Chapter 4 #2
She gripped the seat, waiting for the last concussion that would plummet them into the dark river below.
Raymond held onto the steering wheel for dear life. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” She tried to reassure him, but her skin chilled with worry.
The truck drove on past and now returned with a vengeance. Roaring toward them like a predator, the truck bore down on them. Sascha felt her heart would jump out of her chest; it beat so hard.
“Here it comes!” Raymond hollered.
He needn’t have said a thing. She knew it was coming to finish what it had begun.
One final shove, that’s all it needed.
The pickup slammed into the limousine. The crippled vehicle tumbled off the bridge.
Gregory couldn’t quell the worry that ravished his mind.
If Sascha and Raymond were hurt by the maniac who was trying to kill him—well, he had to hope it wasn’t as bad as all that.
That it was only his imagination getting the best of him.
That Raymond’s phone was on the blink, and he’d had a flat tire.
But he knew it wasn’t so.
He’d already called the police, and they were sending a patrol car to check it out, but he couldn’t wait to hear back from them. The anxiety ate away at him. No way could he remain impotent at home. And he was probably closer to their location than the police were.
He only hoped he would find that they were all right and that paranoia was his only real enemy at the moment.
He headed out to the five-car garage to get in his car and learn what he could.
The limousine slammed into the river, bobbed around, and then began to sink. Now was the time to panic. Sascha unbuckled her belt as she heard Raymond click his open.
“Are you okay?” they said in unison.
“Yeah,” was the response from both.
Sascha climbed through the open privacy window into the front passenger seat. “Can you swim, Raymond?”
“Yeah, and you?”
“Yeah.” She took a deep breath as the water began to fill the car. “Let’s do it.”
She crawled out through the open window as river water poured into the car. Glad Raymond had opened the windows before they couldn’t be, she swam away from the vehicle.
“Raymond?” she called out, her long, flowing skirt tangled around her legs. The corset and bolero were fine, non-encumbering. But the skirt had so many layers that it was making it really difficult to swim.
She didn’t want to lose him now.
“Over here,” Raymond called out to her.
The truck idled on top of the bridge. That wasn’t good. The evil menace lurked in the dark, like a one-eyed monster—its other eye poked out by the limousine in its fight to the death. The driver of the truck likely wanted to see who survived the accident, gloating over his conquest.
The sound of Raymond splashing toward her made her stop and tread water so he could join her, since she was closer to the shore.
She figured they needed to stay in the water as long as they could so that whoever it was would have a harder time killing them.
She glanced at the bridge and was about to suggest swimming under it.
Then the truck barreled down the road away from the scene of the accident.
Sascha let out a sigh of relief.
Raymond touched her arm. “Are you okay?”
She appreciated that he was so concerned about her. “Yeah. Are you sure that you’re okay?”
“I think I have whiplash.”
“Can you make it to shore?”
“Yeah, now that the truck has left.”
Staying close to each other to make sure they didn’t lose one another, they swam to shore. After climbing out of the muddy river, she folded her arms. “Don’t tell me this is the creep who wants Gregory dead.”
She didn’t wait for an answer as Raymond tried to use his cell phone, and she started to walk toward her home.
“Wait up, Miss Lassiter,” he hollered after her. “We have to head in the other direction.”
After all that they had been through, she realized he was still wearing his chauffeur’s cap. Though it was as wet as the rest of him.
“Excuse me, but my home is this way.” She waved her hand in the general direction while she continued to walk, her skirts clinging to her legs, and she tripped twice, to her further annoyance.
Her bolero sleeves were glued to her arms. And she was cold even though the Texas nights could be hot in September, October even.
But the breeze and being drenched in the cooler water were the trouble.
“If you hadn’t noticed, I’m a little too wet to do any kind of entertaining for the night.” She quickened her pace.
“Ma’am, we’re a lot closer to Mr. Landry’s home. About five miles is all. We could easily make that within the hour, half an hour the way you’re moving along.”
She ignored him. He was sweet and funny, but he definitely had difficulty hearing or comprehending what she was saying.
His wet leather shoes squished as he ran to catch up to her. “My phone’s dead.”
