Stephanie Grace Whitson - [Quilt Chronicles] (25 page)

Just as they got to the door, it opened to Jane—broom in hand. Brand squeezed tighter as she spoke to Jane. “Say one word and you’ll need a lot more than a broom to clean up what I’ll do.”

W
hen Pearl told her to set the broom down and head back up the aisle, Jane obeyed, but as she walked, she scanned the room, desperate to find something. Anything.

“Sit down on the front pew,” Brand said.

Jane obeyed.

“I’m going to let go of you,” Pearl said to Mrs. McKenna. “But you make one sound, and I won’t be quite so nice as I am right now. If you understand, grunt.”

Mrs. McKenna grunted, and Pearl slammed her down onto the pew. Jane didn’t really know who moved first, but suddenly they clasped hands.

“Now, ain’t that sweet?” Pearl stood back, then moved to separate them, practically ripping Jane’s waist as she grabbed her by the collar and hauled her to the far end of the pew.

Mrs. McKenna didn’t wait to be grabbed. She scooted in the opposite direction. “Now, that’s what I like,” Pearl said. “Cooperation.” She waved the sharpened stick at Jane. “Tell me what you’re doing here.”

“Cleaning. Cleaning and looking for a locket. Preacher’s wife said she lost it earlier today.”

Mrs. McKenna spoke up. “She doesn’t care about the locket so much as the photograph inside. Her child… just before she died.”

“That is so sad,” Pearl said, and wiped an imaginary tear off her face, even as she reached into a pocket and withdrew the locket. “Bet it looks just like this.” She put it away. “Too bad about the kid. Life’s hard.” She shook her head in mock sympathy, then glanced from Jane to Mrs. McKenna and back again. “So if you two are cleaning the chapel, I’ve got a while to figure out what to do. You weren’t part of the plan, you know.”

“What plan would that be?”

Mrs. McKenna sounded almost belligerent. Jane glanced her way, trying to signal a warning. Pearl noticed. “Now, Janey, it’s all right. The warden’s wife wants to know the plan.” She glanced back at Mrs. McKenna. “The plan it’s taken me weeks to cultivate. The plan that started with stabbing a poor pregnant girl, so I could get off that cursed ward into the hole where a girl has a chance to do something without being watched every second.” She smiled at them both. “When this is done, be certain you thank Miss Dawson for me. I’ve been waiting a long while for her to banish Adam Selleck to my wing.”

“Adam Selleck is helping you escape?” Mrs. McKenna blurted the question out.

“Where do you think I got a uniform?”

“But why—why would he do such a thing?”

“Because of
love,
Mrs. McKenna.” She snorted. “And believe me, he’s received much more than he’s given.” Pearl looked back at Jane. “You should thank me, y’know. Because of me, Adam hasn’t been bothering any of you.” She looked back at Mrs. McKenna. “He was going to walk me out at shift change. Just my lover and ‘the new guy’ and me going through turnkey. And then, just Adam and me, heading west by the light of the moon. Now ain’t that romantic?” She paused. “Imagine what he’ll think when he comes to get me and I’ve got company.”

“You can still get away,” Jane said. “Tie us up. Gag us.”

Pearl nodded. “Good advice. Except for the fact that people are going to come looking for you long before shift change.” She sighed dramatically. “So what we have here is a conundrum of the first order.” She spit on the floor and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I don’t really have the energy to kill either one of you in this heat, but here you are in the way of my freedom. Truth be told, I’ve had a belly full of your goody-two-shoes ways, and if either of you causes me any trouble, spilling your blood in this here holy place won’t make me lose a minute’s sleep.” She wiped the sweat off her upper lip. Shook her head. “What to do… what to do…”

Ian stepped out on the front porch and looked across the road. It wasn’t all that unusual for Ellen to be this late. Miss Dawson sometimes brought some special delicacy back with her from Lincoln, and the two of them shared it over tea before Ellen came home on Sunday nights. Still, something about tonight felt different. Then again, the heat had everyone on edge. Jack had taken to sleeping on the back porch, and Georgia—well, Ian wasn’t supposed to have noticed, but Georgia only had one row of lace showing beneath her skirts these days, which meant the woman who’d been so horrified at Ian’s suggestion that one less petticoat would be cooler had actually taken his advice.

He opened the screen door and went out to sit on the steps, sipping some water and listening to the coyotes yip. A rustle in the grass not far off caught his attention. There was a flash of white, and then one of Ellen’s cats appeared, a small dark carcass dangling from its mouth. “Good kitty-kitty,” Ian called softly. The cat ignored him, and headed around the side of the house.

He should just go to bed, but he knew he wouldn’t sleep until Ellen got home. So he set his cup inside the screen door and set off across the road. The officer at turnkey was new. At sight of the warden, he sprang to military attention so quickly Ian almost laughed out loud. “Relax, son,” he said. “I’m just wondering if you’ve seen my wife.”

“Yes, sir. She and a trustee are in the chapel. Been in there nearly an hour. Mrs. McKenna said they were going to do some straightening while they looked for something the preacher’s wife lost this morning.”

So that was why that mousy little woman was so locked in conversation with Ellen. “You have any idea what she lost?”

The guard shook his head. “No, sir. Mrs. McKenna didn’t say.”

