Give Em Pumpkin To Talk About (Pumpkin Patch Mysteries Book 1) (23 page)

“George would’ve told you everything if he’d lived. He was Barton Clapp’s great-grandson—Big Mike killed him too. Our ancestors were supposed to share the property so they could split the gold they’d buried here.”

“That was a long time ago. But I’m willing to honor that partnership.” She had her cell phone in her pocket and was trying to manipulate it so she could call 911. It wasn’t easy to do inconspicuously.

“Too late to make new deals, Sarah.” He pushed the gun into her ribs. “Start walking.”

She walked toward the house, thinking that this would be an awesome time for Jack to do one of his popping up tricks. She might still get shot since the gun was slammed into her side, but she’d have a better chance of survival than she had otherwise.

“It won’t do any good to kill me,” she argued. “The deed will just go to my mother and brother. They’ll come to see what happened and figure out everything I did.”

“I thought about that when I killed George. I meant to kill you, too, but Jack was out here playing the hero as usual. I was glad he did after I’d thought about it. Don’t worry. I have a better answer to your death now.”

He kept pushing her toward the house. Sarah kept talking, hoping Jack would hear them. Of course this would be the time he wasn’t out looking for treasure hunters. He was probably too busy hunting in the river for the gold himself.

“Kathy and Ben know you took me home,” she argued. “I think they’ll figure it out if I’m dead tomorrow morning. I don’t know what your plan is, but it won’t work.”

“Shut up and get in the house.” He pushed her up the front steps and opened the door. “Don’t worry. You have company.”

“Jack?” she asked with a catch in her voice. That was why he wasn’t here. Ron had already taken care of him.

He laughed as he switched on the living room light. “Not this time. But he’s gonna be sorry he missed the party. Even Sheriff Morgan is going to believe that he killed you.”

“Mace?” Sarah saw the real estate agent and went quickly to his side. He was unconscious on the floor. He’d obviously made it to the hospital to have his foot treated. There was a bandage on it that was tinged with some blood. “Why did you bring him here?”

“Because he’s my solution,” Ron said. “First he witnesses you signing the deed over to me, its rightful owner. He’s a notary, so he can make that transaction official. The sheriff will think Jack was so enraged when he saw you give me the property that he killed you and poor Nash. I was lucky to have survived his rampage with only a few minor wounds.”

“I guess you’ve thought of everything.” She moved away from Mace. If Ron wanted him conscious, he could do it himself. “But you know Jack is your wild card, right?”

“I’ll take care of Jack. Everyone will know I had to defend myself with lethal force to stop him.”

“Too bad you have no idea where he is or when he’ll show up,” she taunted him. “That must make you kind of nervous.”

He glanced uneasily across his shoulder at the living room window and moved to the right of it. “He’ll show up. I’ll be ready for him. Get Nash on his feet. Let’s get this going.”

Sarah tried to think of something else to say. She moved slowly toward the unconscious realtor, wondering what she could do to keep this from happening in case Jack didn’t show up. There had to be something she could use as a weapon.

Despite not wanting to help him, she had to stall for time. She leaned over Mace and called his name. He didn’t stir. “I think I need some water.”

“Fine. We’ll both go in the kitchen. Don’t get any stupid ideas. It doesn’t matter to me what order everyone dies in. You could be first.”

“I guess you hadn’t figured this out yet when you killed Leland and tried to make it look like Jack did it.” She walked in front of him toward the kitchen and switched on the light.

“You’re right. I thought you’d go away and I could get Jack to take the blame for the two deaths. It would make sense why he’d done it. And what do you mean, trying to make it look like it? Even the sheriff half believes Jack killed those two because he doesn’t want you to sell the land.”

It was unnerving knowing he’d been thinking this through since she’d met him. It was worse with him standing right behind her preparing to execute his plan. She wished Jack would sneak up on him. But he could be killed, too, if he showed his face. Maybe there was some way she could warn him.

Before she could think of that way, the lights in the house went off. The water had started to trickle out of the faucet, but with the power off, the pump couldn’t come on either. The cloth she was holding was barely damp.

