Blood Image: Tale of Murder and an Ultimate Betrayal

By Pat Booth-Lynch

Although Madelyn hides a dark secret shes kept from her husband for years, her marriage to Cheng Gao is all she dreamed it would be as they share a loving relationship centered around their precocious three-year old daughter Lyn.
However, when Chengs brother, Xiong, arrives on the scene, Madelyns world evolves into a nightmare filled with mental illness, murder, a heart-breaking loss, and an ultimate betrayal.
Is Madelyns glorious life with Cheng and Lyn shattered forever, or does fate hold the key to happiness beyond her wildest imagination?
Dont miss the suspenseful events that lead to a shocking conclusion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 19, 2006
• ISBN: 9781465329219

Pat Booth-Lynch

Pat Booth Lynch considers her life a true adventure. She’s discovered the joy of traveling to exotic places, engaged in a rewarding corporate career, developed talents that have expanded her horizons, raised a talented daughter, Kyle, and has been married to a dynamo of a husband Jack, who has made the journey seem like a trip to a candy store. Currently, while living in Florida, she’s involved in writing thriller novels, namely Blood Pearls and Blood Image as well as short stories that have won awards, some of which are highlighted in an anthology titled, Tales to tease the senses. When she’s not pounding our provocative stories or managing her Ease-on Apparel Corporation, you’ll find her traveling to those far away places with the strange sounding names in search of that next adventure.

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BLOOD IMAGE

A Tale of Murder and an Ultimate Betrayal

Pat Booth-Lynch

Copyright © 2006 by Pat Booth-Lynch.

Photography and Art Work by Pat Booth-Lynch

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any

form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,

or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing

from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to

any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

EPILOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The enthusiastic interest of my friends and colleagues has been a perpetual source of encouragement, and to all I am grateful. Special thanks to our daughter, Kyle Neven, also to Virginia Bleck, Judy Clark, Carol Kennedy, Nora O’Toole, Pat Snyder, Mary Stark, and to those who contributed to this work namely, Jeanne Burmeister, Yvonne Booth, Prudy Taylor Board, Marilyn Heraty, Diane Meteyard, and June Woodring. Accolades to Joe Zelenz who is a master publicist and is unmatched at spreading the word.

Thanks as well to the many who helped me research this tale of a family’s heartbreaking loss. Police investigative techniques and other technical data were supplied by the following professionals:

Finally, thanks to my Jack who has always been there for me during a marriage that might be described as controlled chaos. My proclivity not his. Somehow Jack has managed to overlook or at least balance my exuberance by offering patience, support and unequivocal love.

CHAPTER 1

Friday . . . December 3, 1993

Madelyn bit down on her bottom lip as she reached for her desk phone and dialed her Lake Geneva cottage. You didn’t forget to give Lyn her medicine, did you?

Sure’n I did that an hour ago, Bridget said, offering her own Irish spin on the words. Gave it to her right after lunch, and she’s doin’ fine. Fact is, she’s plunking away on that little piano you got her. Hey, she’s good, Madelyn. Goin’ to be a concert pianist some day. You wait’n see, and to think she’s only a kid. Where did she get that talent?

Absently, Madelyn responded, From my mother.

"Don’t sell yourself short. You creative devil."

Forget about me. I’m worried about Lyn. I should be with her.

Oh, stop it or you’re goin’ to make yourself sick. As I said, she’s doin’ fine. On the other hand, the weather here isn’t so great. It’s snowing pretty hard. Think you can get home early?

I’ll try. Let me talk to Lyn.

Madelyn smiled to herself as she tapped her fingers on her desk top while waiting for her daughter to come to the phone. Her heart fluttered when she heard the girl’s tiny voice say, Hi, mommy.

Are you being a nice girl for Bridget?

Uh-huh.

That’s good. Mommy loves you, and I’ll see you in a little while, okay?

Okay. Can we play in the snow when you get home?

We’ll sure try. Now you be good, sweetie.

She’s on her way back to the piano, Bridget cut in. I can’t keep her away from it.

Tell her I’ll bring home some animal crackers will you? She loves ‘em.

