Bones of a Feather - Carolyn Haines [108]
And then my sea dragon gained firm land and we surged out of the river onto the bank. My body struck the mud, and in a moment someone was beside me, turning my head and pushing firmly on my abdomen.
“Breathe, damn it. If you quit now, I’ll kill you.”
I couldn’t think who was fussing at me. All I wanted to do was go to my father, who stood pacing on the edge of the water in a shaft of the most perfect light.
“Sarah Booth, you have to fight.” The annoying man shook me. “Fight!”
But I didn’t want to. I only wanted to slip into the sunlight and walk down a shady lane with my father. The familiar sycamore trees swayed in a light breeze, and in the distance I could see Dahlia House. Daddy strode toward home. If I hurried, I could catch him.
24
Pain woke me. I fought against consciousness, wanting only to get to the sunshine and my daddy’s side. Even as I struggled, Daddy began to fade. He smiled at me and nodded, as if he approved of something, and then I felt harsh pressure on my rib cage. Fingers pinched my nose shut and lips covered my mouth as someone forced air into my lungs.
Water surged up my throat and I gagged. I pushed at the man who was trying to suffocate me, causing a red-hot blaze to zing through my right arm.
“Thank God.” Barclay Levert rocked back on his heels and gave me some room to flail and struggle. I tried to swat him in the face, but my arms refused to obey my commands.
Beside my head a horse’s hoof stomped, and I wondered if I had truly come awake. The creature shook and droplets of waters sprayed over me. When lightning illuminated the sky, I could see the Andalusian standing over me, his long mane tossing in a wind building to gale force out of the west. Any minute the sky would crack open and I figured a band of angels would swing down in a chariot.
“Can you sit up?” Barclay gave me an assist.
I could and did, though I cried out in pain. My arm blazed. Blood dripped from a bullet wound. I’d been shot. The whole nightmare on the river came back to me.
“Monica!” I tried to rise, but Barclay pushed me back to the mud, which made a sucking sound around my near-naked bottom. I wore only panties and a bra. My clothes had been swallowed by the river.
“Take it easy. You’re hurt.”
“He threw Monica in the river. I think she was already dead.” I had to get it all out. “The antidote for Tinkie is gone. So is the money.”
I thought for a moment he was daft as he pulled off his black T-shirt and tore it into strips.
“Did you hear what I said?” And then another thought struck me. How the hell did Barclay and the black devil horse from Briarcliff get down to the river to rescue me?
“Listen to me, Sarah Booth.” He forced me to focus my thoughts and hear him. “After we traded cars, I went back to Briarcliff. I started through some of the old family history books in the library. I found a map of underground tunnels that link Briarcliff to the river. I’m sure Eleanor knew about those tunnels. Old Barthelme used the cliff tunnels to rob boats docked at Natchez and make good his escape. For generations the family must have kept this secret.”
What was it with this case? All roads led back to a man long dead, Barthelme Levert. He’d branded his legacy of deceit, lies, and murder on his family in a way that was inescapable.
Barclay caught my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I took the maps and began searching, thinking maybe Monica was being held hostage in one of the tunnels. That’s when Tinkie texted me, ‘Sarah Booth in trouble at bridge. Help.’ I assumed this bridge and I got here as quickly as I could. One of the tunnels connects with the stables, so I saddled Lucifer and came down through the tunnel thinking you might need help. I saw you in the boat. I saw you get shot, and you were drowning. Lucky for you Lucifer is a strong swimmer. He was able to get to you and then struggle back to the bank.”
So it was Barclay