Twist of Fate (34 page)

“No, you've got to understand, we had to do something. Everything had gone wrong. Nothing had worked. Vicky said we had to do something—”

Gideon didn't bother to let him finish. He used the edge of his hand on the back of Drake's neck, choking off the other man's words along with his consciousness.

Then Gideon started running down the beach, searching for a route back up the cliff.

 

C
RAWLING OFF THE ROAD
and into the tangled vegetation on the opposite side had been the hard part. Hannah had been certain that her reinjured knee would collapse under her. The pain was intense. Surely anything that painful had to be incapacitating. But fear was another great motivator, she discovered. It ranked right up there with revenge when it came to giving a person strength and determination. She was learning a lot about willpower these days.

The distant roar of the engine of the returning car had grown steadily louder through the rain as Hannah laboriously pulled herself off the road. She felt like an injured animal that had been carelessly hit on the highway and was now trying to drag itself off into the bushes to die.

No, damn it, she was not going to die. Her leg was on fire, but other than that she was relatively unscathed. She had a few bruises on her hands and face from her impact with the road, but the sturdy cotton twill of her fatigue pants and bush shirt had protected her from too much damage. When this was over she would have to write a letter of commendation to the folks who ran the mail-order house from which she'd ordered them. It wasn't often these days that you got your money's worth from a product.

The ludicrous thoughts probably meant that she was suffering from some kind of shock, Hannah decided. It wasn't rational to be thinking of writing thank-you letters to mail-order outfits at a time like this. On the other hand, it did serve to take her mind off her knee for a few seconds.

She was well into the tangle of tropical foliage when she heard the car come to a halt on the edge of the road. Hannah lay gasping for breath, clutching her knee, and tried to figure out what to do next. She had no idea whether whoever was in the car would come looking for her, but it was a pretty good bet they'd want to make sure they had killed her. With any luck they'd assume she'd gone over the cliff in the jeep.

Then she heard the voices.

“I'll go down and make sure.”

A man's voice. One Hannah recognized but didn't want to acknowledge. Then came the woman's voice and Hannah decided that there was no use in pretending she didn't know Victoria Armitage's loud, harsh tones.

“I don't think she's down there, Drake.”

“Got to be. Where else could she have gone?”

“We didn't actually see the jeep go over. She might have had time to get out.”

“No way. Her reflexes aren't all that good, especially with that leg of hers. You've seen her move lately. She still uses the cane.”

“I don't know, Drake. I have a feeling she's not down there.”

“I'll go look.”

“All right,” Victoria agreed. “I'll check around up here. You're right about one thing. Wherever she is, she can't have gotten far.”

“The first time she managed to get herself to a hospital.” Drake sounded thoroughly disgusted. “And the second time, Cage got in the way.”

“This time we'll make sure of her.”

“God, Vicky, I wish you'd get this business finished once and for all. It's getting damned spooky.”

“Don't lose your nerve now, Drake. There's no way she'll get out of this. I'll take the gun.”

Hannah closed her eyes in horror. A gun. Vicky was coming after her and she was armed. Frantically Hannah opened her eyes and glanced around. The rain offered some protection but it seemed to be lessening. Tropical storms didn't last long. She'd better take advantage of the downpour while she could. It would hide her movements for a while.

Gritting her teeth, Hannah levered herself to her feet. There was no point fooling herself that adrenaline and fear would completely overcome the pain and weakness in her left leg, but she made an attempt, regardless. There was no choice. Dr. Englehardt had done a good job on the knee. He'd said so, himself. If the job hadn't been good enough, she'd sue when she got back to Seattle.

Slowly, painfully, Hannah made her way deeper into the undergrowth. The terrain became rough quickly, and sizeable chunks of granite were as abundant as frangipani and ferns. Using both hands to help herself along, Hannah opted to use the boulders as protection. They looked as though they'd be better able to deflect a bullet than the delicate, flowering shrubs.

The rocky hillside provided a number of handholds. Unfortunately, it also provided a number of loose pebbles and debris. The rain was still heavy enough to conceal most of the noise Hannah was making but it wasn't going to go on much longer. She had to find a decent hiding place before the storm ended.

Some of the delicate tropical bushes weren't quite as innocent as they appeared, Hannah discovered as she put one palm firmly around a vine bristling with thorns. Stifling a groan of anguish, she released the vine and stared at her hand. Rain washed across her palm, carrying traces of something that might have been blood. Then again, it might simply have been mud. Hannah went back to the task of finding a hiding place.

The obvious one lay amid a jumble of craggy rocks. It was a cave, surrounded by thick vegetation. It loomed up out of nowhere, its dark mouth yawning invitingly in the rain. It offered shelter and shadows. With the age-old instinct of the wounded and the hunted, Hannah headed toward it.

She was about to collapse into the dark interior when something made her think more clearly. The cave was a little too obvious. If Vicky Armitage spotted it, she was likely to come to the same conclusion as Hannah, and Hannah would be a sitting duck of a guidance counselor trapped inside.

Biting back a groan of despair, Hannah paused to catch her breath and search her surroundings. Above the cave, an uneven mixture of thick vegetation and rocks stretched upward and backward. If she could get above the cave entrance she could keep climbing into the hills.

Hannah set herself to fighting her way around the mouth of the cave. If her leg hadn't been hurting so badly it wouldn't have been such a difficult task. The terrain wasn't so rough that it couldn't be handled easily by someone with two functioning legs. Vicky had too functioning legs, Hannah reminded herself. Vicky would be humming right along behind her on two legs toughened up by a great deal of running. She would also have a gun in her hand.

Damn it to hell. Vicky not only had a Ph.D., she had a gun. Life could be very unfair at times.

