An Unsinkable Love - By Terri Benson Page 0,81
the Mercer's engine then crept back to the garage, crawling in through the opening Malcolm had made. He savagely kicked the body at the base of the stairs, cursing the interfering sailor for ruining his chance to kill his stepson. Upstairs, Eldon ripped the sheets off the bed and tore them into bandages which he gingerly wrapped around his torso. Back downstairs, he opened the boot on the Pierce Arrow and removed a small valise, changing into a clean shirt. He'd packed a few articles of clothing in case he had to lie low until he forced Malcolm to pay a ransom for his lovely fiancée—not that he would have given her back. Eldon's face contorted with anger. The whelp and his red-headed bitch had ruined everything! First Elizabeth, now the two of them, had thwarted his plans.
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The pain in his stomach was nothing compared to the burning rage flowing through him like lava. He climbed into the car and backed it right through the doors. The rusty hinges gave way with a wrenching screech. The rotted wood shattered and flew in all directions. Eldon knew the glossy shine of the car would be destroyed, but he was past caring.
He stopped long enough to splash petrol from his spare can around the garage and over the body. Standing at the door, he flicked a match and threw it, jerking back as the vapors exploded. Backing down the alley, he could already see flames licking hungrily up the walls.
A quarter of an hour later, he eased the Arrow off the main road and down an old wagon trail meandering through the forest at the back of the DuMont estate. The moon had dropped below the horizon leaving the night dark as ink. The track was familiar—he'd used it for frequent hunting excursions—so he didn't need headlamps. "Tonight I'll be doing a different kind of hunting," he muttered. Eldon recalled the last time he'd pursued Malcolm through the woods. It was sheer luck he'd spotted the horse and rider on the river trail.
It was sheer bad luck he'd been unsuccessful in killing the hotheaded pup then. Now he had the chance to rectify the situation.
The fenders of the car were mangled by the time Eldon coasted to a halt. Brightly lit windows glowed in the distance.
There weren't any cars visible on the curved drive, and he assumed the party guests had left. The journey from town had given him time to think over his options. As usual, he'd managed to come up with a plan to get out of trouble. Of the 261
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people who could bring him to grief, three were dead—never to talk again. The other three were there, in the house. If he disposed of Elizabeth, Malcolm and, sadly, the lovely Bridget, and without Eleanor, Carlisle and the Titanic crewman, there would be no one to stand witness against him. He would have more money than anyone else in the state. He would be untouchable.
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Chapter 44
Malcolm sat next to Bree, their thighs pressed tightly together, one arm pulling her close, his other hand entwined with hers. She still suffered bouts of tremors and he had no intention of letting her out of his sight any time soon.
Elizabeth sat across from them in her favorite wing back chair. A thick-set, stately man stood in a protective stance behind his mother, a proprietary hand on the back of the chair, near her cheek.
"I can't believe Eldon would do all this." Elizabeth shook her head. "How could I not see the evil in his soul? I must be the thickest..."
"No, Mother. None of us realized how deranged and dangerous he's become. He's very good at masking what he really is," Malcolm said.
Chief Fletcher spoke up, "I've got every man on the force out searching for him. He can't get far if he's injured."
"Thank you, Ernie. I hope you warned them not to take Eldon for granted. If he can't talk his way out of this, he won't hesitate to kill, especially if he's cornered," Malcolm cautioned.
Chief Fletcher looked back at him grimly. "I gave them orders to shoot if needed. They're also not to go out alone.
We're all a tad jumpy. Things like this don't happen much around here. Except for Madame Zubrinsky's place, there ain't much crime around here. Beggin' your pardon, Elizabeth." He blushed to the roots of his gray-brown hair.
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"Oh,