Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls #1)(91)

The first notes of Julia’s music floated over the PA system, and Ellie turned her attention to her daughter, waving as Julia skated to center ice and positioned herself. She glided through her moves with the grace expected of her ability and level. Ellie held her breath as Julia poised for a single axel, the hardest move in her routine. She hadn’t practiced much this week, and Kate’s death had obviously dampened her enthusiasm for the sport. She leaped and twirled, landing with only a slight bobble.

Ellie exhaled.

Julia finished her routine with a spin and the biggest smile she’d worn since Kate and Lee had been killed. Maybe everything was going to be all right. Corey was in custody. Surely, the police would find Donnie soon. Ellie went to the rink exit and waited for Julia to step off the ice.

“Nice work!” She wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

Julia paused, her eyes searching the bench next to the exit. “Do you have my blade guards?”

“No.”

“Someone must have taken them,” Julia frowned.

“We’ll get a new pair tomorrow.”

“Beautiful routine, Julia.” Victor walked by. “I’m keeping my eye on you.”

“I even landed the axel.” Julia grinned at Ellie, then sobered. “It’s a shame Mrs. Barrett isn’t here. Do you think she can see me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Ellie sighed.

“It would be nice to think she was still watching over me.” Julia clomped across the cement.

“It would.” Ellie followed her to the locker room. Usually she waited outside, but not tonight. She wasn’t leaving Julia alone for a second until Donnie was caught. They walked through the doorway into a cinder block hallway that led to the locker rooms.

Josh Winslow followed them into the corridor. He caught Ellie by the arm. Her pulse spiked. Julia disappeared inside.

Ellie jerked her arm away. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Your daughter looked good on the ice tonight, but remember she’s not advanced team material.” Josh leaned close enough that she could smell alcohol on his breath. “You know that, right?”

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Ellie pushed at his chest. “Back off.”

He sneered. “Just so you don’t think that little priss of yours is any competition for my daughter.”

Oh, my God. Could Josh be involved too? He and Corey were tight. Fear pulsed through her as she took in the animosity shining from his eyes.

“They are kids. It’s ice-skating. Get some perspective.”

“Now that Kate’s gone, Julia won’t get any more preferential treatment.”

“What are you talking about?” Ellie tugged at her arm, but Josh tightened his grip on her bicep. “Julia likes skating, but it’s a fun hobby for her. That’s it. She’s several levels below Autumn. What is your problem?”

“Just as long as we’re clear that she’s never going to be competition for Autumn.”

“You have issues. Now let go of me.” Ellie pushed against his windpipe with her fingertips.

He gagged and staggered backward.

Ellie stepped back and looked down the empty corridor. The insulated door between the locker room hallway and the rink was closed.

One hand clutched his throat. Josh moved closer, backing Ellie against the wall. “You bitch.”



Grant looked down at Donnie. His face was a bloody pulp. His eyes were closed, his breathing ragged and wet. How many times had Grant hit him? The thug probably wasn’t getting up anytime soon, which was good because Grant didn’t have time to restrain him.

He levered his body up and off Donnie. Racing for the house, Grant followed the barking through the thick black smoke. He dropped to the floor and belly-crawled under the worst of it. Hannah was in front of him, on her knees, trying to drag Nan toward the back door. Unwilling to leave without her humans, AnnaBelle barked beside them.

“Go. I got her.” Grant pointed toward the exit in case his sister couldn’t hear him over the roar of the fire.

Hannah lunged for the dog, grabbed her collar, and stumbled toward the exit. Grant picked up Nan and followed them out.

They lurched for the next yard. Sirens wailed in the street. Red lights swirled and flashed.

McNamara ran toward them between the houses.

Grant laid Nan down on the grass. Her bloodshot eyes opened, and she coughed. Relieved that she was awake, Grant stood. A paramedic dropped to his knees beside her, an oxygen mask already in his hand. Grant backed away and almost tripped over Donnie’s still form. He glanced down. The killer’s face was hamburger.

A soot-streaked Hannah was helping Carson out of the van. Sobbing, the boy ran to Grant, who picked him up, turning his face away from the beaten man on the ground. Oh God. Had Carson seen Grant beat Donnie?

McNamara put his hands on his hips. His gaze swept over the ragged bunch, paused on Hannah for a heartbeat, then settled on Grant, as if he’d just identified the guilty party. Hannah had the baby out of the car and was holding her close. Red-faced, Faith hiccuped into her shoulder.

“Is that Donnie?” McNamara asked.

“Yes.” Grant met the cop’s frustrated gaze. With a nod to the now quiet, but still trembling child, Grant made it clear he wasn’t answering any more questions until Carson was out of earshot.