Will do. Take care driving, and see ya later.

Madelyn sank back into her chair and stared out the window of her luxurious corner office. Dark clouds scattered across a bruised sky, offering a promise of snow. Gray shadows spilled down the sides of the brick and steel buildings that lined the banks of the Chicago River. Storm’s coming for sure.

Madelyn was right. As the day progressed, menacing snow flurries threatened to cover the city with a blanket of winter white. Working feverishly, she tried to clear her desk so she could leave the office and get on to the cottage. All was going well until a special delivery letter addressed to her at her jewelry firm arrived in the afternoon. She was aware that tragedy’s invisible scars run deep, but she didn’t realize how deep until she opened the envelope and found a scribbled note inside. The message, written on a shabby piece of paper, was brief but it sent her mind into turmoil. It read:

Madelyn and Cheng, I’m back. Arrived in California. I’ll find you.

Xiong

A host of latent fears bubbled to the surface as terror ripped a path from her toes to the top of her head, leaving the stabbing pain of a headache coming on. Leaning forward, she rested her head in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut as if the act could protect her from the ghastly images burned in her memory. Yet, the horrific incident, that had happened one night four years ago, was engraved in her mind’s eye, and the vision refused to fade . . .

Xiong forced her to face him as the tip of his knife blade pointed at her throat. All the while his eyes burned with the hot flame of revenge.

Take your clothes off. I want to see what Cheng finds so good. When Madelyn didn’t move, Xiong reached down and, with one fast slice, ripped her sweater from bottom to top, exposing her delicate skin and silk bra.

Her fingers clutched the ragged threads of her sweater, yet she remained still and unyielding.

Xiong grabbed her arm with one hand. With the other hand, he planted the knife tip against her side. His foul breath hit her face like a rock against a pane of glass, and she coughed to dispel the stale odor. He persisted, gouging her skin. Blood trickled down her side.

You will do it, he ordered, his voice grating and harsh.

Madelyn frantically looked about the room. She glanced at the phone. No hope there, for it was on the other side of the bed. She couldn’t get out of the room, either, for Xiong had blocked her way. All right, she snapped, you want a good one, then I’ll give you one. With that she tore her sweater from her shoulders and pretended to go along. If I can just get to that knife, she thought.

While Xiong sat down on the chair opposite her and dangled the shiny blade by its pearl handle, she stepped out of her skirt and thigh-high hose and stood before him in her bra and bikini briefs.

Take it all off! Xiong said.

Madelyn stared at the knife. He had raised it to near face height. While he rolled the handle in one hand, the forefinger of his other hand poked delicately on the tip. She knew it must be sharp, for it had sliced through her sweater like whipped cream, and the possibility of death hit her hard.

Xiong glared at her under heavy brows, scanning her frame as he did so. Hurry up! he commanded. He stepped forward and again pointed the tip of the blade at her throat.

Fear forced her to rethink her options. She hurriedly moved away and pressed her back against the wall then raised her arms to fend off an attack.

When Xiong moved closer, so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheek, she squeezed her eyes shut, certain he was about to kill her.

Instead, he placed the cold steel blade between her breasts. She felt a sharp prick on her skin, and, with a swift upward stroke, he cut the bra in half. She glanced down to see blood trickling the length of her belly. Though frightened beyond belief, Madelyn slipped her silk briefs over her hips and pulled them off. Vowing to show no fear, she stood naked as he gazed at her.

She concluded that the sight must have pleased Xiong, for he watched her every move. His fiery eyes revealed the excitement he felt observing her breasts rise and fall in rapid succession as she took in great gulps of air.

He sat the knife down on the dresser and turned toward her. Madelyn spotted an opportunity. She ran for the knife and grabbed the handle just as Xiong’s fingers grasped her forearm. Instinctively, she raised her knee to deliver a groin punch, but he slammed her arm against the glass on the dresser before she had a chance. Madelyn cried out as the glass top broke and shattered into pieces that stung her flesh. In the struggle, she lost her grip on the bone-handled knife, and it fell to the floor.

