The Lady Has a Past (Burning Cove #5) - Amanda Quick Page 0,80

fire.”

“What’s wrong with Joe?” Billingsley said.

“I think she hit him with a picture frame.” Pete started down the stairs, his movements hampered by his burden. “Let’s move. This house is old. A lot of the wood is rotten.”

“Leave Joe,” Billingsley ordered. “Get the woman.”

“What?” Pete looked confused. “Why? She’s the one who set the fire.”

“She’s our ticket out of town if someone tries to stop us,” Billingsley said. He motioned at Raina. “Get down here. Move or I’ll kill you where you are and leave you behind with Joe. In fact, now that I think about it, maybe killing you here and now is the best way out of this thing. The fire will take care of your body. They might never find it, and if they do, they won’t be able to identify you.”

“Wait, don’t shoot her, not yet,” Pete yelped. “You might hit me.”

There was a thump on the stairs. Raina glanced back and saw that Pete had abandoned Joe and was leaping down the stairs to get to the bottom before Billingsley pulled the trigger.

Even if she reversed course and made her way back up the stairs, she would be trapped by the fire.

That left only one reasonable option. She would try to fake a stumble at the bottom of the stairs. If she managed to collide with Billingsley, she might get another chance to get out the front door.

“Don’t shoot,” she said. “I’m coming down.”

“Hurry,” Billingsley snapped. “You’ll live as long as you cooperate.”

Pete plunged past Raina. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he headed toward the front door. Billingsley ignored him. He motioned with the gun.

“Move, you stupid woman,” he roared.

Luther spoke from the shadows of the downstairs hall beneath the stairs.

“Freeze, Billingsley. You might live, but only if you drop the pistol.”

“Fuck.” Billingsley whirled toward the sound of Luther’s voice and fired three shots in rapid succession.

A single shot came from the shadows of the hallway. Billingsley jerked violently. He stared down at the bloodstain that was blossoming on the front of his shirt, stupefied.

“Who?” he said. He sank to his knees. The gun clattered on the floor. “Fuck. You’re Pell.”

“Yes.” Luther walked out of the shadows and kicked the gun aside. “You took the wrong woman, Billingsley.”

“Guppy warned me you were dangerous. Didn’t believe her. Told her . . . told her you were just a small-time crime boss.”

Blood gushed out of Billingsley’s mouth. He fell facedown at the foot of the stairs.

Luther looked up at Raina. His eyes burned with a cold fire.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes.” She gripped the railing with both hands to steady herself. “I’m okay.”

Simon appeared in the doorway. He was not alone. He had Pete. There was a lot of blood on Pete’s face.

“What happened to him?” Luther asked.

“Fell over a briefcase,” Simon said.

Lyra rushed up to peer over Simon’s shoulder.

“I heard shots,” Lyra said. “Looks like everyone I care about is still standing, so let’s get out of here. In case you hadn’t noticed, this house is on fire and the flames are spreading fast.”

“Get out of here,” Luther said to Raina. He crouched and started unfastening Billingsley’s shirt. “Simon and I will handle this.”

“Right.”

Raina went down the rest of the stairs on trembling legs.

By the time she got to the bottom, Luther had the dead man’s shirt off. Her first thought was that he was trying to determine if Billingsley was still alive. Then she realized he was studying a mark on Billingsley’s upper chest.

“He had a birthmark?” she said. “Is that important?”

“Very important. Go with Lyra and get the car. Simon and I will haul these three out of here.”

“They’re not worth bothering with,” Raina said.

“They have information,” Luther said.

“Including the dead man?”

“Sometimes the dead tell the most interesting stories.”

Chapter 38

Billingsley’s suite was on the third floor. It was easy to identify. In addition to the Private sign on the door, the lock was more impressive than those on the guest suite doors.

And then there was the unwholesome energy radiating from the door handle. Simon grimaced and jerked his hand off the metal knob.

“Bad?” Luther asked.

“Very.”

“Let’s move. It won’t be long before the police get here. If they find those blackmail photos there won’t be any way to keep them from falling into the wrong hands. Someone will realize they are worth a fortune.”

Simon shoved the key they had found in Billingsley’s pocket into the lock.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Raina is a witness with a story to tell and Lyra has