TRAPPED BY THE DARK, a blackness deeper than any she had ever experienced before, Sydney knew her vision was coming true.
She was suffocating... couldn’t breathe... couldn’t scream for help again.
No one to hear.
No exit.
Choking on the smoke that was filling the room, she tried a window but couldn’t free the lock. The glass. She could break the glass.
Find something heavy, she told herself, going over the room in her mind.
The speakers.
Heat seared her as she stumbled to the wall unit and blindly searched the top shelf. The fire roared to her left. She could barely see the flames through the thick smoke that made her eyes tear. Her fingers found the front panel of a speaker. She grasped it with both hands and pulled, but wires prevented her from walking off.
She jerked hard – once, twice, three times. Finally, the speaker came free, the momentum carrying her several steps across the room. She stumbled, and, unable to catch herself, went flying head first. Contact. Stars lit the blackness and she dropped the speaker. Her hand grasped a ledge. She’d run into the drawing table.
No time to wait for the pain to recede, she told herself as she started coughing.
Picking up the speaker and using the drawing table as a guide, she worked her way around to the window furthest from the fire. Then she backed off, closed her eyes to protect them, and swung her arms in a broad arc.
She let the speaker fly and continued turning. With her back to the window, she covered her face as glass shattered and sprayed her. A sharp pain in the back of her neck made her wince. She freed the jagged piece of glass and advanced to the window, her foot brushing the speaker where it had fallen to the floor. Aware of the razor sharp edges that would be left along the pane, she carefully felt for the shutters, then shoved at the wooden barrier with all her might.
It didn’t budge.
Don’t panic. Just figure a way to get through, she told herself.
Her lungs felt as if they’d been seared and were on the verge of collapse, her head ached and her neck stung, yet Sydney found the strength somewhere. She felt for the speaker with her foot, hoping it would be heavy enough to pop the locks if she banged it against the shutters.
“Sydney!”
Her name came from outside. She froze until she realized it wasn’t Fox who called her.
“Benno!” She croaked out his name and turned back to the shutters. She slammed both palms into the wood.
“Sydney? Where are you?”
She hit them again, this time with her fists. “Here.” The word was swallowed as she began choking on the smoke.
“Hold on.”
The clack of bolts being released was a welcome sound. A harsh cough racked her slender body. The shutters opened and, caught by the wind, whipped back against the side of the building. The air she gulped made her cough even harder. Her eyes watered so she could hardly see.
“Come on, but be careful of the glass,” Benno warned.
She blinked to clear her eyes. His arms were stretched out, reaching for her...
Just as they had been in the vision, Sydney thought.
“Get away!” she yelled, trying to climb out herself. His life was in danger if he stayed. Her skirt caught on a giant shard, sending her off balance. Her left hand shot out and nicked a spiked piece of glass. “A-a-h!”
“Let me help you,” Benno said grimly, placing his hands around her waist as she righted herself on the sill.
“No,” she croaked. “I can do it. Get away from here now.”
But Benno ignored her and pulled her free of certain death.
Sydney’s mind whirled. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. She had tried to take charge, to turn her back on the man she loved so she could save him. But the vision was coming true anyway.
Benno led her a safe distance from the burning house to the nearby copse of trees. Despite the wind that tore at her skirt, Sydney couldn’t seem to get her breath. She tried to control the cough but felt as if she were choking.
“Let’s stop here,” Benno said, forcing her to sit on a fallen tree not far from where she’d found Kenneth Lord’s body. “Try to take deep breaths.”
What she tried was to tell him to get away while he could, but she couldn’t find her voice to warn him. His full attention was centered on her and she knew the warning would do no good. He wouldn’t leave her.
And then it was too late.
From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed movement. She turned as a dark figure bore down on them, arms swinging. Though her eyes were still tearing, she saw the board as it struck Benno’s wounded arm.
“Aagh.” Clutching it, Benno sank to his knees.
“No, stop!” she screamed hoarsely, pushing herself up from the log.
Another hit across the back of his head had Benno sprawled across the ground. He lay still, unable to rise.
Sydney jumped on his assailant only to be thrown to the side as the man pulled out a gun... the same gun she’d seen in her dream. He poked Benno with his toe. When he got no response, he turned the gun on her.
And Sydney had no doubts she was looking at a murderer.
His lips turned up in a crooked smile. “Sydney, my love.”
She was facing the man she thought she’d married... the man who more recently had wanted to marry Martha.
“Al Fox,” she said when she regained her breath. “Or should I call you Alan Foxglove?” she asked.
“Or maybe you would prefer Alexander Foxworth, the name your old friend Candace knew me by,” he returned with that crooked grin that had won her heart.
Sydney’s jaw dropped. Fox. Foxglove. Foxworth.
