Free A Mother's Day Murder (Mt. Abrams Mysteries Book 1) by Dee Ernst Page A

got everything she wanted,” he screamed at me. “She said she would leave us alone.” He had to be talking about Lacey. Why had she left? And why was he so terrified of her coming back?
    I was done. My blood was pounding so hard I could feel it trying to burst through my heart and out of my chest. I looked down, found the lock button, pressed it, and pushed the car door open. He grabbed at me, caught my wrist, and twisted. There was a brief spurt of pain, but I jerked my arm, and his fist closed on the sleeve of my rain slicker. I pulled away, leaving him holding the empty slicker, and went running out into the rain and up the street toward my house. I was afraid to look back. He was in a car. He was obviously crazy. What if he tried to run me over?
    I swerved off the street and jumped up on the stone wall bordering my yard. I immediately slipped, falling on my face in the wet grass, but at least I was on the other side. He couldn’t run me over without plowing through hundred-year-old puddingstone and mortar. I struggled to my feet, soaked, sprinted through to the back yard, and then slowed enough to glance over my shoulder.
    Doug’s car had not moved. It was still in the middle of the street, wipers on, motor idling, my bright yellow slicker spilling out the open car door.
    I ran through the lilac bushes, up the steps, and into the house. I locked the back door with unsteady hands. Then I raced to the front door and threw the dead bolt. I sank to the floor, shaking uncontrollably, breathing in great gulps, Boot whimpering at my side.

    I had texted Maggie . I was still huddled on the floor when Boot started barking. Seconds later, there was a pounding on the door behind me.
    “Ellie, are you okay?”
    I struggled to my feet and unlocked the door. Maggie was standing there, Vivian Brewster behind her. She came in, grabbed my arm, and pushed me back into the kitchen.
    “You need tea,” she said. I sat down. My breathing was back to normal, but I was drenched and felt cold. I think I was shivering. Viv had been in my house enough times to know my kitchen, and she pulled out mugs and tea bags. Maggie had vanished, but returned with a throw from the living room and put it around my shoulders. I wiped my face with the corner of the throw and pulled it tightly around me.
    There was silence, until a mug of tea was put in front of me. I took a grateful sip and closed my eyes.
    “Do you want to call the police?” Maggie asked.
    I shook my head.
    “Ellie, you sent me a text that Doug was after you. Are you sure?”
    I took another sip. “Is he still parked out front?”
    “No,” Viv said.
    “He has my slicker.” My teeth had stopped chattering.
    “We’ll get it back,” Maggie said. “What happened?”
    I told them. I looked into my tea, sipping it as I spoke. When I was done, I looked up at them. “What should I do?”
    Viv sat back, folded her arms across her chest, and shook her head. “Girl, you are into something here.”
    Vivian Brewster, besides being a very successful business woman, was the kind of person you wanted in a dire emergency, because she never seemed fazed by events around her. A few years ago, when Hurricane Sandy came through and Mt. Abrams was without power for eight days, she got the key to the Josiah Abrams original summer retreat, which had become the clubhouse for the Lake Association. It still had gas for cooking and a fireplace in every room, and she set up a place where we could all come to get warm and fed.
    She was also beautiful, with skin the color of coffee with a hint of cream, high cheekbones and wide dark eyes. She could have easily been taken for an African princess, but when she opened her mouth, Bayonne would come out.
    She wagged her finger at me. “Breaking into that house? You both know those people aren’t right. And now you have him goin’ all kinds of crazy on you, and not in a good way.” She shook her head again. “What were you all thinkin’?”
    Just hearing