Fire When Ready (Manor House Mystery) (21 page)

"I wouldn't be surprised." He raised his head higher.

"Be careful!" She pulled him down again. "He's probably still out there. He'll shoot again."

"Just stay down."

To her dismay he edged away from her and crawled over to the window. She watched him straighten up, his back pressed against the wall. "I'll say one thing. The shooter was a lousy marksman. The bullet hit way above your head."

"Please get away from that window!" Elizabeth pleaded. "He might not miss next time." She sat up and examined her knees. "Drat. I have ladders in both stockings."

"And that's why they don't let women in the trenches," Earl said, a trifle too smugly for Elizabeth's liking.

Offended, she glared at him. "What does that mean?"

"I'll tell you later. Right now I have to get you out of here without getting your head shot off."

She scrambled to her feet. "That's not in the least amusing."

"It wasn't meant to be."

She uttered a little shriek as he grabbed her arm and pulled her up against him. "I wouldn't advise you to stand in front of the window like that. You make a perfect target."

She wasn't sure what was the most unnerving—the thought of a gunman trying to kill them or being clamped against Earl's chest. Fortunately for her peace of mind, he pushed her away from him. "Stay there and don't move until I say so."

Right at that moment she doubted that she could move if she tried. She watched Earl pick up a piece of wood and wave it in front of the window. Tensed for another bullet to hit the glass, it was almost anticlimactic when he let the board drop to the floor.

"Well, at least he's stopped shooting at the window. Too bad they took all the weapons out of this place after the
fire. I sure could use a gun right now." He looked at her. "Are you ready to make a run for it?"

Her stomach muscles clenched in fear, but she nodded at him. "Ready."

"That's my girl." He took hold of her arm. "Just do exactly as I say, and if I yell, you drop like a stone. Immediately. Got that?"

She knew now why he was considered such a good leader. The order had been given firmly, but with confidence and reassurance in his voice. She felt safe with him, sure that he would get her through anything unscathed. "I'm ready," she said steadily.

"Good, then let's go. Keep your head down as we go past the windows. We'll go out the locked door at this end. It's closer to the Jeep."

"What if we can't unlock it?"

"I'll break it open. Under the circumstances, I think the owner would understand."

It occurred to her then that she didn't know who owned the building. Douglas McNally had merely been the manager. He'd never told her who his employer might be. She assumed the owner would be down to look at the building before too long, since he planned to rebuild.

They reached the door without incident. Earl paused in front of it and looked down at her. "Elizabeth, the gunman could be waiting outside for us. I'm gonna to do my best to get us both out of here, but if something happens to me, you make it to the Jeep on your own. You don't wait for me, got it?"

"But—"

Gently he laid a finger on her mouth. "No buts. You promise me. You remember how to get it started?"

Miserably she nodded. "I think so."

"Then you take that Jeep and you go straight to the pub. It's not that far. You can call the police station from there."

"I don't want to go without you."

"With any luck you won't have to. Now you promise me. Please."

She struggled with her reluctance a moment longer, but his stern expression warned her he would take no less. "I promise," she said weakly. "But under protest."

"Noted." He stroked her face before pulling his hand away. "Stay real close to me, okay?"

"All right." She watched him try the lock, then heave his shoulder against the door.

It didn't budge, and he looked around for something to force it. "Well, look at this," he said softly.

She peered around his shoulder to see what he was looking at. On the wall was a row of pegs, and hanging from the pegs were several keys.

"What's the betting this is where McNally kept the keys to the office," Earl said, reaching up to take one down. "That's how our intruder got a hold of it." He fitted the key into the lock on the door, but it wouldn't turn.

Elizabeth grabbed the rest of the keys off the pegs and handed to them. "One of them must fit."

The third one he tried turned smoothly in the lock and he let out a sigh of satisfaction. "Now, let's see if our gunman's out there. Stay here, Elizabeth. Don't move until I tell you. When I give the word, run like hell for the Jeep."

She nodded, too scared now to speak.

