Unearthed

Grabbing the low wall near the stairs, the man whipped around it and took the stairway down to the first floor. Two nurses shouted out in alarm and Michael felt certain security would be alerted. That suited him fine, although the guards he’d seen were all elderly gentlemen and didn’t look as if they’d put up much of a fight. He hoped that Paddington or one of Blackpool’s constables would be nearby. With all the work going on in the marina and the shipwreck discovery, extra men were on duty.

Losing his attacker at the first landing, Michael panicked for a moment till he made the corner and spotted the guy streaking for the front door. By the time the man reached it, Michael was closing the distance again.

The man burst through the door and ran outside into the small yard. Merciful Angels was only a couple blocks back of Main Street and fronted a residential area filled with small, old houses. The tiny visitors’ parking lot in front of the hospital was barely large enough to hold six vehicles. Both of the town’s ambulances sat at the emergency-room entrance.

The streets in Blackpool were small and narrow, built more for wagons and carts than sedans. The citizens got around on bicycles, mopeds and motorbikes. Very few had cars, and only a handful of businesses used delivery vans.

Up to full speed now, the fleeing man sped toward the parked cars. One of them was Aleister Crowe’s green Jaguar. Crowe stood to the side of the vehicle, talking on his mobile.

Another man stood near Crowe. He was about Crowe’s age and prim, dressed in a gunmetal-gray business suit with neatly coiffed blond hair and amber-tinted aviator sunglasses.

Drawing closer to his quarry, Michael launched himself forward and grabbed for the man’s feet. He succeeded in wrapping an arm around his knees and the two of them went down in a sprawl. Just before they hit the ground, Michael heard a sudden, harsh crack.

He knew immediately something was wrong. The man fell too loosely. Normally a person would tighten up a little even if he’d been trained professionally to fall.

Rolling to his feet, Michael kept one hand locked around the man’s ankle so he wouldn’t get away. One glance at the man assured him that wouldn’t be the case. A trickle of blood slid down his attacker’s cheek and dripped off his nose from a round wound on his temple.

Stunned, Michael couldn’t help but stare for a moment, then he ran for cover beside the cars.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” The man who had been standing with Crowe was now huddled beside him, holding his arms protectively over his head.

“Sniper.” Michael fumbled for his iPhone and got it out.

Crowe shifted, turning on his feet while remaining in a crouched position. “One sniper or more?”

Michael shook his head. “Don’t know.” He punched the speed dial for the Blackpool police station. Since he and Molly had started helping the police solve murders, he’d kept the number ready.

“Were they after you or the other man?” Crowe asked.

“Whoever shot him got his target.”

“Are you wounded?”

“I don’t think so.” The mobile began to ring while Michael patted himself down. “You’re bleeding.”

“Had a disagreement with that bloke before we turned it into a footrace.”

“Who was the dead man?”

“I have no idea.” Michael scanned the surrounding houses, wondering if the sniper was already moving into a more advantageous position.

Mercifully, his call was answered. “Blackpool police station. State the nature of your emergency.”

“This is Michael Graham. A man has just been shot dead at Merciful Angels. Ring DCI Paddington, would you?” He spoke much more calmly and rationally than he felt. What had the man been doing in Rohan Wallace’s room? How had Rohan left the man hanging? And who was after him? Had the sniper only been shooting at the dead man? Or was Michael a target, too?

CHAPTER FOUR

“HAVE YOU AND YOUR HUSBAND lived here long?”

Seated in the limousine’s plush backseat, Molly gazed at Blackpool with affection. “No, not long. We both came from big cities—Michael from London, and I grew up in Queens. We actually met in Los Angeles, if you can believe that, and we were torn about where to live. But when we saw Blackpool, we knew we had to live here. At least for a while.”

Nanny Myrie nodded. “So this is not where you’ll be putting down roots.”

Molly frowned a little at that and felt uncomfortable. “I don’t think ‘putting down roots’ is something either of us has thought about. Our adult lives have been so hectic, always running after one deadline or another, that we just wanted to slow things down for a while.”

“Have you?” Nanny peered at her expectantly.

“Slowed things down?”

“Yes.”

Thinking back over the past few months and the constant barrage of riddles, mysteries and murders that had complicated their lives, Molly shook her head. “Not really. But it hasn’t been for lack of trying.”

A knowing smile spread across Nanny’s face. “I’m afraid you may find that life doesn’t really slow down. Especially if you have a tendency toward adventure anyway.”

A siren swooped in from behind them.

Glancing back over her shoulder as Irwin discreetly pulled to the side, Molly watched in astonishment as one of the Blackpool police units roared past the limousine.

Nanny stiffened and stared anxiously after the departing police cruiser. “That vehicle seems to be heading in the same direction we are.”

“Yes, it does.” Molly opened her handbag and took out her iPhone. She punched Michael’s name and waited as panic stretched within her. All the horrible things she’d experienced over the past months came clamoring back. She willed Michael to answer his cell.

He picked up almost immediately, sounding tense. “Molly? Are you all right?”

“Yes. Why, has something happened?”

Michael’s sigh of relief was audible. “There’s been a bit of a skirmish at the hospital. Perhaps it would be better if you took Mrs. Myrie somewhere and waited till things calm down here.”

“I don’t think so.” Molly wasn’t going to do that until she saw for herself that Michael was healthy and in one piece.

“Then again, maybe you’re right. You might be safer here. Until we can figure out who the dead man is and why he was killed.”

“Mr. Graham.” Molly recognized the voice of DCI Paddington. He sounded irritated and officious. “It would be better if we didn’t go about announcing everything for the world to hear. The investigation might be less of a bother. We certainly have no end of lollygaggers and looky-loos standing about as it is.”

“Molly, I’m sure you’ve got a hundred questions, but the inspector’s beside himself. I love you.”

“I love you, too. We’ll be there in just a moment.”

Michael sighed. “I’ll be glad to see you, but I can’t speak for the inspector. Ta.”

Before Molly could say goodbye, Michael had broken the connection. She slid the phone back into her handbag.

“Something is wrong?” Nanny gazed at Molly with soulful eyes.

“Rohan’s situation hasn’t changed, but a man has been murdered. The inspector won’t let Michael say more than that.” Straining anxiously to look ahead, she saw the rooftop of Merciful Angels. In the next moment, she spotted the police cars surrounding the small parking area. Instant relief washed through her when she recognized Michael standing there.

IRWIN PARKED THE CAR AS CLOSE to the activity as he could, but Sergeant Luann Krebs and one of the temporary constables were putting up crime-scene tape to secure the area.