«Good point. But I know how she knows how to get out, so file that—I knew first.»
«My compliments,» Alex said, indicating with a slight bow that she should precede him down the stairs to the kitchens.
Maggie felt the breeze before she saw the door open to the outside, and she was off again, hot on the heels of a woman who really, really got on her nerves… and it had nothing to do with Nikki's great looks or her even greater body. Really, it didn't. At least not much.
«We'll need Wellington boots and raincoats,» Alex said, grabbing her arm as she was halfway out the door into the downpour and the growing gray light of dawn.
«We don't have time for those.»
«We do if we have to go more than ten feet to find her, and I'm sure we do. We've been out there before, remember? At least the Wellingtons, Maggie. You'll fall without them.»
«Sure, okay, you're right,» she said, smiling at him. Then she waited until he'd sat himself down on the old wooden bench before she bolted. «She's mine , Alex!»
The cold rain hit Maggie with only a little less than the impact she'd expect from a bucket of ice water being thrown at her, and she blinked, sputtered… and pressed on, already knowing the location of the path Alex had investigated earlier.
She felt her feet slipping out from under her as she staggered along, rethinking her refusal of those time-consuming rubber boots to cover her leather-soled shoes. But she kept the flashlight beam headed straight ahead, not down, and kept moving along the narrow path that just barely rose above water, water, and more water.
«Maggie! Maggie, come back here!» Alex yelled—gosh, he'd actually yelled .
«I can't. She's got a head start,» Maggie yelled back at him.
And then she saw a figure, darker than the dawn around it. Nikki Campion. Nikki Campion, who'd taken the time to pull on rubber boots and one of those ugly yellow coats.
The idiot woman also had two suitcases, one in each hand. Was she nuts? Who makes a getaway with Gucci?
«Halt!» Maggie cried out. «Halt or I shoot!»
Which really worked only in truly bad cop and war movies.
Nikki let go of the suitcases and broke into a trot, the miner's light strapped to her headband lighting her way.
«Damn,» Maggie swore, rubbing her face with her free hand, trying to wipe off the rain that had already saturated her hair and was now running down into her eyes.
How was she going to keep up with the woman? Nikki ran flights of stairs for fun , for crying out loud. The last time Maggie could remember running was weeks and weeks ago, when she'd gone after that creep and tackled him, nearly getting herself killed in the process.
You'd think a woman would learn.
Then again, every once in a while, a woman catches a break. Even Margaret Kelly.
With a startled screech, Nikki Campion lost her footing on the slippery cobbles, or bricks, or whatever the old stones were, and, her arms waving wildly, over she went, into the pond.
Where the Boffo Transmissions girl, even with her built-in flotation devices, sank like a rock.
«I'll get her,» Alex shouted, coming toward Maggie in his boots and slicker, carrying another slicker for her. «I knew she wouldn't get far. Here, put this on.»
Maggie had her flashlight trained on the water. Wow, whitecaps. When this pond flooded, it didn't fool around. «I don't see her, Alex. We can't wait for you to get out of that stuff. And she's wearing it, too. She can't swim in that.» She began stripping off her soggy sweatshirt.
«Maggie, no—»
Maybe if he'd said «please» she wouldn't have done it? No, she was going to do it no matter what Alex said. Jumping in after Nikki Campion was just the sort of thing Maggie always did. Jump first, think later.
As the water closed over her head, Maggie instantly gained a whole new understanding of the word «cold.» She'd have to tell Evan.
She surfaced to sputter and to yell, «It's cold!» Treading water as she worked to toe off her loafers, she tried to get her bearings, but there was still no sign of Nikki. «She come up at all?» she yelled at Alex, who had trained both flashlights on the water.
«Only for a moment. To your left. Maggie, I—»
«Okay.» Maggie took another deep breath and went back under, opening her eyes, as she hoped to see something in the dark water.
And she did see something. The glow from Nikki's miner's light, or runner's light, or whatever the heck it was.
Maggie's feet touched bottom—the pond was probably only about nine or ten feet deep in this spot—then pushed off the graveled bottom even as she reached out with one hand and grabbed for the yellow slicker by the back of the collar.
Except her fingers hadn't closed around a collar; they'd closed around a strap, a wide strap. She pulled, and the strap came with her—or rather, the large cloth bag attached to the strap came with her. But not Nikki.
Maggie let go of the bag and it sank to the bottom of the pond. She was a good swimmer, which came from living her formative years at the Jersey shore, but she had limits. Lung capacity was one of them. Good thing she didn't smoke anymore or Nikki would be a goner.
Maggie surfaced, took another deep breath, and went down again, this time with more of a plan. Locating the glow of the miner's light, she judged where Nikki's arms were and grabbed one on the second try, pulling hard on the end of the sleeve of the slicker.
Luckily, the slicker had been fashioned for a much larger person. Even luckier, Nikki actually helped her, if blind panic can be called help.
Her arms and legs thrashing, Nikki grabbed onto Maggie, attacking her rescuer. Typical. So Maggie, not really feeling all that sorry about it, brought up her knee and popped the actress one square under the chin.
All in the name of rescue , she told herself as she grabbed onto Nikki's hair and headed for the surface.
«I've got her!»
Maggie sank a little as she felt Nikki being pulled up and out of the pond, then resurfaced in time to see Nikki's legs being dragged out of the water. «Yo. A little help here?»
Alex left Nikki where she lay on her stomach, coughing and retching, and reached for Maggie's hand. «You are the most feather-witted, headstrong, unbelievably selfish woman I have ever had the misfortune to encounter, do you know that? You could have drowned.»
«Yeah, I'm crazy about you, too,» Maggie gasped out, holding onto his hand as she gripped the edge of the raised path. «I'm betting the jewelry's still down there. She had it in a bag around her neck like an anchor, the jerk. Keep the flashlight on the water. I'm going to go back down and get it.»
«Maggie.»
«Don't try to stop me, Alex. I've had it up to here with these people, and I'm going to get those damn jewels and get out of England.»
«I agree. But perhaps you'd like to use this?» he suggested, retrieving Nikki's lighted headband and handing it down to her.
«Good thought,» Maggie said, trying to smile, but her teeth were chattering, so she gave up that particular effort as a bad job.
One last dive did the trick, as the handle of the bag actually seemed to be waving to her as she searched for it, and she was back on the surface and then on the slippery, bumpy path a moment later, lying face-to-face with Nikki Campion as the gray light of dawn became a little brighter. «Come here often?» she asked the drenched Nikki.
It was morning, and the case was solved. Sort of solved. Most of it solved. She hoped Alex was happy. She was. Rapidly freezing to death, maybe nearing a slight case of fatigue-induced delirium, but happy.
«I believe you two have been introduced,» Alex said, assisting Maggie to her feet. «Here,» he added, draping a wet slicker over her shoulders. «This won't help much, but it's better than nothing. Can you navigate the path back to the house while I assist Miss Campion?»