Earl inched the door open, and she held her breath as he poked his head outside. Any second she expected to hear a shot. Her heart was pounding so hard it shook her body.

He pulled back inside again and looked down at her. "I'm going to step outside. Get ready to run."

Her feet felt as if they were fastened to the floor. She prayed she'd be able to move when he gave the word. He started forward and she grabbed his sleeve.

"Wait! Earl . . . if anything happens . . . I . . ." She couldn't say it after all. Fear had dried up the words.

"Me too." he said softly.

Weak with the knowledge that he'd read her mind, she watched him step into the graying dusk. Every nerve in her body screamed with tension. Blood pounded through her veins, throbbing in her head, her ears, behind her eyes.

He was outside now—vulnerable, facing a deadly danger.

She'd worried about him before, every moment she knew he could be on a mission. But then it had been a danger she couldn't see, a faceless enemy, a vague ache of wondering where he was and when he'd return.

This was different. This was immediate and right in front of her. He was risking his life to save hers. She opened her mouth to call him back, but before she could utter a sound he snapped an order at her.

"Run! Go! Go!
Go!
"

She plunged through the door and he grabbed her hand. Together they leapt down the steps and raced across the yard to the gate. Any minute she expected to hear the deadly sound of a gunshot and wondered, ridiculously, how much it would hurt to have a bullet thud into her defenseless back.

They were at the gate now, and her lungs heaved painfully for air. Earl thrust her through, then practically threw her into the Jeep. "Get down!"

She scrunched down as much as she could as Earl leapt over the side and into his seat. The engine fired on the first try, and then they were off, careening around in a wild circle before heading back down the road to safety.

It wasn't until they were racing down the driveway of
the Manor House that she felt able to draw a deep breath again. As Earl helped her out of the Jeep, she was shaking so hard she wasn't sure her knees would hold her up.

"Brandy," he said, as they mounted the steps to the door. "And then we call the police."

Too weak to argue, she leaned against him as they waited for Martin to open the door. "I can't believe someone was actually trying to kill us."

"I'm not so sure about that."

She looked up at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I think he was just trying to frighten us off. He missed you by a mile in the window, and he could have easily waited around until we left the building to take a better shot at us."

"So it was a warning?"

"A pretty effective one at that. From now on you let the police do the investigating. I don't want you taking any more risks."

She pursed her lips. He was awfully fond of giving orders. She was about to remind him that she wasn't one of his men to be bossed around, but just then the sound of bolts being slid back heralded Martin's tardy arrival at the door.
Later
, she promised herself. When she felt more calm. Major Monroe needed to learn that she was used to doing things her own way, and didn't take kindly to someone trying to dictate her life. Even if she was madly in love with him.

The brandy went a long way to soothe Elizabeth's rattled nerves, but there was no time to confront Earl about his well-intended but unwelcome supervision. He was in a great hurry to inform the police about the shooting, and he rang them from her office, much to Polly's avid excitement.

"They want me to go down and fill out a report," he said,
when he replaced the receiver in its cradle. "I'm due back at the base shortly, so I'll run down there now."

"Do you want me to come, too?" Elizabeth asked, hoping he'd decline. There was much to do in the office, and all this running around had put her behind. She'd promised Polly she could go home early, and she could tell her assistant was in a hurry to leave.

"There's no need," Earl said, heading for the door. "If I go on my own I can go straight to the base from the police station. I've got some stuff to catch up on this evening."

"Very well, then." Feeling guilty for causing him to work late, she followed him to the door. "Can you see yourself out?"

"Sure." He smiled at her. "You did great out there. I'm proud of you."

"I was scared to death," she admitted.

"I know. But you didn't lose your head. That took guts."

Warmed by the praise, she said quietly, "Thank you. But if it hadn't been for you, I think I'd still be in there, cowering like a frightened mouse."

Aware of Polly hanging onto every word, she was relieved when he turned to leave with a lift of his hand. "So long. I'll be back later."

