At the Edge of the Sun (Maggie Bennett 3) - Page 23

Maggie shook her head. “I wish I knew. I called from Heathrow and there was still no change. Maybe that’s the best thing. Maybe her body has to just … rest … recuperate before her mind can face the world again.”

“I wouldn’t have called a coma R and R.”

“So I’m grasping at straws. She’ll pull through, Holly. She’s got to. We’re going to bring her Tim Flynn’s head on a platter, and she has to be there to appreciate it,” Maggie said fiercely.

Holly shuddered. “I almost believe you mean it.”

“Well, a platter might be a little messy. I could use a bowling bag.”

“Maggie, don’t!”

Maggie looked up at her sister in the dim light. “I’m going to kill him, Holly. I’m not going to read him his rights or knock him on the head. I’m going to kill him in cold blood.”

“If Ian doesn’t do it first.”

Maggie nodded. “There’s always that possibility. I don’t really care, as long as he’s dead.”

“You never used to be so bloodthirsty. Was it Mack’s death that made you so vengeful?”

Holly’s thoughtless words brought back a shaft of pain. For a moment Maggie shut her eyes, remembering. And with that memory came the possibility, the probability of Randall’s guilt, and a knot formed in her stomach once more. “Yes,” she said grimly. “It was.”

“How long do you think it will take them to get back?” Holly asked again.

“God only knows. I think I’ll try to get some sleep. You may as well too. According to Randall you’re going to have to share your room with Ian when he gets back, and I wouldn’t think that would lead to a decent night’s sleep.”

“I know,” Holly said in her gloomiest tone of voice, her eyes bright. “It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it. I wouldn’t think you’d enjoy sharing a bed with Randall.”

“I’m not going to.”

“But how … never mind. You’re right, a nap would be a good idea. They … they don’t have any lights in this place, do they?” Holly’s question was innocent enough, but Maggie could feel her eyes watching her.

“No, they don’t. But that’s my problem, not yours. Don’t worry about Ian, Holly. Thorns in one’s sides don’t tend to go away. They fester.”

“On that cheerful note I think I’ll head to my room. At least we have two beds in it.”

“Maybe I’ll share yours and leave Randall in solitary splendor,” Maggie said.

“You’re welcome to try. At least it would keep Ian’s lustful passions at bay.”

“Ian has lustful passions?” Maggie echoed.

“Not yet. But hope springs eternal.” She eyed her sister. “I’ll tell you what. We’re supposed to share our rooms with the big strong men for protection, right? And the big strong men are nowhere to be seen. So it makes sense for us to stay together. This room’s more secure than mine—we’ll take turns keeping watch. You sack out first.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” There was no mistaking the relief in Maggie’s voice. “You sleep first.”

“I’m not tired, and you can barely keep your eyes open. Don’t worry, Maggie. I won’t let the boogie man get you.”

“Fat chance you’ll have against Randall,” she murmured sleepily, stretching out on the narrow bed.

“Is he the boogie man?”

“If he isn’t, I don’t know who is,” she said, closing her eyes in the shadowy room.

She didn’t know how much later it was when she awakened. All she knew was it was dark, and she was alone.

The darkness closed around her, mingled with her own self-disgust. There was nothing she could do. She knew she should get up, try to find Holly in the pitch blackness, but her limbs were frozen. She could do nothing but lie there and wait. Sooner or later Randall would return, sooner or later the sun would rise. Until then all she could do was lie in that bed and grit her teeth so that the screams wouldn’t leave her throat.

The bed was narrow, sagging, and wretchedly uncomfortable. The thin blanket provided no warmth at all, and Maggie lay there, still fully dressed, shivering, her wet palms clutching the sides of the mattress, lay there as the black night covered her, smothered her, stole her breath and life away. She lay there, hot tears pouring down her chilled face, lay there helplessly and did the one thing she could never forgive herself for. She prayed for Randall to come.

Tags: Anne Stuart Maggie Bennett Suspense
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