Letters in the Attic(63)

“Help me! Susan, help me!”

Forced to drop the bat, Prescott was cursing at her, trying to throw her to the floor, but still she clung to him.

“Susan! You’ve got to help me!”

Susan sat frozen there, her eyes wide, her lips quivering. Then with a low cry, she leaped to her feet and grabbed the bat.

“Let her go, Archer.” Her voice was low and fierce, her eyes steely. Here at last was the woman who had somehow found the courage to break free from Prescott before. “Let her go, or God forgive me, I’ll use this.”

Prescott studied her for an eternity of a moment, and Annie loosened her grip. She began to back away from him, but without warning, he seized her arm, holding her in front of him, between him and Susan.

“Looks like we have a bit of a standoff now. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get that phone over there and call the police. And if you move, I’ll use the bat. I promise I will,” Susan said.

Annie gasped as Prescott’s hand snaked around her throat.

“And then what, darling Susan?” His voice was mocking, taunting. “Are you going to hit her to try to get to me? Put the bat down.”

There was a flicker of uncertainty in Susan’s eyes. “No. You let her go.”

“I’m not going to tell you again, Susan. Don’t make me do something you won’t like.” Prescott’s strong fingers tightened on Annie’s throat, and she squirmed against him.

“The phone,” she gasped. “Get it.”

“Don’t do it, Susan.” Prescott stepped forward, dragging Annie with him. “Give me the bat before I get angry. You used to always make me angry, even when I wanted to be nice to you. Don’t make that mistake again.”

Susan made a little whimpering noise, and the bat she held trembled.

“Susan, don’t—” The pressure on Annie’s throat increased, cutting her off. She struggled to pull Prescott’s hand away, to free herself, but she wasn’t strong enough.

“Now, Susan. Give it to me. Don’t make me—” Abruptly, he shoved Annie toward Susan, throwing them both onto the couch. An instant later, he had snatched up the baseball bat and was standing over them with it.

“We’re done now, and I have a plane to catch. Say good-bye.”





17

Susan covered her face and ducked her head against Annie’s shoulder. Annie’s eyes were fixed on the bat as Prescott swung it over his shoulder, the muscles in his arms flexing, ready to bring it down on them.

“Dear God,” she breathed. “Please—”

“Mrs. Maxwell? Mrs. Maxwell? Are you all right? This is the police! Open the door!” Strong blows on the front door echoed through the house. “Open up!”

“We’re in here!” Annie screamed. “We’re in here!”

With an animal roar, Prescott flung the bat toward the front door and then bolted down the hallway.

Annie leaped up from the couch, ran to the door, and threw it open.

“He ran out the back! Hurry!”

Chief Edwards gestured to the fresh-faced young officer he’d brought with him. “Don’t let him make it into the woods, Peters. I’ll go around the other way.”

With a glance at Annie, Peters clattered through the house and out the back door after Prescott.

Chief Edwards took Annie’s arm. “Are you ladies all right?”

Annie could only shake her head breathlessly, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Susan was definitely crying.

“My husband’s hurt. Get an ambulance. Please.”

She and Annie hurried into the kitchen. Chief Edwards followed them, using his cell phone to request medical help and backup from the county police. Then he stormed out the back door after Prescott.

Tom was sprawled face-down on the kitchen floor, a trickle of drying blood coming from above his right eye. Annie noticed the corresponding smear on the corner of the tiled countertop, and she quickly felt for a pulse in Tom’s neck. “He must’ve hit his head on the way down, but he’s alive.”

Susan sank to her knees beside him.

“Better not move him. Let the paramedics check him out first.” Annie glanced out the window toward the woods, wondering why Chief Edwards’ shouted commands had suddenly ceased. Then she turned back to Susan. “You don’t want to make any head or neck injury worse.”

Susan nodded. She touched her fingers to her husband’s hair, murmuring his name as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Annie knelt beside her, glad to see that Tom was breathing regularly despite his unconsciousness. There was a trail of blood from the back of his head down to a corresponding stain on his shirt collar.