know you’re in there,” Swan’s voice roared through the door. “Let me in or you’ll all be sorry.”
“Oh dear.” Lady Hamilton clasped a hand to her chest as Lenore gasped and dodged behind her, using the woman as a shield. “Is that Mr. Swan?”
Her question was answered as Swan kicked at Phin’s door, splintering the doorframe around the lock and throwing the door itself open. Phin spotted the neighbor’s son dashing away, which must have been the source of the confrontation. There was no time to think about it, though. Swan barged into the hall, drawing a revolver from his side.
“Where is my wife?” he growled, waving his gun, eyes mad with fury.
Chapter 20
Lenore felt like a coward and a fool for jumping behind Lady Hamilton as Bart made his entrance. Her one saving grace was that she recovered quickly, bolstered by the confidence Phin had shown in her and the fact that they were in his house, on his ground.
Her burst of renewed courage helped considerably when Lady Hamilton shrieked at the top of her lungs and twisted to grab Lenore and thrust her forward like a shield when Bart drew his gun.
“Oh, dear God, he’s going to kill me,” Lady Hamilton screamed.
As soon as Bart noticed Lenore, his eyes narrowed with hatred, his nostrils flared, and he showed his teeth in a vicious grimace. He turned his gun on her. “You fooled me once by running out on me at that hotel in Laramie,” he hissed. “You fooled me twice by getting away again. Well, you’re not getting away this time, sweetheart.”
Bart pulled back the hammer of his revolver. Lenore had less than a second to shove Lady Hamilton to the side before he fired. The wood paneling of Phin’s wall splintered as a bullet struck at point blank range. Lady Hamilton screamed even louder, throwing her hands up over her head and tearing down the hall. She ducked into the nearest parlor before Lenore could regain her balance.
Bart took aim again, but before Lenore could move, Det. Gleason threw himself toward Bart. The gun went off, but the bullet shot straight into the ceiling, raining plaster down on them. Lenore didn’t have time to lunge toward Phin or even to breathe. She could only watch as short, slight Det. Gleason grabbed Bart’s right arm and twisted it behind his back, then kept moving in such a way that Bart dropped face down to the floor with a resounding thump. A moment later, Det. Gleason had his foot planted in the center of Bart’s back and Bart’s arm yanked up at a sickening angle behind him while Bart screamed in pain. His gun skittered across the floor, coming to rest by the baseboard near the door.
Phin hissed a curse that would have curled Lenore’s hair, if it weren’t already standing on end after the confrontation they’d just been through. “Good job, Gleason,” he exclaimed before striding to Lenore to pull her into his arms.
Lenore went willingly, letting out a strangled sigh of relief and squeezing Phin so tight she wasn’t sure she would ever let go. Bart wasn’t done fighting, though.
“Get off of me!” he shouted, writhing and kicking as though he could use what he surely thought was his superior strength to buck Gleason off. “I’ll kill you, you lily-livered limey.”
“Do you really want to go at it with me?” Gleason asked in a surprisingly dark voice, teeth bared, almost as if he wanted Bart to challenge him.
“I’ll rip your puny little head off,” Bart growled in reply.
“You think so?”
Gleason followed up his question by jerking Bart’s arm to the side, making it pop in a way that had Bart hollering once more as he rolled to his side. From there, Gleason kicked him the rest of the way to his back, then dove toward him. He moved so fast that Lenore couldn’t quite follow what he was doing, but judging by the way Bart cried and doubled up, Gleason landed a knee in Bart’s groin before straddling him, his hands at Bart’s throat.
Bart went silent, his eyes and his mouth wide open. Slowly, he started to turn red. He was twice as big as Gleason and built like an ox, but the lithe and apparently dangerous detective watched with cool impassivity as Bart’s face went from red to blue. Lenore was so impressed with Det. Gleason’s agility that she didn’t bother pointing out that he was in danger of killing Bart.
Det. Gleason seemed to know just