“Figures.”
“Ma’am, we’ve got to go in the other direction.”
“Why didn’t he kill us?”
“What?” Raymond sounded thoroughly confused.
“The guy who ran us off the road. Why didn’t he finish us off?”
“I’m sure that when he realized Mr. Landry wasn’t in the car, he gave up on the impulse.”
“Great.” She reached up, gathered her wet curls together, and wrung them out.
A strong wind was blowing, and the air had chilled considerably, typical fall Texas weather.
Hot in the daytime; sometimes hot, sometimes chilly at night, especially when soaking wet.
Tonight, wouldn’t you know, it decided to be cooler.
She stopped, leaned over, and squeezed out her skirt.
“Miss Lassiter, please, we should head in the other direction.”
“Go. I’m not stopping you. You can pick up Mr. Landry’s money from me tomorrow. I can see now that three thousand dollars wasn’t enough money in the whole world to pay to entertain his friends and him.”
She stormed off toward her home again.
Raymond soon joined her.
“I don’t need the company.”
“I wouldn’t let you go alone.”
“Well, thanks. But I can take care of myself.” Especially if she stayed away from the target—Gregory.
“Yeah, well, you would do a better job of it if you would head the other way.”
After walking half a mile, headlights appeared from behind. She continued to walk, her chin jutted towards home, but Raymond glanced back. “Here’s our ride.”
Sascha turned and squinted her eyes. She’d never expected Gregory Landry to leave his party to rescue his driver and entertainer for the evening if that was who was driving the souped-up sports car. She crossed her arms and shivered in annoyance.
Gregory pulled his vehicle to a stop on the shoulder behind them, then rushed out of the car. “What happened?” he shouted, his long stride covering the distance between his driver’s seat and Sascha in an instant. Before she could say a word, he grabbed her arm and checked her over. “Are you okay?”
“Yah, yah, but I’m cold and wet.”
“And you’re hurt.” He pulled a blanket out of his car and wrapped it around her.
“How about you, Raymond?” Gregory hurried Sascha toward the passenger door to warm her up.
“He drove a red super cab pickup and rammed us before we made it across the bridge,” Raymond said as he climbed into the back of the car in the tiny half seat back there.
She balked. “I’m wet and muddy, and I’ll ruin the brand-new leather interior of your—”
“Get in,” Gregory demanded, his tone further irritating her. “I’m taking you home and having you both checked out.”
She shrugged. “It’s your car.”
After she climbed in, he slammed the door shut. “What in the hell were you walking in that direction for?” Gregory asked Raymond as he got into the driver’s seat.
“The lady intended to return home. I told her it was safer and quicker to go to your place instead, Mr. Landry.”
Gregory shook his head. Raymond’s knees were tucked under his chin.
“The police will need both your statements.”
“I told Raymond I would return the money. I’m fine, and I don’t need to see anyone.
I can talk to the police later. And though he didn’t say anything, Raymond suffered whiplash, no doubt.
” Then she wondered if the real reason Gregory wanted her at his home was so he could get his money’s worth from her to entertain his guests.
“You can’t seriously expect me to entertain your guests while wearing a coat of mud. ”
“You’re about Rose’s build. She’ll loan you some clothes.”
He handed his cell phone to Raymond. “Call the police and my insurance agent. And the guy who details my cars.” Then he whipped the car around and headed back to his house.
“Yes, Mr. Landry.”
Sascha gritted her teeth in an attempt to stop them from chattering. “I told you that I would return the money. After what I went through tonight, I’m not in any shape or mood to entertain.”
He took a deep breath, his brow furrowed. He shoved the heater onto high.
“Take me home.”
“No. I would be remiss in not having you checked out and getting the details of what happened to the police.”
As soon as he pulled into the circular drive of his home, Gregory climbed out of the car. Raymond hurried out of the backseat and rushed around to the passenger’s side, but Gregory opened Sascha’s door. She didn’t expect that. She suspected that was Raymond’s job.
Now she knew she should never have let greed get the best of her. Rich folks didn’t throw their money around lightly. She would earn her pay, every penny of it, whether she liked it or not.