“Who’s with her?”

“I don’t know her name. Chestnut hair. Pretty, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“I don’t, and that’d be Jane Prescott.”

Ian hesitated. He didn’t want Ellen thinking he was worried about her, at least not in the way that said
I don’t trust you to do this job.
He scratched his head. “Well, when Mrs. McKenna comes out, would you tell her that her husband is waiting in his office? Tell her I’m working on notes for tomorrow’s meeting with the matron.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll tell her.”

Ian wandered back to his office. He didn’t really have anything he needed to do.
Jane Prescott.
He went to his desk, lit the lamp, and pulled Jane’s file out of the desk drawer. It had been there since the meeting with Max Zimmer weeks ago. Something just kept niggling at him. Sitting down, he opened the file and began to read. But he couldn’t concentrate. He looked down at his watch.
Twenty minutes till third shift.

Enough. Ellen had no business cleaning the chapel at this hour. If she hadn’t found whatever it was, they’d have some trustees do another search by daylight.

He turned the lamp back down, put the folder away, and headed back to turnkey. “Process me through,” he said to the guard. “Just don’t tell anyone I spent this evening helping my wife clean the chapel.”

“No, sir,” the guard grinned. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The kid passed him through turnkey, and Ian headed for the chapel. When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was a “guard” standing up on the podium. Ellen was sitting to the right end of one of the front pews, Jane Prescott to the left. The guard looked his way. With a shout, he charged up the center aisle, yelling Ellen’s name, shouting at Jane. “Get down! Get down!”

But he was too late. He’d never get there in time.

Murderous hate and venom straight from the pit of hell transformed Pearl Brand into something that would haunt Ian’s dreams as he relived the most terrifying moment in his life. Brandishing yet another homemade weapon, she screamed with fury. Spittle flew as she launched herself in the air toward Ellen, her right arm extended above her head as she plunged downward with all her strength, downward toward Ellen, who was, at the same moment, raising her hands above her head and diving for the floor.

But there was something else Ian would never forget. A flash of gray. A full-throated scream, and Jane Prescott throwing herself atop Ellen the second before Pearl Brand drove her weapon downward.

It was over in seconds. One moment Pearl was speaking in an odd, monotonous voice, detailing her plan to escape, and the next she lifted her head, glanced toward the door, and was transformed into something Ellen could only think of as
other.
Furious, hateful, murderous, yet more than all of those. Ellen wouldn’t know until later that Ian’s arrival had prompted the change. All she knew was someone shouted “down,” and Pearl transformed, and Ellen knew she was going to die.

Defending herself was a reflex, no brave pose to fend off an attack. Her hands flew up, and she dove forward and away from Pearl. And then something landed on top of her with a grunt. The air went out of her, and the room went dark for a split second. When next Ellen was aware of what had happened, Ian had Pearl on her stomach on the floor, his knee between her shoulder blades. Guards were streaming into the room. And Jane… Jane had rolled off her and lay, her eyes closed, a strange half smile on her face.

Ellen sat up, screaming her name. “Jane! Jane, do you hear me?” She saw Pearl’s weapon protruding from Jane’s arm and reached for it.

“Don’t touch that,” Ian said abruptly. “It might be keeping—just don’t touch it.”

Two guards knelt next to Pearl Brand. While Ian held her down, one applied handcuffs, the other leg irons.

“Selleck,” Ellen gasped. “Adam Selleck was helping her.”

Ian glowered. “You heard her, men. You know what to do.” He knelt over Jane. “And get the doctor.”

“He’s… um… he wasn’t on tonight, Warden,” someone said. “He’s—“

Ian roared, “Are you telling me he’s drunk again?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Pack him up and throw him out. I mean it. Now. And get me Sergeant Underhill.”

Underhill came galloping in. When he saw Jane on the floor, his face went white.

“I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks,” Ian said quickly. “But I want Dr. Zimmer. Make sure he knows it’s just the arm. Tell him we’ve left the weapon in to control any bleeding, but it’s gone nearly all the way through.” Underhill headed off. “And Martin.” He turned around. “Don’t tell him it’s Jane. We don’t need him breaking his neck on the way out here. And neither does she.”

That’s when Ian reached out and flung his arm around Ellen’s neck and pulled her close. He was trembling. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine. Jane was so… brave.” She blinked away the tears. “Why would she do that? To save me?”

Ian’s entire body shuddered. He shook his head.

Jane opened her eyes. Grimaced as she looked around. Where was she? Some kind of infirmary. Was that children she heard? Shouting? Playing? When she lifted her head, someone sitting just to her right moved. She blinked several times. The ceiling in this place was… blue? Who did that? Who painted a ceiling blue? She licked her lips.

“Here ya go. Nice and cold.”

Georgia?
Jane frowned.

“Yes, ‘Just Jane,’ it’s me. Have a drink and tell me how you’re feeling.”

When Georgia reached behind Jane to help her sit up, pain shot through her left side. She looked down.
My arm.
Never had water tasted so wonderful. She looked over the top of the glass while she drank, taking in the rest of the infirmary. She was the only patient. Three other empty beds filled the room. Privacy screens leaned against the walls. And again… she heard children outside. She frowned. “Where am I?”