Xiong seized her by the waist and tossed her onto the bed with such force that her neck almost snapped. She coiled into a knot and yanked her knees up under her chin. Don’t do this, she said. Cheng will never forgive you if he finds out.

The brute stood beside the bed, his eyes ablaze. I have plans for him, too. That said, Xiong jerked strips of wadded cord from his back pocket and raised her hands to the top of the headboard. He cuffed her across the face with the back of his hand when she tried to resist. Then, he pulled a soiled handkerchief from another pocket and stuffed it into her mouth.

Madelyn gagged, struggled to kick him, to wiggle to one side and then to the other, but he maneuvered onto the bed, pressed his knee into her chest and tied her wrists to the headboard. She tried to wrest her arms free. She couldn’t.

Chou biao zi! he cried out while he struggled with the last cord that was barely long enough to secure into a knot.

Madelyn had no idea what the Chinese phrase meant, but by his tone she knew it must be a curse.

After he had lashed her down, he slipped off the bed, walked to the dresser, recovered the knife and placed it on the floor near the headboard. When he pulled his jeans downward over his hips, she flinched at the sight of his dingy shorts.

Xiong picked up the steel-bladed knife and slid it along her thigh with the point fast against her mound. He held it there. Stop or you’ll get this inside.

Terrified to move, she lay silent and still while he crawled atop her. But when he thrust her legs apart, she let out a muffled groan. Staring down at her, he raved, Now you’ll pay.

As she choked on the salt-stained cloth that caught her tears, Xiong invaded her over and over again. With his mouth partly open and his large teeth firmly set, Xiong ruthlessly penetrated her, tearing as deeply into her body as he could. The brutal assault continued for what Madelyn thought to be an eternity. Finally, with one forceful thrust, she felt his semen rush within her then his body went limp.

After he left, Madelyn lay numb in her bed of fear. In shock, she cried without tears, knowing that night of hell would never fully leave her consciousness for as long as she lived. It was truly a curse that would haunt her forever.

Just reading Xiong’s name on that letter brought the whole sordid incident into razor sharp focus. She shuddered as a chill raced through her and sank bone deep.

* * *

Madelyn! Hey . . . Madelyn! Connie snapped her fingers and leaned over the front of her boss’s desk. What’s going on? she said. You’ve had two calls and you’re not answering your line. What’s up?

Madelyn blinked her eyes, stiffened her back and stared at her secretary. Oh, Connie, she gasped, I must have had a nightmare.

In the daytime? Connie said with a frown. You really need a break. Good thing we’re off for a few days.

My God, Madelyn said, her voice strained.

What?

I’ve gotta call home.

Connie’s frown deepened and she turned to leave. Whatever you say. Anyway, holler if you need me.

Madelyn nodded then redialed her Lake Geneva cottage. An irritating, computer-generated voice blared, All circuits are out. Please try your call later.

An exhaustive sigh escaped her lips. Work that day had been one of those horrendous experiences that made her wonder if it wouldn’t be easier to slip into anonymity in some quiet town in the south and peddle sewing machines or something. The phone service, snow flurries that looked like they weren’t going to let up and now that threatening letter from Xiong. All had turned against her in a vicious twist of fate. For a few minutes she sat staring out the window, not knowing whether to scream or pound her desk. She had just hit the recall button on her phone and gotten another circuits out report when Connie burst into the room carrying a file folder.

Hate to bother you again, but I forgot that these Franklin contracts need signing. Want to do it now?

I haven’t time, Con. I can’t get through to the cottage. Circuits are out I guess, so I’ll have to get going. Fumbling as she tried to stuff papers into her briefcase, she added, I want to get home and be sure everything’s all right.

What’s the matter with you? You look frazzled.

Madelyn wrinkled her nose. Hey, thanks.

I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. But, you look so flustered. I’ve never seen you like this.

Don’t worry. I’m okay, but you’d better get going, too. Looks like that storm they predicted last night is moving in fast.

Madelyn grabbed her coat and case and rushed from the office, saying, Have a great weekend. Don’t forget we’re off till Wednesday.

Connie stood slack jawed. "Moi, forget time off? You’ve got to be kidding."

