for sure. We can’t go back and look.”

“God, no. In fact, we need to leave. Now.” He picked his clothes up off the floor, flung her clothes at her. “Get up. Get dressed. We need to drop out of sight. Forever.”

His urgency sent a jolt of fear through her. “Is that so easy?”

He pulled on his clothes. “You disappeared quite effectively. I discovered you by accident. I suspect the assassins discovered you by watching me. I led them to you. This time we’ll go together. It’s the only way. We’re intelligent. We’re tough. We can make our way in the world. Together.”

She liked the way he talked. She liked his confidence. She believed him when he said it was the only way. “All right.” For the second time that night, she pulled on her workout clothes.





CHAPTER FIFTY

Three A.M. and the cops were gone.

Good Knight Manor Bed and Breakfast was quiet.

Benedict and Merida tiptoed through the kitchen and toward the knight-filled dining room. They went through the ritual of unlocking the door. Benedict walked through Merida’s suite and came back to where she stood in the dining room. “All clear. We’re alone.”

“Thank you.” She handed him her computer, showed him the log-in and where she was in her program.

He studied it. He shook his head. “I need my computer. It’s got the security setups to get into the business accounts. But if I can view everything together, I can do this. Move the evidence you piled on me to Rose and Albert. The whole business is going to come crashing down around their ears.”

“Your reputation will remain unscathed?”

“I think I can salvage it, and with it my part of the fortune.” He grinned. “Baltimore Inner City Day Care and Preschool is going to have an impressive nest egg to depend on.”

She had to offer him one more chance. “You could remain and be Benedict Howard, the mogul who saved the family business.”

“Not and be with you. Don’t worry so, I know what I’m doing.” He frowned. “Come back to my room with me. I’ll pick up my computer and work here while you pack.”

“You go back, make the changes on the computers, and I’ll pack. When I’m ready, I’ll call you and if you’re done and if you’re packed, we can leave.”

He tried to tell her no.

“It makes sense. We’re in a hurry.” She felt the pressure building to leave Virtue Falls and their current lives behind.

“We are in a hurry.” He pulled her into his arms and looked down into her face. “Lock the doors after me.”

She nodded.

“Don’t let anyone in.”

She nodded.

“Pack light.”

She nodded.

“Am I mansplaining?”

She pulled away and signed and smiled. “Yes, but it’s very cute.”

He kissed her.

But he didn’t linger. The night was waning. He had her software to alter, and quickly. They’d made their plans to disappear and they needed to implement them now, before someone suspected or tried to kill Merida, or Benedict or both.

When he left, Merida locked the doors and went upstairs mentally prioritizing as she climbed.

First from the safe, her technology: the tablet, the computer, cables and gadgets. From her bathroom: toothbrush, birth control, tampons, sunscreen. From her bedroom: running shoes, comfort shoes and her one pair of stilettos.

Benedict liked those stilettos.

In the closet, she grabbed clothes for roughing it, clothes for layering, a dress, simple but easy to dress up or down. She flung it all on her bed, then off the top shelf she retrieved one rolling suitcase light enough for her to carry as needed. She didn’t know where they were going. She didn’t know how. She wanted to be prepared for everything.

She packed quickly, efficiently, discarding anything that gave her second thoughts. She was tucking her socks into her shoes when—a brief shriek from the attic room above her. A heavy thud on her ceiling.

Merida jumped. She stared up at the quivering antique light fixture.

No other sound …

Night pressed in on the windows, making the darkness blacker and deafening. The Cipres roomed up there. What had happened?

Downstairs, she heard someone rap on her door, a quick panicked patter of terror. She ran halfway down the servants’ stairs. Ran back and got her phone. Ran all the way down and into the dining room.

The rapping continued, constant, demanding, desperate.

She put her hand against the door. It vibrated continuously, like a trembling hand. She checked the security camera.

Elsa Cipre stood outside, lip split, blood trickling from one corner of her eye. She wore one of her odd black outfits, maybe her version of a nightgown, and glanced around continuously, watching for someone. Watching for … him.

Merida had always known there was something wrong with that man. Something suspicious in the way Dawkins watched his wife.

In the way he watched Merida.

She left the chain on, but unlocked and opened the door and peered through the crack.

Elsa whispered, “Please. Let me in. He’s going to kill me. This time he’s going to kill me.”

“Stay here. I’ll call for help.” She backed away, dialed Benedict. No service. No ring. Damn it, this was no time to have trouble connecting. Dawkins could get here at any moment, and Merida didn’t know what she would do. She didn’t like Elsa, but that didn’t mean she wanted her to die at the hands of Dawkins Cipre. She needed a weapon. A weapon …

Suits of armor lined the walls. Each knight held a weapon: battle-ax, spear, flail, sword … Sword was best—although it was too heavy for her, it had a point and sharp sides. A lot of ways to hurt someone. Merida tucked the phone under her ear. With both hands, she grasped the sword hilt and pulled.

She heard a click, a rattle and the sound of a chain dropping.

She whirled to face the door.

A blow to the right ear sent her sprawling.

The sword fell back into place. The phone flew out of her hands and tumbled across the floor.

Dawkins Cipre. He’d forced his way in.

Merida tried to get to her knees. She was kicked flat.

A bony body landed on her back. A bony hand gripped her hair and slammed the right side of her head to the floor.

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