Reenie whipped it around and cracked me on the side of the head with the butt end. My brain exploded and I crashed to the floor. She pointed it at Sarah now and I looked up at them as I desperately tried to make my stunned body move, hearing the screaming inside my head.
But Reenie was slightly off balance, and one of Sarah’s long legs swung in a roundhouse kick, sending the gun into a nearby pile of hay.
I fought a wave of dizziness, struggling to all fours to the sounds of grunts and heavy breathing as the two fought.
They were unevenly matched. My taller, athletic daughter with slight, shorter Reenie, but with the desperation of a cornered animal, Reenie scrabbled for the weapon again in the hay. As she came out with it, I saw by the glint in her eyes that this time she’d take the shot.
I pulled the seam ripper from my pocket and lunged at Reenie, gashing her calf with a nasty slice. She screamed in pain, and with that split-second advantage, Sarah grabbed the gun, twisting it in Reenie’s hand to break her grip.
For good measure, Sarah whacked Reenie on the side of the head, too, the same way she’d hit me. She fell to the ground, unconscious, blood already oozing through her baby fine hair.
A car pulled up outside, and Serrano and two other police officers came rushing in.
“Daisy! Are you guys all right?”
“We’re fine. Nice of you to show up,” I said, heaving for breath.
He grimaced. “Finally figured this one out when I saw that cow lift at the fair. Told you it was a crime of passion.”
One of the officers handcuffed Reenie, and the other radioed for an ambulance.
“Oh, Sarah.” I scrambled to my feet, held out my arms, and my daughter fell into them.
“Guess all that fight-scene training on film sets paid off, huh?” she whispered.
“You were amazing,” I said. She squeezed me tight, and I felt the lithe strength of her.
Serrano coughed. “So this just leaves one question. Where are those damn pens? We’ve already searched this fricking place. Maybe we need to go over it again, all the nooks and crannies. There’s acres of farmland as well.” He ran a hand wearily over his cropped hair.
“Hold on, I have an idea.” I let go of Sarah and hurried over to the henhouse, remembering how well Reenie had cared for the chickens. Better than her own children.
I felt under the straw, and smiled when I felt the shapes beneath my fingers. With a flourish, I pulled out a clutch of valuable fountain pens.
Serrano grinned at me. “I’m no country boy, but them’s some funny-looking eggs, ma’am.”
I caught my breath as I held up the Magical Black Widow pen, the beautiful silver web gleaming in the sun.
After Reenie was driven off in the ambulance, and the police had taken our statements, Sarah and I walked over to the car and my bicycle.
“You know what, Mom, you’re so brave. I never realized it before. You fought for Angus when no one else believed he was innocent, and now you risked your life fighting for me. You did good.”
“Thanks.”
“Um, Mom? There is one more thing . . .”
“Yes?”
“Would you be willing to look after Jasper while I’m on location? I know he’d be happier here at home with you than with a sitter. What do you think?”
I grinned at my daughter. “I think that sometimes you come up with a really great notion,” I said as I got on my flea market bicycle. “Race you home.”