She closed the door behind him and leaned on it for a moment. Now that it was all over, she was reliving the horror of those frantic moments. It all seemed so unreal, as if it had happened to someone else. It was hard to believe that she'd been shot at as she'd stood in that window.

She frowned, trying to remember that moment more clearly. She'd been thinking about something important at the time. Something significant that had now annoyingly slipped her memory again.

"Are you all right, m'm? You must have had a terrible shock."

Polly's voice jerked her out of her thoughts. "Yes, just a little shaken, that's all." She managed a light laugh as she turned to face her assistant. "Why don't you run along now, Polly. I believe you said you were doing something important tonight."

"Yes, m'm, I am. I'm meeting Ray tonight."

"Oh, how nice!" Elizabeth gave her a warm smile. "I'm so glad you're getting along so well with that young man."

"Yes, well, as a matter of fact, m'm, I was going to tell you—"

The telephone rang at that moment, cutting off whatever she was going to say. Elizabeth reached for it, and said, "I'll take this. You have a nice evening, Polly. Don't stay out too late. I don't want to see you falling asleep over your desk tomorrow."

"Yes, m'm. I mean no, m'm. I mean . . . thank you . . . m'm."

Polly rushed from the room and Elizabeth frowned. Her assistant seemed a little agitated. Probably upset about the news of the shooting. As well she might be. Speaking cautiously into the handset, she said, "The Manor House. Lady Elizabeth speaking."

The familiar female voice that answered her sounded surprised. "Good afternoon, Lady Elizabeth! This is Nellie Smith. I was expecting Polly to answer."

"Polly had to leave, Nellie," Elizabeth told her. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Well, actually, it was Polly I wanted to speak to. I saw her poster in the pub, and I was wondering if she had any names of lonely soldiers yet so I can write to them."

"Ah, yes, Polly did mention something about that. I think
she's waiting to hear from her sister. I believe she's meeting her young man tonight, but she'll be here tomorrow. Perhaps you can ask her then."

"Oh, right. She's going out with that Ray Muggins, isn't she."

Something in Nellie's tone sharpened Elizabeth's interest. "You are acquainted with the young man?"

"I've met him, yeah."

"You don't like him?"

Nellie hesitated, then said carefully, "Well, I don't know him that well, m'm, but he seems a bit shifty to me. Can't look you straight in the eye. My dad used to say if they can't look you in the eye when they're talking to you they got something to hide."

Elizabeth's fingers tightened on the handset. "Well, I'm sure Polly will use her common sense when it comes to her relationship. Meanwhile, I'll tell her you rang, and that you'll be in touch with her later."

She replaced the handset and leaned back in her chair. Thinking back to her conversation with Ray Muggins, she remembered the way he'd looked everywhere but directly at her. Why hadn't she noticed that at the time?

She sat up straight in her chair. Now she remembered what she'd been thinking about when the bullet had come through the window. Now it was all falling into place. She sat there for a long time until she was sure she had it straight in her mind.

She thought back to her first conversation with Ray Muggins, on the stairs. He'd been so upset about Douglas McNally's death. He'd told her how he'd left the Tudor Arms and arrived at the factory in time to see the roof cave in. Sparks shooting up like rockets, he'd told her. But Wally had also seen the roof collapse.
Before
he'd bumped into Fred
Shepperton on his way back from the pub. Which meant that Ray couldn't have followed the farmer back to the factory. He was already there.

It was small thing. But why would Ray Muggins lie? There could only be one reason.

If he had been the one shooting at her earlier, he probably had the rifle hidden in his room. She had to search his room. She had to make sure before she raised the alarm.

Polly. She was going out with him tonight. For a moment Elizabeth considered warning the child. But to do that would raise Ray's suspicions. He'd realize someone suspected him and he'd disappear before she could convince George to arrest him.

She glanced up the clock. Almost half-past four. Polly wasn't likely to meet Ray until seven or so. She had a few hours to get through before she could leave for the pub.

She stared at the telephone, wondering if she could ask Earl to go with her. No, she'd taken up enough of his time. Already he was having to catch up on work he'd neglected in order to take her to the factory.