Cat On The Scent

56

In the west an inferno illuminated the sky, the spring sun setting in a scarlet blaze. The sky, as though put to the torch, exploded in scarlet and gold.

Cynthia noticed the drama of it as she checked her service revolver. Rick, his mouth a straight line, carefully coasted down the road toward Tally Urquhart's haybarn, where Tommy Van Allen's plane was stowed.

He'd stopped at Miss Tally's to inquire if she'd seen Archie. She said he was renting a room in her house while he fixed up an old farmworker's stone house down the farm road.

When Cynthia inquired as to how they'd get along, Tally curtly replied, “I need somebody to fight with.”

Rick ordered her to stay in her house. She said she had seen Archie's white Land Rover go back there a while ago. She'd heard another car not ten minutes ago but she didn't get to the window in time to see it. However, she was sure it was another car going in, not one coming out.

Rick was no sooner out her front door than Tally phoned Mim.

“Boss, should we wait for backup?”

“No time. God, I hate these kinds of things.” Like all police officers, Rick knew domestic violence to be the most irrational of situations. Armed robbery was easy compared to this.

After speeding down the old farm road toward the haybarn, Rick cut the motor at a curve out of sight from the barn door. Both cops got out, drew their guns, and slowly walked toward the old barn, which they could not yet see. Before they rounded the curve they heard a curse, two shots, and a scream. They ran but with practiced caution.

As the two officers approached the barn doors they saw Sir H. Vane-Tempest bent over Archie Ingram. Sarah was clinging to her husband.

“Freeze!” Rick commanded.

Vane-Tempest spun around, a .357 in his right hand.

“Drop your weapon,” Rick ordered, and Vane-Tempest threw the gun on the ground.

Rick kept his gun on the Englishman while Cynthia ran over to Archie. She pressed her index finger into his neck.

“Gone.”

“He tried to kill me after abducting my wife,” Vane-Tempest said calmly.

Sarah, sobbing, stood between her husband and her lover.

“Have you anything to say?” Cynthia stood up, facing Sarah.

“Sarah, you have the legal right to remain silent,” Vane-Tempest forcefully said. “This has been a dreadful situation. You take a deep breath. You're safe now.”

“Am I?” She put her face in her hands.

“Put your hands behind your back, sir.”

“Rick, I killed him in self-defense. You're making a mistake.”

“That may be true, but for right now, the handcuffs go on.” Rick snapped the steel bracelets on quickly.

“Don't handcuff him. He had no choice.” Sarah wiped her eyes. “Archie abducted me from our home after locking H. in my closet.”

“Why would he do that?” Rick put his gun in its holster.

“Because I was having an affair with him. He wanted us to ride off into the sunset together.” She didn't realize the irony of her words as the gorgeous sunset deepened.

“You knew about this?” Cynthia directed this to the handcuffed Sir H. Vane-Tempest.

“I did. Yes.”

“Oh, H., I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never thought he'd try to kill you.” She walked over to her husband and threw her arms around his neck.

“I'm an old man. You're a young and beautiful woman. Maybe one of the most beautiful women on the face of the earth,” he whispered.

Another squad car pulled up along with the Crozet Rescue Squad. Diana Robb had had a busy day.

Rick motioned to his officers to go slow, then he put his hand under Vane-Tempest's elbow. “Let's go down to HQ.”

“May I phone my lawyer?”

“When we get there.”

“Do I have to wear these?”

“Until we get to the station, you do. Come on, before the goddamned television crews get out here.” That made the old man pick up his feet.

Sarah slid into the backseat next to her husband. She never looked backward at Archie, sprawled on the ground, her snub-nosed .38 in his right hand.