Murder Follows Money by Lora Roberts

Author:Lora Roberts [Roberts, Lora]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 2000-04-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

I left the bus in the driveway instead of reparking in front of the garage. Hannah insisted that we get moving right away. The CNN report had freaked her out.

“I can’t do this,” Bridget said, while Hannah urged her toward her Suburban. “I have kids to pick up at preschool in a couple of hours.”

“Let’s go.” Hannah showed the gun again. “I’ve just been asking your friend Liz here how it feels to shoot someone. Don’t make me find out firsthand.”

Bridget looked at me. I shrugged. Now that I’d been branded an abducting ex-con on national TV I found myself less interested in attracting the attention of law-enforcement types. Drake would believe me, I knew, but any other cop who pulled us over would see me as the perpetrator because of my record, and that would be rather unpleasant until Bridget could verify my story. At this point, I would have been a total fatalist if it hadn’t been for worrying about Bridget. If anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself.

We climbed into the Suburban in the configuration Hannah dictated—Bridget and I in the wide front seat, Hannah in the middle seat. She had to push some toys out of the way and share the space with Moira’s car seat.

Bridget turned to face Hannah. “You must see how ridiculous this is. I have children to tend. Liz needs her life back. We’ve done nothing to you. If you want to run away, why don’t you do it on your own?”

“Drive,” Hannah said. She sat, stony-faced, while Bridget started the car. It rumbled like an attack vehicle.

“When are you going to get a new car?” I listened to the various clanks and rattles, and wondered if we’d even make it to the Thrift Savers.

“I don’t know. When Moira gets out of college, probably.”

“But she’s only two.”

“Right.” Bridget drove slowly up the street. “Do I have a destination, or am I just contributing to smog without any goal?”

“Hannah wants to go to the Thrift Savers and look for vintage linens.

Bridget looked at me in disbelief, then checked out Hannah in the rear-view mirror. “Is that right? You want to go to the secondhand store?”

“Of course it’s true.” Hannah put on her most haughty air. “As long as I’m forced into this distasteful role, I might as well see what I can find there. Perhaps it would make a good subject for our TV show.”

“Delusional,” I muttered. Hannah didn’t hear me over the noisy engine, but Bridget did. “Humor her.”

“I don’t like this.” Bridget’s round face was pinched. Normally she is a sweet, sunny person who does whatever is put in her path and does it well.

“Nobody likes it. Certainly poor Naomi didn’t.” Bridget was silent a moment, negotiating a turn onto El Camino. We went north, toward San Carlos.

“You think Hannah killed her?”

“I did at first.” I glanced over my shoulder. Hannah was looking through the front windshield, her expression fixed. But I had no doubt that she could handle any rebellion we staged in an efficient and ruthless manner.

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