Page 104 of The Most Wonderful Crime of the Year
Ethan shifted but he never took his gaze off Dobson. “Someone who had to walk cross-country over rough terrain in high wind and blinding snow.”
“In the dark,” Maggie added.
“Right! Totally dark. Hard to see. Easy to, I don’t know... sprain an ankle.”
Dobson muttered and sputtered and finally settled on, “Of course I turned my bloody ankle walking in that blasted snow. I told you!”
“You did,” Ethan conceded. “In fact, you said you did it minutes before you arrived, but your ankle was already swollen and bruised by the time we met with you in the library. No ankle is that color purple within minutes. No. You sprained itat least twelve hours before we saw it, Inspector.”
“You sprained it while you were walking to the little cottage where you spent the night and, I’m guessing, left behind a newspaper and a whole lot of fingerprints.”
“You sprained it before you snuck in and stole a rifle from this house. You sprained it before you took those shots, then walked cross-country back to your car, then down the road as if you’d just driven in from town that morning.” Ethan folded his arms over his chest, bigger and stronger and oh-so-slightly smug.
“You sprained it before you knew Eleanor was missing and shot at the wrong people in the maze,” Maggie finished.
For a moment, Dobson just sat there, chest heaving like he was trying to draw in enough air to blow the whole house down. “What about last night?” He pointed at the foursome who had been in the card game. “If they have an alibi for last night, then so do I!”
“Do you?” Ethan’s words were a question but his eyes were a dare. “Or did you tie Maggie up in the greenhouse, then come in and throw on a robe and towel and act like you’d been in the shower?” Ethan laughed, then reached down for the teacup. “So what do you say, Inspector? Give it a sip?”
It happened in a flash. One second, Maggie was thinking that they’d made a good case and had a good theory but it would never hold up in court; the next, the teacup was flying through the air, scalding liquid arcing across the room. Ethan lunged, knocking Maggie out of the way, and she landed on the sofa—on top of Kitty and tangled in her knitting.
But just as quickly, a big hand grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. Dobson had an arm around her neck. The handle of Eleanor’s second-favorite walking stick pressed into her throat as he gripped it with one hand.
She heard aclickand felt cold metal against her temple. That’s when she realized he held a small handgun in the other.
“Hey, now,” Ethan said. “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret.”
“You’re forty years too late, Wyatt. NowI’m walking out of here.” Maggie was his cane at that point, and he leaned against her as they inched toward the door. “I’m going to help myself to His Grace’s vehicle. The phones will work eventually, then you can feel free to call for help, but I’ll be gone.”
“The bridge is out,” Maggie reminded him, but she could almost feel him smile as he slowly shook his head.
“You mean we’ve been stuck here for nothing!” Dr. Charles sounded like that was the real tragedy of the situation, but Dobson was already dragging Maggie toward the doors.
“Maggie...” Ethan started.
But she was looking around the room, doing the math. It didn’t matter how many shots Dobson had, he wouldn’t miss. Not at that range. No one could miss at that range.
“I’m okay.” And, amazingly, she was. The world was calm and quiet. It was like the faster things happened, the slower everything felt. Like she was watching the scene from a great height. Like she could see all the odds and play the angles. Like she could still win.
Like she was Eleanor.
“We should go through the gardens,” Maggie said flatly. “It’s faster.”
“So helpful, Ms. Chase.”
“No. I just want you out of here.”
She felt his weight. He was still unsteady on his feet. If she could just get in the open. If she could run... But as soon as they stepped out into the deep snow, she felt less certain.
“The garage is—”
“I know where the garage is! I’ve been coming here for forty years!”
“Okay,” she said calmly. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Sixty-Four
Ethan
