Deadly Affairs by Brenda Joyce

Author:Brenda Joyce
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
Published: 2012-06-04T22:49:01+00:00

TEN

Sunday, February 9, 1902—1:00 A.M.

Terror seized her, and she knew she was in the hands of the man who had gruesomely murdered both Mary and Kathleen.

"Don't move an' don't make a sound," he warned in her ear.

She couldn't move, as he held her far too tightly. Francesca tried to nod, but that, too, was almost impossible.

He dragged her outside, not bothering to close the door, and then he released her.

Francesca did not scream. She staggered backward, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, somehow having tasted his flesh, the taste horridly bitter. She glanced desperately across the circular driveway; it was starkly empty and Bragg was long gone. There would be no Kelp from him—she was alone with a madman.

As she could not speak, he spoke. "What do you want, Miz Cahill?"

It was dark out, so it was very hard to see his expression, but there was no mistaking the menace in his voice.

She cleared her throat, but her words came out in a whisper. "I am trying to find the man who killed Kathleen O'Donnell and Mary O'Shaunessy," she finally gasped.

"Oh! An' you think it's me?"

She backed up and hit the wall of the house. "No! I merely was hoping that you might provide a clue."

He stepped so close to her that she could smell his breath. He hadn't been drinking, but it was foul with decay and tobacco. "I liked fucking Kathleen, and that's what I been doing, fucking her—not killing her an' carving her up."

Francesca froze. He was their man. How else would he know about the cross carved into Kathleen's throat?

"You got any more questions for me?" he asked angrily. " 'Cause this is your one chance, lady."

She somehow shook her head.

"Good! Got no time for a bitch like you." He whirled and then turned back. "Next time you might think to lock your fancy door." He laughed and began stomping up the drive.

Francesca fled into the house, through it, and to the study. Her hands were shaking wildly, uncontrollably, as she dialed Bragg's home number. As it began to ring, she realized that there was simply no way he could be home yet. She hung up.

She should follow Sam Carter, so they would not lose him now.

Francesca ran back through the house, and as she did so, she cursed herself for leaving her gun behind when she had gone out for the evening. But how on earth would she have ever guessed that something like this would happen? She had been at the theater with the police commissioner, for God's sake!

She raced to the closest window looking out over the frozen grounds and toward the avenue. It was in one of the salons. As she did, she saw Sam Carter about to walk through the open front gates at the end of the driveway. Her fear warred with the few remaining shreds of courage left to her.

She could not go after him alone. God only knew what he would do if he discovered her tailing him.

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