A loud pounding sounded on the door. Rex started barking furiously.
“Linda,” Eleanor shouted, her voice muffled. “You must listen to me. Norburn intends to murder you at sea. I’ve called the police. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Linda started down the hall toward the front door. Unfortunately her path took her very close to Norburn.
“No,” Nick said.
Why in hell couldn’t things ever go according to plan? Why did there always have to be a miscalculation?
Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. People. They were invariably the problem. Unfortunately for a man in his line of work, people—specifically clients—were the ones who paid the bills.
He moved quickly, trying to intercept Linda, but it was too late. Norburn grabbed her and pinned her close with an arm around her throat. At the same time he took a folding pocketknife out of his trousers. He flicked the blade open and put the tip to Linda’s throat.
It was not a big knife but it didn’t take a large blade to do lethal damage.
The front door opened. Eleanor appeared. Rex raced inside.
“Rex,” Nick said quietly.
The dog rushed to his side and took up a position next to him.
“The door was unlocked,” Eleanor said. She stopped, taking in the situation at a glance. “Let her go, you bastard.”
Rex growled.
“Keep that damned dog away from me or I’ll cut Linda’s throat,” Norburn said.
“Rex,” Nick said. “Stay.”
Rex obeyed but he shivered with battle-ready tension.
“Linda and I are leaving,” Norburn said. He backed away, Linda locked against him, the blade of the pocketknife at her throat. He edged toward the rear of the house.
“I assume you’re going to try to get away in your car,” Nick said.
“That’s right,” Norburn said. “My speedster can outrun any police car. If anyone tries to stop me, Linda will be a dead woman.”
“You’ll be needing your key,” Nick said. He held up the key he had taken from the ignition.
Norburn stared at the key in disbelief. “You son of a bitch. Give the key to Linda. Go on, give it to her, you bastard.”
“Sure,” Nick said.
He walked forward. Rex paced beside him.
“Stop,” Norburn yelped. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Make up your mind,” Nick said.
Norburn angled his jaw toward a console table. “Put the key on top of that table. Linda will pick it up.”
Nick set the key down on the polished wooden table. Norburn edged toward the table. He did not loosen his hold on Linda.
“Get it,” he told her.
She reached out and picked up the key, fingers visibly shaking.
Gilford dragged her out of the living room. They both disappeared down the hall.
Eleanor turned to Nick, stricken. “He’ll kill her.”
“No,” Nick said. “He won’t. She’s his insurance policy. She’s no good to him dead.”
But he knew he was taking chances now. He had a talent for predicting actions and calculating outcomes but Norburn was wound up very tight. Rage and panic created an explosive tension. People who lost control were highly volatile, less predictable.
Nick and Rex reached the kitchen just in time to see Norburn and Linda at the back door. Norburn no longer had Linda by the throat. Securing a captive in that way was awkward, after all, especially when you were trying to run. He now had his fist clamped around Linda’s upper right arm.
“Open the door,” Norburn ordered.
She obeyed. Norburn charged through first, intent on pulling her after him.
The toe of his shoe caught on the garden twine that Nick had strung across the back door a few inches off the floor.
Norburn yelped. In a frantic effort to keep his balance, he released Linda, dropped the pocketknife, and flailed wildly. But it was too late. He had too much momentum.
He toppled forward, slamming chest-first on the floor of the porch with enough force to send a shudder through the wooden boards.
“Guard,” Nick said to Rex.
The dog leaped forward and took up a threatening post near Gilford’s head.
“Get that dog away from me,” Gilford said.
Everyone, including Rex, ignored him.
Nick stripped off his necktie and crouched to bind Norburn’s wrists behind his back.
Wailing sirens shattered the early-morning silence of the neighborhood.
“The police are here,” Eleanor said. “Thank heavens. Linda, are you all right, dear?”
“Yes.” Linda wrapped her arms around her midsection. She gazed at Gilford. Shock and disbelief were starting to give way to fury. “You were right about him, Aunt Eleanor.”
Eleanor put a comforting arm around her. “I’m so sorry, darling.”
Nick got to his feet.
“You can’t prove anything,” Gilford hissed.
But his voice was weaker now, as if he was trying to convince himself.
“All I have to do is make sure that every newspaper in the city knows that you married Linda under false pretenses and took out a life insurance policy on her, just as you did after you married those other women,” Nick said. “You lied about your name. You lied about your previous marriages. You lied about your finances.”
“You don’t know anything about my finances,” Gilford roared. “That’s private information.”
“I’m sure Linda’s lawyer will be able to get those details,” Nick said.
Gilford’s jaw clenched. “My wife doesn’t have a lawyer.”
“You’re wrong, Norburn,” Eleanor said. “Linda does have a lawyer—my personal attorney.”
Two uniformed officers appeared around the corner of the house.
“No one answered the door,” one of them said. “Thought we’d better have a look back here. What’s going on?”
Eleanor pointed at Gilford. “That man on the floor is my niece’s husband. He was planning to murder her for the insurance money. Mr. Sundridge stopped him.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed in a thoughtful expression. “Nick Sundridge?”
“That’s right,” Nick said.
“Heard Detective Teague talk about you. You’re the private detective who was involved in that shoot-out on top of the hotel a year ago. Something about a fight over a woman.”