“Of course,” she whispered, dazed. “I knew I should have been able to figure it out. I found the newspaper clipping you left in your apartment. I knew whoever was trying to frame me had to be someone from my past.” Though she had never met her friend’s fiance, and therefore wouldn’t have recognized him. “And I found a letter from the real Kenneth Lord to you, mentioning some rich women whose jewels you’d stolen – one of whom was Candace,” she said, remembering her friend’s sad tale. “If only I had remembered the name Lex Foxworth sooner.”
Fox laughed. “Too bad you didn’t use those psychic abilities of yours to figure out who I was when you met me.”
Though she hadn’t used those abilities in years, had, in fact, supressed them, they had started kicking in, trying to warn her of danger even before she met her “Kenneth.” She’d been too burned out, too willing to believe she was going crazy to understand what was happening to her.
“You might have been able to get away,” Fox went on. “I would have followed you, of course. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for almost four years.”
“How could anyone be so obsessed?”
“You took away my meal ticket.”
Wondering if she could keep him talking until help came – surely someone reported the fire – she said, “And you found another wealthy woman. Martha.”
“Only after doing time because of you. Candy told me you warned her about me when she had me arrested for stealing her jewelry.”
“And you wanted to frame me for that?”
“Hey, one good turn deserves another.”
With his free hand, Fox grabbed Sydney’s wrist and dragged her along the path through the stand of trees.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, her heart pounding in earnest. The man was a killer, capable of anything. “Where are you taking me?”
She glanced back at Benno who hadn’t moved and prayed he would be all right. And then she looked at the house. He’d gotten her out just in time. It was starting to collapse. Soon nothing would be left standing.
“When I clipped that article about you out of the newspaper,” Fox said, “I knew I would find a way to get to you. I took it out and looked at it every day I was in stir. I never guessed how easy it would be to track you down and win your trust. Then, when you fell in
love with me, I was positive I could take care of both Lord and you in one neat plan.”
“Your plan isn’t so neat anymore.”
“That’s why I have to tidy things up.”
“The way you did with the photographs?” she asked.
“That was pretty clever of me, I have to admit. I knew you couldn’t go flashing those pictures around or Martha would recognize me. You made things easy by leaving the camera where you dropped it until the next day. I switched the film before you went back for it. Worked right into my master plan. Now everyone will think you committed suicide because you had a breakdown. They’ll be convinced you killed Kenneth Lord.”
Suicide. How close she’d come the day she stumbled over the real Kenneth Lord’s body. But if she’d survived that episode, she would survive this, Sydney vowed. She needed to keep him talking until she could figure out how.
“Did you plan Kenneth’s murder alone or was Martha the brains behind the operation?”
Fox laughed. “That twit? She doesn’t know anything. Even if she does have suspicions, she’ll keep her mouth shut. She’s as gullible as you were – she thinks I love her and can’t wait to marry me. No, this brilliant plan is mine.”
So neither Martha nor anyone else had been involved in Kenneth’s death, after all. “What are you planning on doing to me?” she asked, even knowing he was taking her to the cliff, the site of his “accident.”
“Since you wouldn’t break and throw yourself off as I had hoped, and since you didn’t stay put in the fire, I’ll have to give you some help. Your body will probably wash up on the beach with the morning’s tide. I haven’t figured out what I’ll do with DeMartino’s body.”
Benno? Sydney felt as if she’d been struck. “You can’t kill him.”
“Watch me.” He laughed. “Oops – I almost forgot you won’t be able to.”
“But Benno didn’t do anything to you.” She was getting panicky now that reality was setting in. Not only was she in mortal danger, but so was the man she loved. “You have no score to settle with him.”
“He got in my way.”
They’d cleared the trees and were approaching the area where she’d stood to take pictures of her “new husband.” The wind whipped at them, pushed them forward.
Trying to think of a way to escape his plan, she stalled by asking, “How did you fake your death?”
“There’s a ledge just below where I ‘slipped.’ I had enough time to duck behind an overhang, so you couldn’t even see me from the water. A risky performance, I admit, but well worth the reward.”
Hoping to catch Fox off guard, Sydney purposely stumbled over one of the fissures in the rock. Though she went down to her knees, Fox continued on, dragging her. Desperate, she started screaming.
“Help! Anyone! Murderer!”
“Shut up.”
Stopping long enough to pull her to her feet, he tried to cover her mouth with his gun hand. Sydney bit down and elbowed him. He lost his grip both on her and on the weapon. The gun went skittering off into the dark.
She made her break back the way they came, her chest heaving with the effort as she went against the wind. The smoke had wreaked havoc with her lungs and the effort was draining her strength. Fox followed and, in two seconds, had her by the arm. The cough started again and she gave up for the moment. At least he hadn’t gone after the gun. Now he wouldn’t be able to find the weapon while still keeping hold of her.
“We can do this easy or rough,” he said, jerking her around. “You choose.”
Gasping for air, she said, “I’ll take rough.”