Getting out of the Loop was difficult enough, for the storm was a definite threat on its way. Fact is, the snow was falling at a steady pace and traffic was heavy. No sooner had she crossed the Illinois/ Wisconsin border on Route 12 when she remembered a promise she had made earlier that day to her daughter, Lyn, whose round green eyes and impish smile never ceased to tug at her mother’s heart. The child most often got what she wanted. Snow and all, this night was no exception.

Madelyn recalled the difficult time she had giving birth to her precious little girl with the dimpled cheeks like her daddy’s. She had always wanted children, and she was devastated when the doctor told her she could never have another. Maybe I’ve spoiled Lyn, but nothing is too good for my baby.

So, exiting at the North Brookfield Road ramp, Madelyn traveled east where she pulled into the shopping mall opposite the Bonhomme Center for Nervous Disorders. She had planned on stopping at the Center on her way to the cottage, a routine she followed religiously every Friday night since Justin, her teenage stepson, had been committed for psychiatric care. But, tonight would have to be an exception. No way could she risk another delay since the storm had now escalated to a near blizzard.

She rushed inside, and a short time later scooted from the comfort of the supermarket to her snow-covered car and stowed the boxes of animal crackers on the seat beside her. While the car warmed up, she dialed the Bonhomme Center.

I can’t make it in to see Justin tonight, she explained. Tell him I’m sorry, but it’s the weather you know.

I don’t blame you for not venturing out in this, but his nurse, Mrs. Mueller, is off today. Her brother is visiting. I’ll tell the director, though, and he can pass the message along to the staff.

After expressing her appreciation, Madelyn hung up and rubbed her leather gloves together to stimulate her circulation. She usually enjoyed the drive to their weekend cottage retreat. This night she despised the thought.

Seconds after pulling onto Route 12 again, her headlights flashed onto the snow-laden sign at the entrance to the Braidwood Academy. Justin had spent the last few years of his schooling there before being suspended then hospitalized at the Bonhomme Center which was, coincidently, next door to the academy. Strangely enough, she thought, he had moved from one facility to the one next door. As her gaze ricocheted from the road to the sign and back, she recalled Justin’s inability to cope with his fellow classmates as well as to life itself. His rite of passage had been a thorny one, one she wanted to forget.

But this was no time to get caught up in a rehash of Justin’s problems with his classmates. She couldn’t be distracted. Not now. Not heading into a blizzard.

She glanced at her watch. 4:45 P.M. Hesitantly, she reached out for her hands-free phone and punched in the number for the Sea Tac Gallery in Seattle. She waited through a series of rings before a receptionist answered. I’m calling from Chicago, Madelyn said, and it’s urgent that I talk to my husband, Cheng Gao. He’s there with the Asian exhibit from the Challeron Galler—

I’ll give you the east wing.

Madelyn breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Cheng’s deep, mellow voice on the other end. You realize we haven’t been apart since the typhoon?

I know and I miss you already. In fact, I tried to call you earlier, but you had left the office.

Was your plane late this morning?

It was, and this is the first break I’ve had since the gallery opened. Cheng paused. Are you at the lake?

Not yet. I’m still on the road. Won’t get there for another half hour. But Bridget’s with Lyn.

Where’s Dora? Cheng asked. I thought she was going to take Lyn up there earlier in the day.

Dora couldn’t make it. Her sister fell, and she had to go to Joliet to help out for a few days. Don’t worry, Bridget’s glad to fill in, and she got there before the storm.

What storm?

We’re in the middle of a bad one.

How bad?

Lord, it’s a blizzard.

You’d better pull off.

Can’t. I want to get to the lake. I tried calling Bridget, but I can’t get through. Something about the circuits being out, so I thought I’d better get out of the office and make sure all’s well.

You didn’t stop to see Justin did you?

No, not tonight. I’ll get over there next week. I’m off till Wednesday.

Listen, you can see him anytime. I’m going to be worried enough about you till you get to the cottage. Be careful, darling.

I’ll be fine. Suddenly, Madelyn gasped.

What’s wrong?

Wow. That was close.

What? What was close?

Somebody spun out. But, I’m okay.

