Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Irish Mystery part 9 by Terri Reed
“Thought you could out smart me, did you?” Brad moved into the tower room, the gun in his hand aimed straight at Patrick’s chest. “I know every buttress and corbel of this castle.” He let out a distinctly eerie chuckle. “I’m the ghost that chases away the tourist.” His gaze shifted to Anne.“Well, me and her, that is. She does a good job of screaming.”
Caryn sent up a silent plea for help and clutched at Patrick sleeve. “He’s crazy.”
Patrick shifted, acting as a shield by putting himself between Brad and the women. Caryn’s heart melted and love filled her to brimming proportions. Tears filled her eyes.
She should have known Patrick wouldn’t have voluntarily broken her heart all those years ago. All the wasted years apart could never be regained. And even if by some miracle they survived this ordeal, a future together wasn’t possible.
They had separate lives now, worlds apart.
“You’ll never get away with this,” Patrick declared. “Too many people know we’re here.”
Derision twisted Brad’s features, lighting his dark eyes with malice. “Needn’t worry. I’ll take care of anyone who comes a calln’.” He gestured with the gun. “Come here, girlee. Bring Brad the trinket and I’ll let you go.”
Anne whimpered and shrunk back, hiding behind Caryn’s back. Caryn took the brooch from Anne’s trembling hands and held the imitation jeweled piece out. “Take it, it’s yours.”
Caryn could feel Patrick’s questioning gaze but she couldn’t explain now.
Brad’s narrowed gaze jumped between Caryn and Patrick. Keeping the gun trained on Patrick, he sidled closer. “Don’t be hero, Paddy. Let me take the brooch and you all can go free.”
Caryn didn’t trust Brad to keep his word. He’d either kill them or leave them to rot in this tower, just as he had poor Anne McCreedy. Caryn touched Patrick’s hand, drawing his attention. For a moment, she held his gaze, hoping he would follow her lead.
When Brad was within arm’s reach of the brooch, Caryn spun around and chucked the fake jeweled pin out the turret window.
“No!” Brad lurched forward but it was too late. The brooch was now at the bottom of the mossy swamp at the base of the castle.
Swinging the gun in an arc, Brad aimed the weapon at Caryn’s heart. He snarled, baring yellowed and stained teeth. “You’re dead!”
Caryn braced herself. But Patrick vaulted across the short space to launch himself at Brad. The two men grappled for control of the gun.
A shot echoed off the stone walls.