Emily and the Stranger (33 page)

"Do you want to tell Charles or shall I?" Numbness claimed Emily as she stared at Stuart's uncle. The man who had sat at her bedside and comforted her after Stuart's death. The man who had loved her, supported her, encouraged her. The man who had willed her to live when she'd wanted to die.

Fowler
Jordan
laughed, the hearty chuckles rumbling from his chest and bursting into the atmosphere like frightening thunder. Charles's eyes rounded into big, brown circles of shock.

"Are you saying that Fowler killed Rod Simmons?" Charles's voice quivered.

Emily clutched the loose material on each side of her slacks, just below her hips. Dear Lord, was this really happening? Was it actually possible that her beloved Uncle Fowler was a murderer? "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"No, I don't believe it." Charles looked at Fowler. "Tell her that she's mistaken. You wouldn't—"

"Ah, but I would," Fowler admitted. "I'd do anything to prevent Emily from wasting her life on a man like Hayden."

"I don't understand," Charles said.

"It's quite simple, really." Fowler glanced from Emily to Charles. "I thought that if I killed Rod Simmons, I could eliminate two birds with one stone, so to speak."

Charles stared, bleary-eyed, at his mentor. "You really did kill that boy."

"My plan was for Mitch Hayden to be arrested. Which he was," Fowler said. "And I believed that once Emily realized Hayden truly was a murderer, she would come to her senses and cut all ties to the man. I thought she would return to us, Charles, and we could continue with our plans. I felt that, in time, she'd realize my choices for her were the right choices."

"But I didn't cut all ties to Mitch, did I?" Emily stared at Fowler, the man who had cared for her with such love and compassion after the fire, and wondered what had happened to him. How could he have changed so drastically from a kind, gentle man to a monster, capable of murdering an innocent man as a part of his misguided schemes?

"No, foolish girl that you are, thinking with your body's lust, you clung to your worthless lover." While holding the Magnum steady in one hand, he delved inside his coat pocket with the other and removed a handkerchief, then wiped the perspiration from his face. "I thought hiring those young thugs to break into your house twice and warn you against seeing another man—any other man than the one I'd chosen for you—would be enough. But no, you wouldn't heed the warnings."

"You set Mitch up for Rod's murder," Emily said, her voice deceptively calm. Her insides were a trembling mess. "You planned it all out, didn't you? You murdered that sweet, innocent boy because of me."

Fowler grinned. Nausea hit Emily squarely in the stomach, like a giant acidic tidal wave eating holes in a placid shore. She covered her mouth with her hand, muting her gasp of realization. This man wasn't the uncle who loved her. This man
was
a monster—a monster capable of destroying anyone and anything. That included Charles—and even her! A scream caught in her throat, trapped there by pure fear.

"You called and left a message for Mitch and you called me and disguised your voice when you told me that Mitch had gone to Rod's apartment. You wanted me to be there when Mitch was arrested. And you called the police, too, didn't you?"

"Guilty on all charges." Fowler's grin widened. His eyes actually twinkled with some inner pleasure. "It was so easy. Rod was such a pathetic weakling. And Mitchell Hayden. Ah, that stupid muscle-bound idiot played right into my hands. Hell, he even brought his own gun. I didn't even have to use my own. All I had to do was hog-tie and gag Red and wait in the closet until Hayden showed up. You see my dear, everything would have worked out perfectly if you had just cooperated. But no, once again, you had to ruin all my carefully executed plans."

"Fowler, you're a sick man," Charles said. "Please, let Emily and me help you. We can call the police and then—"

"I'm afraid that calling the police right now isn't part of my new plan." Fowler chuckled. "Of course, after you've taken Emily hostage and I've shot you, and accidentally shot Emily, too, in trying to save her from you, then I'll have to call the police and tell them what happened."

Emily could not believe that any of this was actually happening. But it was. And if she didn't think of some way to save herself and Charles, they'd soon be dead! Uncle Fowler had lost his mind.

"But you wouldn't harm Emily," Charles rationalized. "You love her. You've devoted the past five years of your life to her."

"You're quite right. I did devote my life to Emily. I loved her like the daughter I never had. All I wanted in return for all I'd given her was for her to marry you, for the two of you to live in this house with me and raise your children here. But she turned from you to another man. A man totally unsuitable for her. A man completely unworthy."

"I won't let you kill Emily." Charles spoke through clenched teeth, his face contorted with fear.

"I'm afraid I must kill Emily. It's the only way I can save her from herself. And regrettably, in order to make my plan work, I'll have to kill you, too. The police must be convinced that you killed Rod Simmons. I will tell them that you took Emily hostage, that you threatened her life and that I tried to stop you, killing you in the process. And unfortunately, I accidentally shot Emily when I tried to rescue her from you."

Emily could not believe the cold-blooded plot her uncle had devised. Had she ever really known this man, or had his kind and loving demeanor been only a facade?

Charles moved toward Fowler. Emily tried to cry out to warn him not to confront Fowler, but her voice froze in her throat.

"You're not going to kill Emily." Charles advanced on Fowler, seemingly oblivious to the weapon in Fowler's hand.

Fowler fired his gun. Charles gasped. He stared at Fowler in disbelief, then slumped to the floor.

Emily screamed. Blood cozed from Charles's stomach. Emily turned her head, gasping for breath.

He had done it. He had actually shot Charles. And she was going to be next.

"Please … don't hurt Emily," Charles pleaded as the life drained slowly from his body.

* * *

Mitch, Nikki and Zed boarded the rented helicopter in Bay Minette less than ten minutes after the
Mobile
police had been notified about the possible danger to Emily Jordan. The police chief, a personal friend of Zed's, had promised not to waste any time sending two patrol cars out to the
Jordan
residence on
Solomon Drive
, and had promised to have a SWAT team on standby. Zed assured Mitch that everything possible was being done, but he could only imagine the torture his old friend was going through, not knowing if he'd ever see the woman he loved alive again.