Now you’re really worrying me. You’d better stop.

No, I’m all right. I just passed them, and it’s all clear ahead. Her voice rose a notch. How’s the show going?

Challeron says it’s a winner. So far I’ve had some dealer sales, and he’s got me set up for a tour of Europe in a few weeks. I guess they like my work.

Who wouldn’t, lover? See what you get for being so talented. Pretty soon you’ll be having one-man shows for kings and queens, and you’ll forget all about us.

Oh no. You and Lyn will always come first. You know that.

Just teasing.

Two years married and I can’t get you out of my mind.

I feel the same way, hon.

After a strained silence, Cheng asked, What’s wrong?

A sick dread hit Madelyn. Past memories played through her mind, and an old pain gripped her when she thought of the letter she had received from Xiong. Telling Cheng that his half brother was in the States would open old wounds. But how can I keep this from him?

For an instant her mind closed in on itself as she tried to think of a way to break it to him (if not gently). She couldn’t, so she responded with a vague, Nothing’s wrong. Just trying to keep my eyes on the road.

"Well, be sure to call me when you get there. Wo Ai Ni darling."

I love you, too.

The snow was still heavy with a curtain of flurries that stuck like glue to the windshield when Madelyn pulled off Route 12 onto Route 50 and headed west toward the cottage. Soon she reached the turn off at Snake Road. The flurries were so dense she had to squint to see a few yards in front of her. Even the windshield wipers faltered under the strain. At one point she almost crashed into a stalled car that hadn’t pulled all the way off to one side. Finally, she made it to her cottage entrance where she passed over the narrow bridge and confronted a steep incline. With caution she tapped her foot on the accelerator and angled up the hill. When the rear tires slipped on the bed of snow, she let out a frantic gasp and grabbed the wheel in a death grip. The wipers swished erratically, and she had to strain to see through the snow-clogged windshield. By the time the car reached the crest she could feel her heart beating wildly, and her eardrums seemed ready to explode. A definite headache taking hold. Madelyn heaved a weary sigh when she viewed her driveway ahead. It was nothing less than a ski slope. Not a tire track to be seen. She thought it best to look before she leaped, so she stopped the car, got out and viewed the task at hand. The flurries were much stronger now, and she contemplated her next move, a sheer drop . . . at least a thirty-degree angle.

With a gloved hand, she brushed the snow from her eyes. She barely could see the bottom of the hill, but from what she detected, the lights in the cottage were out. I can’t get through on the phone. Now we’ve lost electricity? That’s all I need. Clearing a spot on the windshield, she slid onto the driver’s seat. Her heart rate and her breathing quickened again as she set the automatic transmission into low gear and placed a light foot on the accelerator along with another death grip on the steering wheel. Thank God the headlights work.

Sweat rolled down her face, and she felt flushed. To make matters worse, she had the strongest feeling she would shatter into a million pieces if she lost control of the car and hit a tree or the cottage itself.

Luck was with her, however, for the snow had yet to turn to ice. Only once did the car give any sign of pending trouble and that was near the bottom of the incline. As she tapped the button for the garage door opener (praying it would work) the car’s rear end swerved to the right. She was fortunate again, for the garage doors opened with ease. The fender missed the doorframe and the car entered the garage without a scrape.

Madelyn hurriedly slipped out of the seat without a thought for the blizzard that had trailed her along the way. She neither stopped to close the garage door nor the door into the darkened kitchen in her rush to get inside. The place was black. How can the garage door open if the electricity is off? Her heart fluttered, missing a beat or two as she groped her way across the room.

She reached the living area only to find Bridget sprawled on the floor before a roaring fire. Her mop of red hair rested on an oversized pillow. Madelyn stepped down into a recessed section in front of the stone fireplace and maneuvered around Bridget’s legs in order to give her friend a poke on the arm. Where’s Lyn? she asked, panic in her voice, and what about the lights. Are they out?

Bridget sat up and rubbed her knuckles over her eyelids. No, we’ve got power. Sure’n at least we had it, she said, nonchalantly. Yawning, she added, I thought it was neat in the dark with just the fireplace goin’.

