A Masked Murder by Fiona Grace

Author:Fiona Grace [Grace, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fiona Grace
Published: 2024-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

With her shoes skidding on the neatly mowed grass, Autumn pounded across the lawn. Thank goodness, in view of the chilly breeze, she’d opted to wear black pants instead of a skirt. A skirt would have gotten in the way. Not that her outfit was helping her. Her scarf was coming loose and threatening to fly right off her neck. Just in time, without slowing her speed, Autumn grabbed it and clutched it in her hand.

Finn was heading at a breakneck pace for the woods. In his panic, though, he was zigzagging indecisively across the grass. That allowed Autumn to close the distance. All she had to do was figure out that there was only one entrance into the woods – a clearly marked gate in the fence line where the trail began – and head for it.

There was nowhere else Finn could go. He was making a getaway. It was a clear sign of guilt. Perhaps the mention of the masked ball had caused him to crack, as his conscience got the better of him and drove home the reality of what he’d done.

The zigzag route was taking him to the gate. Now, though, Autumn was worried that if he got through the gate, she wouldn’t be able to catch up with him in time. He was running with strength and desperation, and in the woods, it would be far easier for him to lose her.

“Hey! Wait!” she shouted. “I want to talk to you!”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” he shouted back. Fair enough, Autumn had to admit. That answer was both truthful and logical. However, it didn’t help her.

Was there a way she could persuade him to slow down?

“The hotel’s going to be angry that you ran away from doing your job!” she shouted. He’d reached the trail head now, and glanced back at her, his expression taut.

“I’m on tea break!” he yelled.

Autumn gulped in air as she headed into the woods. He was about fifty yards ahead, running strongly. At least the trail was straight, so she could keep him in sight, but he definitely had the advantage. She was clutching her scarf in one hand, clamping her purse under her other arm, and felt thoroughly ill-equipped for this impromptu pursuit.

"Why are you running?" she called, aware that she was already getting breathless, and that there wasn't much more conversation that would be possible. Her shoe skidded in a muddy puddle, which splattered over it and her pants leg. She leaped high, avoiding an even deeper puddle beyond.

“Go away!” he shouted back, without turning his head.

“Is this because of the ball?”

“Stop asking questions!” the agonized shout came back. “You’re slowing me down!”

Well, that was the point.

“You can’t keep running forever,” she yelled. “What do you think I’m going to do? I’m a harmless woman!”

He could be the killer, of course. Confronting him alone in the woods might not be a great idea. Not that she’d planned for this chase, but it could land her in a precarious situation.

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