Carol Clark - Burned

“We sure do,” Gert agreed, her voice agitated. “We put up with a lot our whole lives. Always taking care of other people in that rainy town. Never thinking of what was good for the twins. Well, we finally woke up. Our lives had been wasting away. When we got the opportunity to take care of ourselves, we grabbed it! And we’re not going to let people like you ruin it for us!”

“No we’re not!” Ev echoed forcefully. “We should have taken control of our lives years ago!” Flexing her hands, she turned and looked at Gert. “Are you ready, sister?”

“More than ready!”

They started to close their hands around the couple’s necks when they heard glass breaking upstairs. A moment later the basement door flew open. But it didn’t stop the twins. It only made them more crazed. All the rage that had built up inside them was directed at destroying these two young lives.

“Hurry, sister!” Ev commanded as she squeezed hard around Jason’s neck.

“I’m doing it!” Gert answered. Her thick calloused hands had easily surrounded Carla’s slender, silky neck.

Choking and gagging, Carla and Jason could feel themselves blacking out.

Regan, Mike, and Lance galloped down the steps.

“Let go!” Regan screamed as she tackled Gert whose body felt like a brick wall. Mike helped pry her fingers from Carla’s neck as Officer Curtis slugged a resolute Ev and knocked her over. The sisters tumbled onto the floor as Jason and Carla gasped for breath. Lance Curtis pulled out his gun and pointed it at the twins’ heads while Mike and Regan untied the ropes that bound Carla and Jason.

Carla wrapped her arms around Regan and wouldn’t let go as racking sobs filled the room. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice quivering. Jason moved toward them, and Regan started to get out of the way.

“No.” He pulled Regan close to him and his fiancée. The three of them huddled together for several moments as Carla struggled to stop crying.

W ill’s parents arrived shortly after Regan and Mike left for the airport. He escorted his parents to their room and told them to come down to his office after they’d freshened up. He didn’t say a word about what was going on with Regan Reilly.

The minute Ned laid eyes on Will’s parents, he knew that they were the ones. How thirty years can just melt away, he thought wryly. They were seated in Will’s office when he walked in.

Ned looked from Bingsley and Almetta to Will, and a thought that had never occurred to him, because he’d been so worried about himself, surfaced in his brain. If Will’s parents bought the lei thirty years ago and it ended up in Hawaii around Dorinda Dawes’s neck, could Will be the middle man? He certainly hasn’t made it public knowledge that his parents once owned the royal lei that Dorinda was wearing when she died. Do they know? Did they sell the lei without realizing what they had?

Ned’s head was spinning. Does Will have something to worry about? Did he give the lei to Dorinda? No one saw her wearing it the night she died. She often checked in with Will before she left the hotel. Did he have anything to do with her death? That’s a lot more serious than stealing, he realized. Was Will as freaked out as he was? He does seem on edge, Ned observed. Somehow, as delicately as possible, I will have to bring up the topic of the antique leis with his parents. Everyone at the hotel was talking about the auction. In all likelihood Almetta Brown would have a hard time keeping any information she had about the lei under her hat.

“It’s so lovely that you’ll be our tour guide this afternoon, Ned,” Almetta said, batting her eyes. She had on a floral top with matching shorts and a pair of little white sneakers. Bingsley had on khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. Ned was relieved that no bathing suits were in sight.

“It’s my pleasure,” Ned replied. “How about going out in one of the sailboats we have out there? There’s a beautiful breeze. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“I’d be enchanted,” Almetta chirped. “We both would. Right, dear?” she asked, turning to Bingsley, whose face was impassive to say the least.

“It sounds all right,” he answered. “But I want to get in a nap before tonight. I’m beat.”

“Dad, you’ll have time for that later,” Will said. “I just wanted you to get some fresh air. And if you take a swim, you’ll perk up.”

Ned led them down to the water, and they boarded a small sailboat. The Browns sat and enjoyed the fresh ocean air and sunshine while Ned did the busy work of a sailor. There was a steady breeze that helped propel the boat past the surfers and swimmers and out into the aqua waters. Almetta peppered Ned with nonstop questions.

“Where are you from, Ned?” she asked, leaning forward with a big smile on her face.

“All over,” he answered. “I’m an army brat.”

“How marvelous. You must have lived in very interesting places. Did you ever live in Hawaii when you were a child?”

She’s playing with my head, Ned thought. “No,” he lied. Time to change the subject. “Are you excited about the ball tonight?”

“I can’t wait,” Almetta enthused.

“Those leis-that’s some story, huh? They were made for two members of the Hawaiian royal family. One gets stolen. They keep appearing and disappearing and reappearing again.”

Almetta coughed slightly. “It certainly is something.” She looked out at the water and went silent, which made Ned nervous.

“I have to use the head,” Bingsley declared quickly. He got up and stumbled slightly, stepping on Ned’s bad foot.

Ned winced. The nerves in his sore toe were screaming. Bingsley wasn’t a small guy.

“I’m so sorry,” Bingsley apologized as he kept walking toward the loo.

“Are you all right?” Almetta inquired with great concern, staring down at Ned’s foot, just as she had thirty years before. “That must hurt. Oh, look! Do I see a little bit of blood staining the top of your shoe? Why don’t you take it off and dip your feet in the salt water?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Ned insisted.

Almetta looked up at him and didn’t say a word.

But she had a funny look on her face.

I n the festively decorated ballroom, reporters were swarming all over Regan. Reports of the kidnapping and attempted murder of the lovely, young, recently engaged couple had headlined all the evening newscasts.

“The twins haven’t confessed to killing Dorinda Dawes, have they, Regan?” asked a reporter from a local TV station.

“No. But that’s not surprising. They’re waiting for their lawyer from Hudville to arrive. We know that they are capable of murder, so why wouldn’t they lie?”

The five remaining members of the Lucky Seven were in shock and had spent the afternoon on and off the phone with the folks back home.

“Can you believe it?”

“I knew they were being cheap, but this is beyond belief.”

“Sal Hawkins must be rolling in his grave.”

Betsy and Bob had abandoned their exciting relationship chapter and had started to write a book about their travels with the evil twins.

Francie, Artie, and Joy were determined to live it up and spend money for the remainder of their trip. Joy had decided to come to the ball and leave Zeke and his wanderlust in the dust. In the last several hours the Hudville group had turned into a bunch of mini celebrities. It was suddenly more fun to hang around with them. “And I’m the one,” Joy kept repeating, “who knew that Gert and Ev were cheating us!”

Carla and Jason were up in their room recovering, their arms wrapped around each other as they lay on the bed. Carla had already talked to her mother about six times and all of her bridesmaids at least once.