Chapter 29: All Choked Up

No matter how much you cry and plead, there’s no white knight. When it comes down to saving your life, no one does it like yourself.

I’m lying here thinking about all the things that happened in the past twenty-four hours and every time I take a breath, I exhale tears of fright and exhaustion. I’ve been shaking all night and haven’t really slept soundly. Those fits of sleep I get are filled with the most horrid, grotesque dreams I have ever had.

Someday my prince will come

It took more than an hour to transfer the video to my computer and upload it to a secure website. I tried to call Tom, but there was no answer on his phone. If he was on a stakeout, he probably had the sound and vibration turned off on his cell phone. I sent him a text message with the password to the website and a link, then sent another saying “Evidence of Georgia McFearin’s murder is on her TIVO”.

I needed to get out of the house before people—like my landlady—started waking up and looking to see if I was still locked in the office. I packed my computer bag and grabbed the key to the Mercedes in the garage. That was when I heard the front door open.

People shouldn’t just be opening my front door and walking in at five in the morning. I sent another text message, this time to both Tom and Cinnamon. All I could tap out was, “SOS. At the house. Bring help!” I hoped they’d get the message before it was too late but I couldn’t risk it. I needed to get out before whoever it was came farther into the house. I opened the office door a crack. I could hear a noise in the living room, so I slipped out and turned toward the kitchen door. I only took a step when a whack on the back of my head made me crumple to the floor.

I woke up with a tightness in my throat. Part of it was panic. I’d seen how Georgia died and the breeze on my bare skin told me the ceiling fan was on. The rope was already tightening on my neck. I grabbed and clawed enough space between the silky cord and my throat to slip a hand in but it was already too tight to pull up over my head. And there in the doorway to the dining room I could see the three of them—Deon, Rick, and Susan.

“That’s a fine mess you’re in, Riley Finn,” Rick said. You could hear the contempt dripping in his voice. I heard a click and the fan ground to a halt.

“You’re mistaken,” I said. “I’m Peg...” I suddenly realized that the twisting rope wasn’t my only problem. I was stark naked without even a wig. You could clearly see where my applied older skin met my natural younger skin. I was completely unmasked.

“I’m a PI,” Deon said. “I can find out who anyone is.”

“Especially when he sees you in the dark,” Rick said. “Your disguise might throw anyone off who can see you, but your voice sounds too familiar when you can’t distract a person’s eyes.”

“I called the little cabin owner on Whidbey Island. They were only too happy to confirm that my daughter got there safely this weekend. No fifty-year-old woman had checked in. No fifty-year-old woman has menstrual cramps like you were having.”

“No more talk,” Rick said. I could hear sirens in the distance but I couldn’t tell if they were coming this direction. Please, Tom, get here now! “Finish it. We’ve got to get out of here.” The switch on the fan clicked and I could feel the rope tightening. The sirens were definitely getting closer.

“Thank you for my car key,” Deon said. The three headed out through the kitchen. I had a fleeting satisfaction to see Deon was limping on the leg I kicked out from under him in Vegas.

My one hand wedged between the rope and my neck wasn’t going to save my life. The rope was already cutting off the circulation on the other side and was biting into the back of my hand, pressing it against my windpipe. I could feel my tongue swelling. I thrashed around trying to reach the wall switch but the rope was too short for that. I looked frantically for anything I could use to save me.

I had a sudden, purple-tinged vision of Georgia throwing the key to the Mercedes into a glass of champagne. What was she trying to do besides ruin Deon’s chances of getting away? The glass of water I was drinking while watching the recordings last night was sitting, half full, on the coffee table. It was my only chance. I kicked it toward the television and watched it splash all over the place, including a precious few drops that fell into the power strip. There was a loud pop and the lights went out. The fan stopped moving. I started moving. Spinning in the direction the fan had turned, loosening the tightness of the rope. I had to keep spinning and spinning. If I passed out, the rope was still short enough to hang me. I heard the squeal of tires. Saw the flashing lights. I just kept spinning and spinning until the rope loosened enough that I could breathe. I was fighting for oxygen when the front door crashed in.

“Knife!” I heard the command, but couldn’t see. I felt someone pulling on the rope and for a moment felt panic that they were tightening it. In a second, it fell away completely. I pointed with my free hand, still unwilling to move the left hand from protecting my throat.

“Out the back. Car in garage,” I croaked. I saw two uniforms head for the kitchen, then a deafening explosion rocked the house from the back. I was being carried, lifted by an amazing hunk of a man onto the sofa.

“Blankets!” he yelled. His coat was already flung over my naked body. Tears streamed down my cheeks. This was not how I wanted him to see me naked for the first time. I could hear the crackling of police radios and more sirens. Ambulance and fire rescue. Tom continued to yell terse commands while never leaving my side. “TIVO! Get every computer in this house unplugged and into the van.” I felt the warmth of blankets being placed over me. I looked up at Tom from under the protective layers and raised my hand from my throat to his cheek.

“A minute sooner and you could have saved my life,” I croaked. I don’t know why I said that. I wanted so much for him to rescue me, but I’d already cut the power and loosened the rope before he got there. If I’d waited for him, I’d be dead.