THIRTEEN FOR DINNER

Chapter 39

Breathing a prayer, we unlatch the lock, push open the door and exit our secret hiding place. Closing it carefully, Emily takes extreme caution not to make a sound. We've decided to make our way to the pistols James keeps in a gun cabinet in the study. Emily admits she doesn't know how to shoot one, but I am pretty sure I can pull the trigger, as long as it's already loaded. Again, she's not sure he keeps them loaded, but it's worth a chance anyway. At least I can wave it around, acting like it is.

We creep past the cupola stairs and my heart drops when I think Quillan might be dead already. It's quiet and there is no glow from a lantern, only the moonlight fills the round room, radiating it's soft light on us as we sneak by.

We make it to the staircase and I breathe a sigh of relief, for some reason, I feel much safer on the second floor. Running down, we take the corner, my skirt flares out again, only this time I'm not having fun. I'm running for my life. The clock strikes eleven, only an hour left before my departure and the bludgeoning of the Faulkner family.

Anxious to retrieve a weapon, we burst into the study only to find it already ransacked and the gun cabinet empty.

"Lookin' for somethin'?" Jimmy's voice comes from the darkness. The door slams shut behind us, and Slimy steps in front of it. "Well look who came to visit." He sneers walking toward us.

Grabbing Emily's hand I back toward the bookcase.

"Where's Lunar?" she demands.

"That Negro is poised and ready for execution," Slimy says, puffing on an expensive cigar he found. "He's just waiting for his audience. What do you say we take that trip back upstairs so you can get a good look at what happens to Negroes who go after our pretty white women?"

We keep retreating toward the bookcase, but Jimmy comes around behind us. We're surrounded. "Let's go have some fun, rice princess," Slimy says snuffing out his cigar and grabbing Emily, pulling her away from me. "And you," he says, shaking his head in disappointment. "You're proving to be far too much trouble than you're worth. Jimmy, do what you want with this one." Covering Emily's mouth, he pulls her through the bookcase and into the secret passage.

Jimmy grins a manic smile and walks towards me. "Are you the one who took Leonard's head off?" he asks, raising the harvesting sickle into the air. I swallow hard and my palms begin sweating profusely. Now I know how James Faulkner and his guest were dismembered.

"You're pretty when you're scared," he says, eyeing my heaving chest. I am breathing hard I know, because I am scared as hell right now. Backing up against the bookcase, I reach behind me and grab a candlestick. Using it like a bat, I swing for a home run, sending him sprawling. Stunned, he stumbles backwards, dropping the grim reapers knife as he falls. Taking my chance, I bolt for the door, but he reaches out and grabs my ankle. I hit the floor hard, knocking the wind from my lungs. Keeping his hand tight around my ankle, he yanks, pulling me closer to him. Flipping me over, he pounces on top of me, snatching my hair and pulling my head back. Blood pours from his wound, into my face. He grabs my mouth, squeezes it open and crams his tongue inside. I bite down as hard as I can. He moans and pulls it out, hitting me, angry that I am trying to defend myself. What did the dumb ass expect would happen? Keeping his heavy body on top of mine, he looks around the room and then reaches for a velvet cord that holds back the curtains. Yanking it, he rips it from the drapes. I start kicking and screaming, and I can see my actions have him panicked. Not sure what to do first, cover my mouth or tie my hands, he decides to stop my screaming until he can retrieve his hanky. Laying the cord aside he places one hand over my mouth and then raising up slightly, he digs the other hand into his pants pocket. When he does, I take my chance. In one swift move, I grab the smooth wooden handle I see sticking out of his belt, aim, and pull the trigger. It was loaded, and Jimmy's dead with a bullet to the gut.