Chirp(92)

“I’m not going to hurt you, so stop kicking and get in the car.”

Rance ran forward and tackled them, knocking the pair away from the vehicle. Tony released Chirp and concentrated on Rance, throwing three quick punches, failing to connect with any of them. Rance weaved and bobbed, then answered with a blow to his opponent’s jaw. As Tony drew back for another go at Rance, Chirp came from the end of the porch, shovel in hand. She raised the spade and bashed Tony’s head, dropping him in his tracks.

“Oh good God, do I have to do everything for myself?” Marla yelled from the porch.

Chirp’s eyes went wide, and Rance followed her gaze in time to see the queen bitch point a gun and fire. Rance’s hand flew to his shoulder as the bullet made contact. Stunned for a moment, he lost sight of Marla. She was halfway to Chirp when he spotted her. Then he ran full charge. She turned and pointed the weapon. Just as he reached her, she squeezed off another round, shattering a flower pot on the porch before he wrestled the pistol away.

“Oh my God! She shot you!” Shovel still in hand, Chirp rushed to help, but by the time she got to them, Rance had Marla in control.

“I’m okay. Small-caliber mouse shooter couldn’t do much damage.”

Seth’s car came to a screeching stop, and he and Hanna jumped out to join the fray. Hanna removed her scarf, and Rance tied Marla’s wrists. She glared at Chirp. “Believe me, you’ll regret marrying this man. He’ll take you for everything you’re worth, and you’ll end up with nothing.”

Rance wiped blood from his wound. “That’s a prediction that won’t come true, but here’s one that will. You’re about to get a free membership in a new kind of country club.”

“You idiot. Who do you think the cops will believe? An upstanding widow who donates time and money to a multitude of worthy causes, or a worthless ex-con? I’ll say you attacked me. Frank and Tony will back me up. Your only corroboration is from a runaway who has been lying about everything for three years. So good luck with that.”

Rance pulled the cell from his pocket and wiggled it in the air. “Don’t think so. I recorded our entire conversation. There’s enough on here to prove everything I have to say to the cops.”

Seth came from inside. “That guy is still out cold, but I tied him up, anyway.”

“Yeah, and after I called 911, Wren and I took care of the other one,” Hanna said. “She held him down with the shovel, and I used a piece of rope from the shed to bind him. Good Lord, my hands are still shaking.”

Seth wrapped his arm around Hanna.

As sirens blared down the road, Chirp looked up at Rance. “We’ll postpone our honeymoon.”

“No, we won’t.” He glanced at the blood spot on his shirt. “I’ll get this taken care of, and then we’ll leave.”

“Are you sure?”

“Damn straight. Oh, and one more thing.” He stood, scooped her up and into his arms. “I still need to carry you over the threshold” He pushed the door open with his foot and walked inside.

“Did you really sign a prenup?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. That’s why I did it. I love you, Chirp. Always will. But remind me to never get you mad when you have a shovel handy.”





Epilogue


Wren got off the elevator and stepped into the foyer of the penthouse located two floors above Montgomery Steel’s executive offices. She and Rance lived here during the week, but returned to Bluebird each weekend. So far the arrangement worked.

She’d hired a decorator to change the interior from contemporary to farmhouse country, so he’d feel more at home. The style suited her as much as it did him. She planned a courtyard garden for next summer. He’d laughed when she told him she intended to grow tomatoes and peppers. He’d suggested throwing in zinnias for good measure, and she’d taken him up on it, even though she knew he was being sarcastic.

Muttly lunged from the sofa and came to her. She leaned down and petted him, then eyed the crate against the wall. The artwork from Odette’s had arrived.

Lighted candles on every table bathed the room in a warm glow. She read the note stuck to the mirror. I’ll clean the rose petals up later. For now, follow the path. So she did. From the entry, down the hallway, into the master suite. A bottle of champagne chilled in a silver bucket. Soft music played on a Pill speaker. A printed Happy Birthday banner hung across the headboard. Rance was nowhere in sight, but the light in the bathroom was on.

“Rance?”

“Hey, babe. Take your shoes off, prop yourself against all those bed pillows, and let me know when you’re done.”

She didn’t know what he had planned, but whatever it was, no doubt she’d like it. “I see my paintings arrived.”

“Yeah, and don’t get any bright ideas about hanging the diddle-skittle. We’re hauling it to the farm for a bonfire.”

“We’ll talk about it.”

“No! We won’t. I told you, it’s got to go.”

“We’ll talk about it.”

“Not going to argue with you on your birthday. So are you ready yet?” Rance asked.

She got comfortable and settled the dog next to her. “Yes.”