Page 110 of Say Yes to the Death

The bald one took another step forward. Lights came on behind them and illuminated the alleyway. A car must have been turning down a neighboring street. Now was her chance.

“Run,” Claire screamed at the girl. She pulled the metal trash can lid toward her and released it like a Frisbee. It sailed down the alley and clanged straight into the bald one’s nose.

“You fucking bitch!” Blood poured from his nose like a spigot. Claire’s stomach heaved.

The girl in the yellow sundress ran back out to the street.

“Claire! Claire Hartley!” an unfamiliar voice called from behind her. The alleyway was still illuminated. What the hell was happening now?

The men turned and sprinted down the alley. They jumped the fence at the end and kept going.

Relief flooded her for a split second. Sawyer was talking to someone behind them. Hopefully it was the police. She was fairly certain she could give a good enough description to track the men down.

Her stomach burned and lurched. Oh, no. She was going to?—

“Get the shot! Get the shot!” A male voice called behind her. “Doug Schroff, Channel Eight News reporting live from the scene where the only living victim of the West Haven Widowmaker appears to have just assaulted an innocent bystander outside a bar. Miss Hartley, do you care to comment?”

“Hey,” Sawyer’s voice boomed behind her. The reporter ignored him.

An innocent bystander? She couldn’t hold it in. It was no use. She bent over in the alleyway and vomited spectacularly onto the ground.

“Miss Hartley! Are you drunk? Did you just assault that young man? What do you have to say for yourself?” Something soft bounced off her head. She glanced up. A low-hanging boom microphone. She groaned and whirled toward the camera.

“I didn’t assault him. He was going to hurt that girl!” She gestured in the direction that the girl in the sundress had gone.

Doug reeked of aftershave. “Is that really what was happening? Or did we just witness the violent, alcoholic streak referenced by Rachel Islestorm, Mr. Windsor’s attorney?”

“That’s enough.” Sawyer stepped into the shot and pulled Claire out of the alley.

“Not everything is as it seems in the Widowmaker trial,” the reporter said into the camera as Sawyer dragged her back toward the bar entrance. “Claire Hartley is currently the defendant in a civil case for assaulting renowned local business owner Wendy Flutter after a drunken confrontation at an engagement party. An incident like this surely makes you wonder, is she really a victim? Or is the Happily Ever Afters moniker covering up something much darker?”

Sawyer marched her inside and stood in front of her to block their shot.

“Sawyer, no, I have to tell them?—”

He grabbed both of her arms. “Look at me. They’re not going to listen to you.”

“But we saved that girl from getting attacked or worse.” She gestured at the sidewalk outside.

“I know you did. But if you go back out there, they’re going to twist whatever you say. Trust me. Stay put. Mint?”

“What? No, I don’t need a—well, yes. Thank you.” She took the offered breath mint and popped it into her mouth. What an awful night. She glanced back out at the reporter, who was still standing in front of the bar.

She turned to Sawyer. “Did you see that guy’s tattoo?”

“The one of the hotdog surfing?”

“No, the Greek letters on his left arm. Epsilon, sigma, alpha.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

To Do:

- Research ESA

- Upgrade pepper spray

- Escape room – combo locks

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