Magnificent Folly - Iris Johansen [28]
Pain!
Her head exploded into shards of agony.
“The child. Get the child,” said a guttural voice behind her. Pain again, this time in her right temple.
Darkness.
From where she lay on the floor Lily could see the door of Cassie’s room thrown open wide, the rumpled covers of the bed, the door of the closet ajar. Cassie. She had to find Cassie.
Cassie was gone.
Lily turned her head, and a bolt of agony made her blind and dizzy. Her stomach heaved with nausea, and she lay very still, trying to get the strength to make a new effort. Why had they taken Cassie?
She forced her eyes open and saw the gun on the floor beside her. She reached out, her palm closing on the butt of the pistol. Why hadn’t they taken the gun? Didn’t they know she would go after them? She couldn’t let them take her little girl.
She struggled to her knees and then waited for a fresh wave of pain to pass. The next attempt put her on her feet.
The telephone. She had to call the sheriff.
She staggered the few feet to the table and picked up the receiver. Dead. The phone was dead. They must have cut the wires.
She wished she could think. She lifted her hand to rub her temple, and it came away wet. Blood. She gazed at it curiously before wiping her fingers absently on the skirt of her nightgown. What could she do now? She didn’t even know how long they had been gone or how long she had been unconscious. They might be a hundred miles away and traveling farther with every passing second. She was too weak to try to walk the ten miles to town to get the sheriff. She had to find someone to help her.
Andrew.
But he had said their cottage was a half mile from the crest of the cliff, and the trail up to the summit would be at least another quarter mile. She couldn’t make it.
Cassie.
Of course she could make it, dammit. She moved carefully toward the front door, keeping her neck very straight, so that the pain was only a throbbing ache. She had to make it to Andrew. She was going to make it.
The cool breeze on her cheeks felt invigorating, but it didn’t help the nausea. Well, that would have to go away too. She would not have it. She wouldn’t be beaten by those hoodlums. She held tightly to the banister as she made her way slowly down the steps of the deck.
Why didn’t they answer the door?
She pounded again, but the thump sounded weak and ineffectual even to her own ears. She was so tired, but she had to pound harder or they wouldn’t hear. She lifted her hand again.
A slit of light appeared beneath the door. They had heard her. The door swung open.
Andrew.
His fair hair was tousled, his eyes glittering in the lamplight. Why didn’t he say anything? He was looking at her so strangely.
Maybe she was the one who was supposed to say something. Her lips tried to form words, but nothing came out.
“What is it, Andrew?” It was Quenby’s voice, issuing from somewhere in the room behind Andrew.
Finally one word struggled from her lips. “Cassie …”
She pitched forward in a dead faint.
Andrew was sitting in the chair beside the bed when Lily opened her eyes. His hand instantly covered her own on the counterpane. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll get Cassie back, Lily.”
Light poured through the bay window across the room, revealing an unfamiliar bedroom. Of course, it was the cliff cottage, she realized. She had come to Andrew for help. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight o’clock. You showed up on the doorstep at three in the morning, and you’ve been unconscious ever since.” A muscle jumped in his cheek. “You scared the hell out of me. You were covered with blood, and you looked as if—”
“They hit me. Twice.” Lily tried to sit up. “I thought there was only one man, but the other must have been standing beside the doorway when I—”
“You don’t have to go into the details.” He pushed her back against the pillows. “What’s important is getting you well and getting Cassie back.”
“Have you called the sheriff? They should put out an all-points bulletin.”
“Not yet.”
She looked at him incredulously.