The door opened wide on silent hinges. A boulder of a man blocked most of the foyer light, casting him into an ominous shadow. Maybe she’d been too quick to tell Abraham no man could carry her away. This one appeared capable of tossing her over his shoulder as though she were nothing more than a potato sack.
“Looks like Miss Pelton attends service like she writes her books. In secret.” His bass voice belonged in the choir loft with how much it boomed in the small space and shook her courage.
Be Detective Darcy. Firm. Confident. And for heaven’s sake, Lydia, don’t let your sweaty hands lose their grip on the bar.
She lifted her chin and tried to meet the man’s shadowed gaze. “I believe you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“You telling me you’re a monkey come to swing in a closet? If you want to swing, I’ve got a rope to help you along.”
From behind him, a woman’s voice squawked. “It’s too dark in there. Are you sure it’s her?”
He grabbed Lydia’s chin and forced her forward into the light as he shifted aside. A squat female, about the same age as the man, lifted theCincinnati Commercialto Lydia’s face and nodded sharply.
Cruel excitement lit the man’s exposed face.
She would not cower. She was Detective Darcy, and Detective Darcy would yank this rod free and vanquish the villain without even disturbing the service.
She jumped and used the full weight of her body to pull the bar free.
Only the stupid thing remained firmly anchored.
Arms thick as Roman columns wrapped around her waist and tugged. Unlike the rod, her sweaty hands gave way without resistance.
The organ and a multitude of singing voices covered the sounds of their scuffling.
Her angle was all wrong to knee the man. She’d never get enough momentum for him to drop her. That left her with only a damsel-in-distress tactic.
The woman shoved material into Lydia’s mouth before she could so much as squeak. “We’ll have none of that. You’ll come with us nice and quiet, and I won’t have to do to you what Billy Poe did to my boy, Joseph.”
Joseph Keaton. The half dozen limestone steps might not kill her if they tossed her, but that didn’t mean a serious injury couldn’t occur.
Lydia nodded her acquiescence and walked down a few steps between the two abductors.
“Miss Pelton, is that you?”
The familiar voice came from behind, and she peered over her shoulder to find Mr. Clemens beaming at her.
There was no way he could miss the giant wad of material in her mouth, and yet he smiled? Was he part of this outlandish plot?
He jogged down to stand in front of them with his notebook and pencil in hand.
By all that was holy, if that man was slowing them just to get a story, she’d lay him out flat and then kiss him for the delay. If it resulted in someone else coming to her aid.
Confusion squished her kidnappers’ faces, indicating he wasn’t a part of their scheme.
“Ah, Mrs. Keaton, Phillip, you’re both looking well. If you’ll recall, I’m Eugene Clemens with theCincinnati Commercial. We met last week to discuss seeking justice for Joseph’s death.”
“You should mind your own business and move along. We’ve got our justice.” Phillip yanked Lydia down another step.
Mr. Clemens moved to block his path. “Cincinnati will hail you as heroes. Tell me.” He scooted closer and whispered eagerly. “Since your son’s death matched his crime, will you be breaking Miss Pelton’s fingers to match her own?”
Heavens above! Was he really giving these two suggestions?
Phillip’s bottom lip protruded in consideration. “That’s not a bad idea.”
No! It was a terrible idea.
“It’s not,” Clemens agreed. “But I think we could do better. Where were you planning to do the deed?”