* * *

In that split second after Fowler shot Charles, he focused all his attention on him. Bending down on one knee, he stared at him, then ran the tips of his fingers over his face. Charles groaned, dying but not yet dead.

Emily realized that Fowler wasn't paying any attention to her. Slowly, cautiously, she took one step backward, then another and another, keeping an eye on her uncle all the while. She continued moving backward, toward the French doors leading to the enclosed courtyard at the side of the house.

"I'm so sorry, my dear boy," Fowler told the dying Charles. "I regret that things had to end this way. It's all Emily's fault, of course. If she'd done as I expected her to, then none of this would have been necessary."

Emily slipped back against the French doors, reached behind her and grasped the crystal knob.

"I treated her like a queen." Fowler stood, shook his head sadly and sighed. "Poor girl. Poor misguided girl. I can't allow her to go on living. Not now. Now that she's in love with Stuart's murderer. Now that she's given herself to him."

Emily turned the doorknob, eased the door open a fraction and then opened it just a little bit more.

The doorbell rang. Fowler jumped. Emily froze to the spot.

"Who the hell?" Fowler asked himself.

The doorbell rang again.

Emily flung the French doors open and ran outside. Fowler raced after her, ignoring the ringing doorbell.

Emily hid behind a five-foot hedge that hugged the far back side wall of the enclosed courtyard. Her heartbeat hammered in her ears, obliterating every other sound.

"Come out, Emily dear, wherever you are." Fowler
Jordan
circled the courtyard. "There's nowhere to run, no way out."

Emily swallowed hard. He was wrong. There was a way out. Through the intricately carved cast-iron gate that opened up onto the driveway. But she would have to expose herself, put herself in the line of fire, to reach the gate.

She watched from her hiding place as Fowler scoured the courtyard, looking behind every bush, circling the two trees, overturning the patio furniture. Then he halted his rampage and stared directly at the hedge. He smiled.

"I know where you're hiding. Come on out. Now!" Emily reached down, picked up a handful of pebbles and threw them at the opposite end of the hedgerow. She waited until Fowler began his search of the hedge at the far end, a good twenty feet away from her.

She crept along the hedgerow, then darted out and dashed to the gate. The moment she grabbed the latch, a shot rang out over her head, zinging off the cast iron.

Emily screamed, but she didn't look back. He was going to kill her, no matter what. She would rather die trying to escape than to wait for him to shoot her.

She unlatched the gate and swung open the door. Fowler fired again. Crying out in pain, she grabbed her shoulder where the bullet had entered and ran out of the courtyard and onto the driveway.

* * *

When Mitch, Nikki and Zed arrived at the
Jordan
house on
Solomon Street
, they found the
Mobile
police in charge of an explosive situation. A uniformed officer stopped them.

"What's going on here?" Zed inquired.

"Sir, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you and the others to leave the vicinity."

Paying no heed to the officer, Mitch rushed past him and headed across the street. If Emily was here, inside that house and in trouble, he had to go to her. Had to save her. Another policeman grabbed Mitch. Mitch reared back, drawing his hand into a fist.

"Don't, Mitch," Zed yelled. "I'll find out what's going on."

Lowering his fist to his side, Mitch glared at the officer, who held on to Mitch.

A dark sedan pulled up and parked directly behind the two police cars. A tall sandy-haired man in his late forties emerged, threw up his hand in greeting and walked toward Zed.

"Stay cool, Mitch," Zed warned. "Arnold Madden's here now and I'll find out what's going on." Zed turned to greet the new arrival. "
Arnold
, that's Mitch Hayden over there." Zed nodded toward Mitch and the officer just barely restraining him. "He's half out of his mind worrying about Emily Jordan. What the hell's going on here?"

"Release Mr. Hayden," Chief of Police
Arnold
Madden ordered the officer, who obeyed instantly, but stared
at
his commanding officer as if he questioned the man's sanity.

"Come here, Mr. Hayden, and I'll brief you and Zed on what's happened," Madden said.

Nikki rushed over to Zed. He slipped his arm around her waist. Mitch ran back across the street and stepped up on the sidewalk to stand on the other side of Zed.

"We don't know the whole story yet," Madden told them. "When our men arrived, we couldn't get anyone to answer the door, but we heard a gunshot."

Mitch cursed loudly. "If anything has happened to Emily, I'll—"

"When my men got inside, they discovered the body of a man in his early thirties. We found some ID in his wallet. His name was Charles Tolbert."

"Where is Emily and her uncle?" Zed asked.

"I'm afraid Mr.
Jordan
is outside in the courtyard, and he's holding his niece hostage."

Mitch's heart thundered in his chest. He trembled, knowing the truth. Bile rose from his stomach, coating his throat. He clenched his jaw tightly. Emily. Dear God in heaven! Emily was in the hands of a madman. A man she had loved and trusted.

Zed gripped Mitch's shoulder, but looked directly at the police chief. "What's been done to free Ms.
Jordan
?"

"The SWAT team is getting in place," Madden said. "And Fowler Jordan is talking to our officer inside the house."

Nikki gasped. Tears trickled down her cheeks. "Please, please don't let anything happen to Emily."

"We're going to do our best," Madden told her. "At this point, we have to assume that Ms. Jordan could be injured."

"I'm going in there," Mitch said.

Zed tightened his hold on Mitch's shoulder, then grabbed his arm and jerked him around so that they faced each other. "Let the police do their job. Once the SWAT team gets set, they can put a sharpshooter in place and he can take
Jordan
out."