“Jack!” Ron pushed the gun into her back. “Mess with me, and she loses a kidney.”

There was no response.

“Get back in the living room and wake Nash.” He shoved her in that direction.

But when they got in the other room, the realtor was gone. Ron made her sit in one of the chairs while he used a flashlight to search behind the furniture in case his prisoner had crawled away.

Sarah could hear him getting angrier from his heavy breathing and frequent curses. She realized, as he probably did too, that Jack had taken Mace out of the house while they were in the kitchen.

“This doesn’t matter,” Ron yelled in frustration. “I still have the girl. I can kill her and then look for you and Nash. Remember how I killed George? I don’t have the Ruger anymore, but it won’t take a rifle to kill Sarah. It’ll be like killing Leland and leading you into the trap in the barn. I could’ve killed you then, Jack. I’ll do it tonight and make up for that mistake.”

He was whirling around the living room, glaring at the ceiling as though Jack was up there watching him. Sarah realized that she wouldn’t get a better opportunity to escape before he made good on his threats.

She slithered off the chair to the floor and crawled around the back of the sofa. Ron was still yelling crazy threats at Jack. She kept crawling until her knees told her that she was in the kitchen. It would only take him a minute to realize she was gone once he stopped ranting. She had to make sure she was in a safe place by then.

Which way would he think she’d go? She could reach the back door and run outside in the darkness of the yard. It would be hard to find her there. But wouldn’t he expect her to do that?

She could crawl up the stairs and hide in one of the bedrooms. That seemed like the least expected action, but it might be easier for him to find her.

The choice was made for her when Ron stopped yelling and realized she wasn’t in the living room. He swore and ran for the back door, throwing it wide open as he started screaming her name while he hunted for her.

Sarah ran up the stairs, heart pounding. She gulped for breath as she hid in her grandparents’ bedroom.

Ron would never be able to search everywhere outside, especially not in the dark. On the other hand, there weren’t enough places in the bedroom to hide if he decided to come looking for her here.

She listened but didn’t hear anything. Finally realizing she could call for help even if it took a while to get there, she reached for her cell phone.

It was gone. She’d dropped it somewhere, maybe in the house. She’d had it, trying to call without looking as she’d walked inside. It had to be in the living room or coming up the stairs.

She didn’t hear any footsteps or heavy breathing—Ron must still be outside. She crept back downstairs, carefully running her hand along the wood, searching for her phone.

No one was
ever
going to convince her that she didn’t need a gun for protection. In fact, she planned to buy another one if she survived this.

Sarah was on her knees in the area between the kitchen and the living room when she heard footsteps coming from the back porch. She pushed herself flat against the wall.

“Are you in here?” Ron whispered. “Jack? Where are you? Did you take Sarah too? You can’t play these little games with me the way you do with the kids. I’ve got specialized training that you’ve never dreamed about.”

He brushed by the table, and she went quickly to the other side. But she didn’t move fast enough. He reached out and grabbed her hair as she inched by.

She yelled as his rough hold brought tears to her eyes. Her hand banged against the stove. The heavy, cast iron frying pan was still there. He was close to her. With a quick movement, she grabbed the frying pan and hit him as hard as she could.

He didn’t release her, but he drew in a short, painful breath and swore at her. She knew she’d hurt him and tried again.

This time, he let her go, moaning and dropping to the floor. She stood over him with the frying pan in both hands ready to hit him again.

“I think you got him,” Jack said near her ear. “You win. Let me get the lights.”

Sarah wanted to run after him. She wanted to be anywhere except where the man who wanted to kill her was. Her legs wouldn’t move. Her head felt like she’d been the one hit with a frying pan. Her knees gave out, and she sank to the wood floor.

The lights came on. Ron was alive but out cold near her feet with a deep, red gash on his head.

“Are you okay?” Jack found her staring at the other man. She didn’t reply, even when he took the frying pan away from her and helped her to her feet. “Sarah?”

With a small cry, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “You’re fine. And you took care of your boyfriend.”