Lyn got her medicine, right?

Oh yeah.

Where is she?

I put her to bed for a nap. She was plunking away on the piano till she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She’s really good you know. Surprised the hell out of me.

Madelyn paid no attention to Bridget’s remark, but quickly moved across the room to flip the light switch. The lights popped on, revealing a massive living area with a high vaulted, beamed ceiling. Without saying another word, Madelyn darted off toward the bedroom wing.

What? What’s the matter? Bridget called as she followed steps behind.

Madelyn didn’t respond, but she did notice the dead of night stillness outside of Lyn’s bedroom when she reached it. Am I being an alarmist? Her heart fluttered again as she pushed the door ajar. No sooner had she entered than a small, furry ball of seemingly disjointed parts bounded from inside the room. The miniature Yorkie pounced on her leg and let out yips of joy. Startled, Madelyn whispered, Sh-h-h-h, Dolly. You’ll wake the baby. The child was all of three years old and no longer considered a baby but, in Madelyn’s mind, Lyn was still a warm, pink bundle, meant to be pampered.

With the light from the hallway forging a backdrop, Madelyn tiptoed to Lyn’s bedside while her frisky pet scampered off, probably close on the scent of her food dish in the kitchen. A sigh of relief slipped from Madelyn’s lips as she gazed down at her little angel tucked snugly under a blanket. The child was sleeping peacefully, a panda bear cuddled close to her chest. For all the world, she looked like a delicate cherub with a heart-shaped face and creamy complexion. Madelyn settled herself on the bed, brushed a few wavy, ebony curls from her daughter’s forehead and gave her a kiss on her rosy cheek.

You make a great mom. You know that?

Madelyn twisted about to see Bridget leaning against the doorjamb. Been watching you with Lyn, Bridget said. She’s a lucky girl. But why the rush to check her? Did I do somethin’ wrong?

No . . . no. You did fine. I just wanted to be sure she’s okay. You know she’s got to take her antibiotics. Are you sure you gave it to her?

Bridget shook her head up and down and frowned. Yeah, I did. But why the panic?

Madelyn switched on the nightlight near Lyn’s dresser and moved from the room, closing the door behind her. Why? she whispered. Because I’m going out of my mind worrying about her. That’s why.

But, Lyn was good today. No sign that she was sick at all. It’s a shame she has to take antibiotics. She’s too little to hafta be worryin’ about such things.

Don’t make me feel worse. I just hope the medication works. If not she’s got to have an appendectomy. Doctor said we should know in a couple of weeks. Madelyn headed back down the hallway.

Bridget trailed behind her friend, saying, I thought when you had trouble with your appendix you had to have it out right away.

Madelyn stopped short. Lyn’s got what they call a confined appendicitis. Most of the time the body can take care of the problem. If not, they take the appendix out, but in Lyn’s case they’re using antibiotics to do the trick. If that doesn’t work then—

Surgery?

Yeah. I’m hoping she doesn’t have to go through that. A scowl coated Madelyn’s forehead.

What ya frowning for?

As if worrying about Lyn isn’t bad enough, I got a letter this afternoon that shook me up. Tried to call you about it but the call wouldn’t go through.

Bridget snapped her fingers. That reminds me. A Fax came in some time ago. Musta gotten through before the storm hit the phone lines.

Madelyn gasped. Where is it?

Bridget pointed across the room. Over there on your machine.

Within seconds Madelyn stood wide-eyed, her jaw tense as she held the Fax sheet. Another frown creased her usually flawless brow. Memories she had tried to tuck away in some far corner of her mind suddenly came at her again in a flood of anger mixed with fear. Old sins cast long shadows, ones that never seem to fade. Madelyn was so deep in thought about the ramifications of Xiong’s assault on her and the guilt over never having told Cheng about his half brother’s cruelty that she winced when Bridget gave her a poke.

You’re jumpy as hell. What’s with you?

Panic clear in her voice, Madelyn said, Here read this. She handed the Fax to Bridget after which she proceeded to pull a chair close to a set of wall cabinets. She climbed up on the soft cushion and set to work unlocking a