Sydney struggled, kicking and pummeling him with the little strength she had left, but she lost her footing for real this time. She went down hard. Rather than righting her, Fox merely grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her toward the precipice. Her skirt rode up to her thighs and her free leg took a beating against the stone. Ignoring the pain, she tried kicking Fox with her loose foot, but he was ready for the attempted strike and danced out of her way.
They were getting close to the edge of the cliff.
Too close.
Sydney changed tactics. She clawed at the ground, trying to find a hold. Her fingers scraped raw across the rocky surface. Winded, she tried to catch her breath. Finally, with a burst of strength that could only come from adrenaline manufactured by desperation, she reached out and caught hold of a boulder with both arms. She brought Fox to a sudden halt that jarred her bones and made her teeth clack together.
“Son-of-a–”
”Get away from her!” came a nearby shout.
Benno. Moonlight haloed her dark knight who came charging after them. He was all right then. And Fox no longer had the gun. Benno wouldn’t die, after all. Maybe they would both come out of this alive.
Fox grabbed a handful of Sydney’s hair and jerked hard, making her let go of the rock. “Come closer and I’ll kill her,” he warned Benno.
She found the voice to shout, “He doesn’t have the gun any more and he intends to kill me anyway.”
“A gun wouldn’t stop me,” Benno said, still coming.
As he drew closer and she could see him better, Sydney realized he wasn’t in the best of shape. He was holding his bad arm stiffly and he looked drawn as if he were in a great deal of pain. She could tell Fox was uncertain as to what to do, but she doubted he would run and forfeit his entire scheme.
She felt like a puppet as, still holding on to her hair, Fox whipped her forward in Benno’s path. She crashed into him whileFox scrambled and tried to find the gun.
“You all right?” Benno asked.
“Yes.”
Like a shot, he took off after Fox who was bending over, arm outstretched. Fear gripped Sydney for a moment, but Benno got to Fox before Fox could pick up the gun. He kicked the murderer square in the stomach. Bent over, Fox rushed him and knocked Benno off balance so he stumbled closer toward the edge of the cliff.
Sydney realized Benno was still dazed and vulnerable. In his condition, he was no match for the other man. She had to get to him, to help him before it was too late. She couldn’t lose him now, for God’s sake.
She rushed forward, but Benno yelled, “Stay out of the way!”
Though she did as he ordered, she looked around for a makeshift weapon while the two men traded punches. Benno held his own until Fox rushed him again and with both fists closed hit him in the wounded arm. Benno whirled away from him, closer to the cliff’s edge. No weapon.
This was all her fault.
Desperate, Sydney acted on instinct. She grabbed the Tarot deck in her pocket.
Sliding it out, she shrieked, “Fox!” as she threw the pouch.
The deck caught him square in the chest, startling him. The cards flew up out of the opening and the wind tossed them in every direction. Sydney’s ploy worked. He hesitated long enough for Benno to get in one more punch, making Fox take a step backward.
His face a mask of surpise, Fox did a macabre dance and lost his balance. His feet went out from under him.
“Help me!” he yelled as his lower body shot over the side. He threw his chest forward and tried to grasp the smooth rock. He began to slide backward.
Without thinking, Sydney ran toward him and grabbed his wrist, unwilling to let another human die, not even one as rotten as he. Her mistake. In the blink of an eye, his fingers curled around her wrist.
“No!” Sydney cried, even as she fought for release. “Let go!”
But she was no match for a madman – her body shot forward.
The only thing that saved her was Benno grabbing onto her long skirts. Her view was dizzying. She could see the breakers crash against rock wall and spew a shattered curtain of water up at them.
“If I go, you go!” Fox yelled.
With his greater weight dragging at her, she could do nothing to save herself.
“Like hell,” Benno growled. Pinning her skirt to the ground with his knee, he got down beside her and anchored
an arm around her waist. “Pull yourself up, Fox. You aren’t taking anyone else with you.”
Their position was precarious. Sydney knew they could all go over. Fox made a futile attempt to raise himself, but his exhaustion was apparent as his grip began to slip.
“Try harder,” she urged, even as his fingers slid over hers.
“No-o-o!”
Fox was falling, no ledge to save him this time. His body bounced off the cliff face and like a broken rag doll flew into the mouth of a giant wave. Before it could toss him back to batter him against the cliff, she buried her head in Benno’s chest. He pulled her close and held her for a moment.
“Could anyone survive a fall like that?” she asked, deep shudders wracking her body.
“No.”
Closing her eyes, she fought tears. For a short while, she’d cared for this man, this villain, no matter how mistakenly. She would never forget that, or him. His death would remain imprinted in her mind always.
“Let’s get out of here.”
As Benno helped her to her feet, Sydney noticed a single Tarot card lay wedged in a crack near the edge. The others had undoubtedly been sucked up by the ocean just as Fox had. Sydney picked up the card and a chill swept through her as she stared at the picture: a woman holding a sword in one hand, scales in the other.
How could she not recognize Justice when she saw it?