Hannah dislodged a few pebbles as she hauled herself around a boulder. The rain was definitely slackening now. If Vicky were close enough, she might have heard the small clatter. But there was no shout and no shot so Hannah kept climbing. There was nothing else to be done at the moment.

A huge fern blocked her path. Hannah wondered if she could go through it. She didn't think she had the energy to circle around it. The fern proved obliging enough. It collapsed beneath Hannah's weight and when she crawled over it, she found herself in the jumble of plants and rocks above the mouth of the cave. She lay trying to catch her breath and wondered how useful the struggle had been.

The question remained unanswered. A drift of departing rain swept across Hannah's prone body and, when it passed, Vicky Armitage materialized. Hannah blinked painfully as the other woman stepped cautiously out into the open near the cave. It was true. Vicky did, indeed, have a gun. Fretful moonlight revealed its dark bulk in her fist. Hannah had full confidence in the other woman's ability to use it. She lay utterly still on the damp, muddy earth and wondered how much luck any one guidance counselor could possibly have.

Vicky wasn't worrying about being taken by surprise. She was obviously being cautious simply because she didn't want to overlook any possible hiding places. She was probably quartering the terrain or walking it in concentric circles. Whatever technique she was using, Hannah was certain it would be brilliant and methodical.

The moon emerged more fully as the clouds scattered and departed. It occurred to Hannah that, if she got out of this, she owed two letters to the mail-order firm where she had purchased her clothing. Not only had the tough cotton protected her during the escape from the jeep but the khaki green shade of the shirt and pants was making her a part of the night-shrouded vegetation. As she thought about her clothing, Hannah also thought about her belt.

It was two inches wide, guaranteed to be made of sturdy British harness leather and finished with a hefty brass buckle. Just the thing for trekking into the tropics. It wouldn't be much use against a gun but there might be other uses for the heavy belt. Slowly, trying not to make any noise, Hannah reached under herself and undid the buckle. Watching Vicky all the time, she inched the belt free. She looped the end of it around her wrist just as Vicky turned and spotted the dark entrance of the cave.

As Hannah had anticipated, Vicky headed at once for the dark, yawning hole. But she stopped short outside.

“Hannah?”

There was an unnerving, unhealthy excitement in Vicky's voice. It sent a strange chill down Hannah's spine. The woman was enjoying this. Hannah didn't move.

“Hannah, you should have listened to me. You should have given me Elizabeth Nord's journals and books. You were a stupid little fool, and now it's going to cost you. Because I'm the one who's going to end up with those journals. I'm going to find the truth in them.”

Silence reigned for a moment. Hannah held her breath. Then Vicky took a step closer to the cave.

“Nord ruined my father with her lies. Do you hear me? He was a brilliant man and she ruined his career. He tried to help her in the beginning, tried to give her a hand up in the profession. She used him and then she turned on him. He told me so many times how it had happened. She
used
him! Do you have any idea of what she did to him? He died a weak, pitiful man. He became an alcoholic at the end. She killed him, Hannah! Just as surely as if she'd put a gun to his head. She didn't even give him a quick death. It took him years to die. Years of watching his reputation dwindle and disappear. Years of getting second-rate teaching posts. Years of having the best journals turn down his papers. Years of knowing he was right and Nord was wrong and having no way to prove it.”

Hannah risked a very careful breath as Vicky moved closer to the cave.

“Come on out, Hannah. I know you're in there. Just like you to run and hide. You're like your aunt, aren't you? You'd have used your connection with Nord to write the one book people would be sure to read about her. No one gave a damn about anything my father wrote about Elizabeth Nord. And you'd have made sure Nord's lies were handed down to another generation. But I'm not going to let that happen. My father knew she'd lied. He told me she had. But no one would listen to him. They'll listen to me, though, Hannah. By God, I'll make them listen. I've known from the time I was fifteen years old and watched my father start to drink himself to death that I'd make people acknowledge the truth. And I'll use Nord's own journals to tear apart her reputation. I'm not going to let a weak little nobody like you get in my way.”

Hannah watched Vicky move into the cave. This was the only opportunity she was likely to get. She pulled herself to the edge overlooking the cave entrance. It might help if she had some sort of distraction to offer Vicky when the other woman emerged from the cave. Suddenly the necklace seemed very warm on Hannah's throat.

Hannah yanked at the old chain. It snapped and the pendant came free in her hand.

“Damn you, Hannah, where are you?” Vicky came back to the cave entrance. Hannah could see the top of her head as she looked down at the other woman.

Hannah hurled the necklace into the shrubbery across from the cave. It tinkled lightly as it struck a rock. Vicky's hand came up in a classic firing stance and the gunshot split the night. Hannah thought she might be permanently deafened.

Then she was pushing herself over the side, falling heavily to land with a jolting thud on top of Vicky. The shock winded both women, but it was Vicky who took the brunt of it. She collapsed beneath Hannah, the gun falling from her hand.

Almost instantly Hannah realized that she wasn't strong enough to overpower the other woman, even with the advantage she'd had. Vicky Armitage had spent too many hours in the weight room of the athletic club and too many hours running. Her physical strength and endurance were formidable and they were both finely tuned.

But the rage that had first gripped Hannah as she lay in agony on the road washed back through her veins. She felt Vicky twist beneath her and knew she was trying for the gun. At the same time Vicky shoved violently with her elbow, catching Hannah painfully in the ribs. For a sharp second Hannah wondered if something had been broken. But there wasn't any time to find out.

“Damn you, you stupid little bitch!” Vicky twisted again, and this time she succeeded in dislodging Hannah.

Hannah gasped and fell to the side. She saw Vicky struggle to her knees and loom over her. The beautiful face was a mask of rage. Vicky swung at her again, a vicious punch that carried the full weight of her well-developed shoulders behind it.