“Bitch.”
He shot the gun into the room and the sound momentarily paralyzed her. He fired twice more and she began to shake all over. She held both hands over her mouth to keep from crying out. She was too frightened to move now-even if she could make it to the door, her legs wouldn’t support her to take her there.
It occurred to her for the first time that she wasn’t going to get out of the cellar alive.
Another shot, this one closer.
“I’ve got plenty more, Lorna. I can stand here and shoot at you all day.”
“Gonna be hard to do that with a bullet in your brain.” T.J.’s voice from the doorway was steady, but there was no mistaking the intent.
“Well, hey, Mr. PI. Nice of you to stop by.”
“Drop the gun, Mike. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”
Mike responded with a shot to the doorway.
“Sooner or later, you’re going to run out. I won’t,” T.J. told him calmly.
“You forget, PI,” Mike’s breath was ragged, “I’ve got something you want in here.”
“If you had her, you’d have killed her already. So unless you were talking to a corpse a few seconds ago, I’d say you don’t have her.”
“She’s in here, I’m in here. You’re out there.” Mike laughed. “She moves, she’s a dead woman. How do you figure you’re going to get her out?”
“I shoot you. She walks past your body on the way to the door.”
“You can’t shoot what you can’t see.”
A shot rang out and Mike shrieked. His gun hit the floor. Lorna screamed and backed into the wall, falling off her feet. T.J. came into the room and stepped over the moaning man and picked up the gun.
“Lorna?” T.J. said softly. “Are you all right?”
“I’m over here.” She struggled to get to her feet and he was there, reaching down to help her.
His arms closed around her and tightened. “Are you all right?” he repeated.
She nodded shakily.
“How could you see him? How did you know where to shoot?” she asked as he led her out of the dark room and into the light.
“Night goggles.” He slipped them off over his head with one hand. “A favorite of PIs everywhere.”
“I thought you told Mitch you got rid of all your toys.”
“Almost all.”
“Is he going to die?”
“No. But he won’t be writing any letters home for a while.” He handed her his cell phone. “Go outside and call Mitch. There’s no signal down here. I tried calling him when I realized you were in the wine cellar, but I couldn’t get a signal.”
She stumbled and he caught her.
“Maybe you’d better sit down for a minute.” He turned a barrel on its side and guided her to it, but she shook her head.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. It was just so… I was so…”
She couldn’t find the words.
“Hey, I’ve been shot at a time or two myself. It’s not fun. Maybe one of the scariest things that can happen, and if you’re not used to being around guns, and you’ve never been shot at before, it’s a pretty scary experience.”
“It was so loud.” She covered her ears, remembering. “I swear, I’m usually not very wimpy.”
“It is loud, and when you’re that close to it, yeah, it’s real tough on the ears.” He brushed the hair back from her face. “I don’t think you’re wimpy at all. I think you were damned smart to lure him in there. You gave yourself a fighting chance. If you hadn’t done that, you’d be dead right now.”
“If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I would be dead right now. I didn’t think I was going to get out of there alive.”
“You did just fine.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks, then leaned over and kissed her. “You did just fine.”
She nodded. “I’ll call Mitch. You keep an eye on Mike.”
Lorna made it to the steps and held on to the railing while she climbed up to the barn. She walked across the wooden floor and out through the door and resisted the urge to pinch herself. Five minutes ago, she’d been certain that her life was going to end. She’d never faced that kind of challenge, never known that kind of fear. Yet she’d still managed to outsmart Mike, long enough for help to arrive.
All in all, it could have been worse.
She was alive, the bad guy lay bleeding on the tasting room floor, and the cool guy had not only saved her, but he’d kissed her as well. She leaned back against the barn door and dialed Mitch’s number.
Yeah, she thought as she listened to the phone ring, all in all, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.
22
“Lorna, how are you feeling?” Regan rushed up the front steps and dropped her bag on the porch. “Mitch told me what happened. I tried calling your cell and the house phone, but you didn’t pick up.”
“I’m fine, thanks. It took a few hours for the ringing in my ears to stop, but all’s well now.” Lorna got up from the chair where she’d been rocking, passing the time quietly while she waited for T.J. and Mitch to come back with the beer and Chesapeake crabs they’d set out for almost an hour ago.
“God, I turn my back on you for five days and you damn near get yourself killed.”
“But I didn’t get killed. T.J. arrived, like the posse, to save the day.” She smiled and added, “My hero.”
“Not bad, as heroes go.” Regan took the rocker next to Lorna’s.
“Ummm. Not bad at all. Thanks for the referral. Who’d have thought, the day I called you, that it would lead to all this?”
“All what?” Regan narrowed her eyes. “Lead to what? Are you holding back on me? Is something going on between you and the PI?”
Before Lorna could answer, the Crossfire pulled into the drive and stopped on a dime. Mitch and T.J. got out, laden with several bags.
“I hope you’re both very hungry,” T.J. called, “because we have enough crabs here to feed an army.”
“Did you catch them yourselves?” Lorna stood at the top of the steps. “You’ve been gone for an hour. The Crab Shack is just two miles down the road.”
“Well, we stopped for the beer first. Then we decided to have the crabs cooked for us, instead of cooking them here. Then we realized we didn’t have enough beer, so we had to go back to the state store.” T.J. grinned at Lorna. “You see how this could take some time.”
“I do.” Lorna laughed. “Bring it all into the kitchen and we’ll get some plates.”
“Plates?” Regan appeared horrified. “You don’t use plates to eat Maryland crabs. You cover the table with newspaper, then paper towels, then you put the crabs right on the table.”
“Don’t you get newsprint on the crabs?” Lorna asked.