Sarah moved away from him. “Where were you? I don’t get one moment’s peace around here with you popping up everywhere. Where were you tonight?”

He started to speak.

“And don’t you dare tell me you were out looking for that stupid gold in the river. I’ll hit you with the frying pan too.”

“I was having a drink with Gray and Mary. There was a lot to tell them about the gold and what the museum director said. I started home and saw the light on in the house. Ron was waving the gun around in front of the window. The rest is history. I can guess what his plan was.”

“Oh.” She sat at the table. “I need a drink.” She watched as Jack tied Ron’s hands and feet. “Where’s Mace?”

“I would’ve been back for you sooner, but he woke up as I was moving him and started crying and clinging like a monkey. I couldn’t get him to stop. I had to knock him out again and leave him in the barn. I guess I was too impatient with him. You were already taking care of the situation. ”

Sarah heard the distant sound of sirens coming toward them. Jack poured her a drink from a jug made of brown pottery. “Tommy made this. It should do the trick.”

The rest of the night was a blur after she’d imbibed whatever was in the jug. Sheriff Morgan came and went. She was sure she saw other deputies and paramedics, but she didn’t regain full consciousness until the next morning.

“Oh God.” She groaned and put her hands to her head. “How much of that stuff did I drink?” Her whole body hurt and her head felt as though it was going to fall off.

“More than I’ve ever had.” Jack was sitting in a chair by the foot of her mother’s bed. “You’ve got quite a tolerance.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?” She tried to get up, but it hurt too much to move.

“I was afraid you might hit me with the frying pan.”

She opened one eye to glare at him. He sounded much too happy. “What’s so funny?” Her voice was raspy and thick.

“You—in that bed. Your feet hang off the end. I moved your things into your grandparents’ room. At least that way the bed is big enough for you.”

“Are we still pretending that I’m going to stay?”

“I’ve never pretended you were going to stay. The first time I saw you get out of the car, I
knew
you were staying.”

Sarah started to argue with him, but that was it. The abuse she’d heaped on her stomach turned on her, and she barely made it to the bathroom.

“That’s another plus to your grandparents’ room,” he said as she sped by. “The bathroom is closer.”

Epilogue

Sarah sat on one of the large rocks in the river beside the stone pillar that pointed out the boundaries between counties. The sun was warm on her head even though the water was freezing where her feet rested.

It had been an eventful few weeks since Ron had confessed to killing George Burris and Leland Drake. Her mother had called it a nightmare and offered to come get her. But the worst was yet to happen, at least in her mother’s point of view.

Explaining to her parents and her brother that she wasn’t going to sell the farm and that she was staying in Misty River was something she wished she could forget.

There had been crying and recriminations. Her father had threatened to cut her out of his will. Her brother had said he’d take her to court for his portion of the land. He’d actually come to the farm but had left quickly when he’d seen the new bee colony that Kathy was helping her start.

Everyone would get over it. She’d been worried about work, but her boss had come through again. Clare still wanted her to work for her, with the occasional trip to Richmond or when she traveled. Sarah would be able to do most of what was needed from her laptop right there in Misty River.

Everyone else seemed unsurprised that she’d decided to stay. Kathy and the Popes had welcome home parties for her. Her life was taking on a new dimension as she and her property manager, Jack Collins, came up with ideas that could make the farm profitable again.

Peggy Lee’s husband, Steve Newsome, had called from his office in Charlotte to let her know that he might have found a lead about where her grandparents had disappeared.

“I don’t have anything official about this yet, but I thought you’d want to know what I’d found.”

“Anything.” She put the phone on speaker so Jack could hear too.

“It’s possible—and I use that word carefully—that your grandparents were relocated for their safety.”

“What?” she asked. “You mean like witness protection?”

“Yes. But it was a long time ago, and information on the program is sketchy. I can’t swear you’ll ever know for sure. I’m going to send you what I can that made me begin searching in that direction. Keep it to yourself. Don’t even share with your local law enforcement. If they were relocated, and are still safe, their lives could depend on it.”