I should have closed and locked the windows.
This was ridiculous. She was overreacting.
She stood very still, listening intently. She thought she heard a floorboard squeak. The sense that she was no longer alone in the house built rapidly until it became overpowering. She could hardly breathe. The urge to run, to hide, to escape surged through her. She was trapped in the darkroom. She had to get out. Now.
She put down the holder and reached for the edge of the heavy curtain.
The door of the darkroom crashed open just as she started to pull the thick fabric aside. A man loomed in the entrance, silhouetted against the daylight streaming through the windows of the kitchen behind him.
Morris Deverell had a dagger in one hand. She didn’t need to employ her inner eye to sense the waves of sick excitement emanating from him. He smiled.
“How did you figure it out?” he said.
He did not wait for an answer. He lunged forward, the point of the dagger aimed at her midsection.
A strange sense of intense focus flashed through her. Time slowed. It was as if she was observing the scene through the lens of a camera.
She yanked the blackout curtain back into place just as Morris rushed toward her.
He yelped in fury when the point of the dagger ripped through the fabric. For a few seconds he struggled to free the blade even as he used his free hand to haul the curtain aside.
Vivian was waiting, the tray of developer in her hands. She hurled the strong chemicals straight into his face. Morris grunted and reared back, instinctively raising his free hand in a belated attempt to protect his eyes. She followed up with the tray of fixer.
“You crazy bitch,” Morris roared. He wiped frantically at his eyes. “You’re a dead woman. Do you understand? You’re dead.”
But he was partially blinded by the chemicals. He instinctively retreated a step and came up against the heavy curtain. He waved the blade in wide arcs, fending her off while he attempted to clear his vision.
Vivian seized the heavy steel enlarger easel and threw it, discus style, at Morris. The corner of the metal plate caught him in the chest. Yowling in pain and rage, he managed to free himself from the blackout curtain.
He turned and staggered out the door and into the kitchen.
Vivian rushed after him because there was no other way out of the darkroom. She could not let him trap her there again.
She reached the kitchen in time to see Deverell stumbling out the door. The small backyard was enclosed with a waist-high wooden fence. It was doubtful he would try to scale it in his current panicky state. It was more likely he would use the garden gate that opened onto a walkway that led around the side of the house to the street.
The bastard was going to get away.
Driven by the violent energy of panic and fury, Vivian changed course and ran toward the front door. She got it open just in time to see Deverell emerge from the side of the house and veer toward the sidewalk in a shambling run. He was using both hands to wipe his eyes now. He had evidently dropped the dagger.
A tall, muscular young man was coming up the sidewalk, heading toward Vivian’s front door. Roland Jennings had come directly from the lifeguard station. He wore only a pair of swimming trunks. He had the kind of body that made both men and women look twice. His chest appeared to have been hewn from granite, thanks to hours of exercise on the nearby stretch of sand known as Muscle Beach.
He was Vivian’s afternoon client.
Roland stopped, bewildered by the sight of a half-blind Deverell staggering toward him.
“Stop him, Roland,” Vivian shouted. “That’s the Dagger Killer.”
Roland Jennings did not hesitate. His job as a lifeguard had accustomed him to reacting swiftly in emergencies. He grabbed the back of Deverell’s elegantly cut jacket and hoisted him off his feet.
“My eyes,” Deverell shrieked. “I need a doctor.”
Roland ignored him. “Are you okay, Miss Brazier?”
“Yes,” she said, panting for breath. “He just tried to murder me. Hang on to him while I call the cops.”
“Sure,” Roland said.
He gave Deverell a ferocious shaking.
“My eyes,” Morris shrieked again, his feet dangling several inches off the ground. “She tried to blind me.”
Vivian’s next-door neighbor Betty Spalding, a retired schoolteacher, came out onto the front step. She wiped her hands on her apron.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“It’s the Dagger Killer,” Vivian said.
Betty’s eyes widened. “Good heavens. He looks like such a nice man.”
A few more neighbors appeared.
“Whatever you do, don’t let him get away,” Vivian said to Roland.
“Don’t worry, Miss Brazier,” Roland said. “I’ve got him.”
“My eyes,” Morris yelled. He struggled in Roland’s iron grip. “Get me some water. I’m going blind.”
“Bring him over here,” Mr. Anderson said. “I’ll use my garden hose to wash out his eyes.”
Vivian rushed back into the house and called the police. On the way out the front door she grabbed her Speed Graphic and an extra film holder. She would deal with the shock to her nerves later. In that moment she had to stay focused.
She might like to call herself an artist but she paid the bills with her photojournalism work. There was only one word to describe the golden opportunity that had just been presented to her.
Exclusive.
Chapter 8
DAGGER KILLER ESCAPES, FOUND DEAD
Morris Deverell, arrested yesterday afternoon on murder charges, escaped the hospital where he was taken for treatment. Early this morning his body was found on the rocks below Sunset Point. Authorities believe that Deverell was hitchhiking and was struck by a passing motorist traveling at high speed. The driver did not stop at the scene. The impact sent the body over the edge of the bluff, where it was discovered.
Detective Archer of the Adelina Beach Police Department announced that, in addition to an extensive collection of antique daggers, several pieces of expensive photography equipment were discovered in Deverell’s large house on Pacific Lane.
When she finished the article in the Adelina Beach Courier, Vivian allowed herself a moment to admire the photo. It showed Roland Jennings in a classic Charles Atlas pose with his feet braced wide apart, one fist on his hip, the other holding Deverell aloft. She had written the caption for Eddy and he had used it unchanged. LOCAL HERO CATCHES DAGGER KILLER. Per her customary demand, there was no photo credit. She was pretty sure the picture would go national.