Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [175]
“Don’t play games with me, Lorie,” Paul said. “I’ll do it. I swear, I’ll kill her.”
Lorie grabbed the knife, slid it into her pants pocket, and then hurriedly turned on the flashlight and held it under her chin.
“I’m here. See?”
“Where’s the boy?”
“M.J., tell Paul where you are,” Lorie called to Mike’s son.
“I’m in the hall.”
“You stay there, boy, or I’ll kill your sister.”
“Let her go,” Lorie pleaded. “We’ll lock her and M.J. in the storeroom and then you and I—”
“You don’t tell me what to do.” He lowered Hannah to her feet, put his hands around her throat, and squeezed.
Dropping the flashlight, Lorie screamed and lunged at him, every protective, maternal instinct within her coming into play. She yanked the knife out of her pocket and stabbed his arm. He yelped and instinctively released his hold around Hannah’s neck.
“Run, Hannah, run,” Lorie yelled as she jumped on Paul Babcock before he knew what had hit him.
He grabbed her just above her waist, his grip so tight that she felt as if he were cracking her ribs. Barely able to breathe, pain radiating through her body, she managed to lift her hand and plunge the paring knife into Paul’s neck. As he eased his tenacious hold on her, she jerked the knife out, fully intending to stab him again. Blood gushed from the puncture wound like water from a geyser and Lorie knew she had hit his jugular. He dropped to the floor, one big hand gripping his neck. Blood spurted through his fingers. He took her down with him as he fell to the floor and she lay there pinned beneath his stocky frame. He moaned and gurgled and then became unconscious within a couple of minutes. Lorie shoved him off her and crawled a few feet away. She sat there on the floor, her hands and face and clothing wet with Paul Babcock’s blood.
“M.J.,” she called out to Mike’s son.
No reply.
Lorie struggled to her feet, her knees weak, and her legs shaky. Where were the children? She searched and found the flashlight, turned it on, and staggered out into the hall. Dancing the light up and down and around, she found the hall completely empty. The back door stood wide open. Breathing raggedly, she walked to the door and looked out into the alley.
“M.J.? Hannah?”
The worst of the storm seemed to have passed, leaving behind a slow, steady rain falling from a gray sky. She stepped outside and let the clean, cool rain wash away some of Paul’s blood.
“Hannah? M.J. Where are you?” The alley was dark and shadowy, lit only by the dim dusty daylight that was quickly fading.
“Miss Lorie,” a little voice called from inside the nearby Dumpster.
“Hannah?” She rushed to the Dumpster and saw Hannah hiding there between two large black garbage sacks. Lorie reached down and lifted Hannah up and out. She flung her arms around Lorie’s neck.
“Where’s M.J.?” Lorie asked.
“He put me in the Dumpster and told me to hide,” Hannah explained. “He went for help.”
Hannah clung to Lorie for dear life as Lorie’s knees gave way and she eased them down to the ground there in the alley. Hannah sat in Lorie’s lap, her little head pressed against Lorie’s breast. Lorie wrapped her arms protectively around Mike’s baby girl.
Ten minutes later, that’s where Mike found them, his daughter and the woman he loved. Both of them drenched to the skin, Hannah clinging to Lorie and Lorie’s wet clothes stained red with blood.
Chapter 36
When Lorie walked out of the sheriff’s office the morning after stabbing and killing Paul Babcock, M.J. and Hannah on either side of her, she was met with an unpleasant surprise. A huge crowd of townsfolk had gathered, along with TV and newspaper reporters, including Ryan Bonner.
“What’s going on?” Hannah tugged on Lorie’s hand.
Scowling as he took in the scene before him, Mike came up behind Lorie and called to his mother, who stood just inside the doorway. “You kids go with Grams.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jack. “Take them out the back way and drive them home.”
“But I want to stay with Miss Lorie,” Hannah whined.