With the man following them, would she have to forgo seeing the Miracle Windows up above in Trinity Chapel at the very front of the cathedral? The exquisitely beautiful stained glass had been created in the late twelfth century and told stories of people who’d been healed by drinking the holy water at Canterbury Cathedral.
She’d once believed people in the Middle Ages had contrived such tales to entertain themselves. Like the one about Adam the Forester, who’d been shot in the neck by a poacher trying to steal a deer from the king’s forest. The first scene in the stained glass depicted Adam with the arrow sticking out of his neck. In the next scene, Adam was lying in bed drinking holy water containing Becket’s blood. In the concluding roundel, Adam stood healed, giving his thanks at Becket’s tomb.
Now after everything she’d learned from her dad’s research, she was anxious to see the stained glass windows again—windows that immortalized the healing quality of the holy water. Did they testify to the power of the ultimate cure more than anyone truly understood?
They worked their way around the crypt only to find that the stalker had positioned himself near the ramp, blocking their exit. Did he suspect she had items in her purse and intend to grab it again?
“How are we going to get out of here?” she whispered.
“Bojing is pulling up.” Harrison and Drake exchanged a look filled with a gravity that sent a chill through Marian. “Get on to the nave and exit through the door in the southwest transept.”
They were standing in front of the stairway that led up to the main floor of the cathedral. “I’m not leaving you down here by yourself.”
“Once you head up, I’m quite certain the unwelcome riffraff will abandon his post. And I’ll be out in a jiffy.”
Because the stalker would be pursuing her. She tried not to shudder at the thought.
“Marian love, promise you’ll go directly out?”
She cut him off with a curt nod. “I’ll do it, so long as you promise you’ll get out safely.”
“I’ll manage fine.” Harrison squeezed her hand. “Now go.”
She didn’t waste any more time with platitudes or assessing the plan. The fact was, her dad was risking his life for this venture, and now she needed to do her part.
Swallowing her trepidation, she lunged up the steps, taking them two at a time with Drake’s footsteps clamping behind her. When she reached the top, she didn’t pause but dodged sightseers, darted past tour guides, and dashed across the nave toward the outer door, the exit sign guiding her.
A shout echoed through the lofty openness of the cathedral. She glanced behind Drake to see the stalker in the black leather jacket along with another man. They’d spotted her and Drake and were starting after them.
Even though the grandeur and majesty of the ancient church always astounded her, she couldn’t stop to take it in. Her heart thudded a warning that she had to keep going, that her dad’s research was at stake.
The sharp popping of gunfire echoed in the air. Why were her stalkers shooting? To intimidate her into stopping? Clearly they didn’t want her to leave without the chance to confront her.
Her body tensed. Any second she might feel the stinging bite of a bullet entering her back. But she ducked her head and kept running. Her footsteps slapped hard against the tile. Her breathing grew more ragged.
An ancient-looking door loomed ahead. She was almost there.
More shots rang out.
She cringed and hunkered lower. With a final burst of energy, she threw open the door. Late-day sunlight blinded her for only a second before she caught sight of the Bentley waiting at the curb, the door open, Bojing sitting in the front seat, hands already tightly gripping the wheel.
“Faster!” Drake’s voice called out behind her, and she found herself being swept along with his hunched frame shielding her. When they reached the car, he none-too-gently threw her inside before lunging in and slamming the door behind him.
Bojing stomped on the gas, and the tires pealed as he raced away. Several bullets pinged against the car. One hit the back window, cracking the glass and leaving a shattered web.
Drake yanked her down and covered her body with his.
The car careened back and forth at top speed, and Marian struggled to hang on to the seat and not slide onto the floor. A few moments later, when the Bentley steadied, Drake cautiously lifted himself and peered out the back window. She raised her head and began to sit up, but he pushed her back down. “Stay low.”
Something dripped onto the seat by her face. At first, against the black leather, she couldn’t tell what it was. But then she rose to her elbows and examined Drake, taking in the bright crimson darkening his coat sleeve. “You’ve been shot.”
He watched out the back window, his face a mask of determination. “Just a surface wound, miss. Nothin’ to be fretting about.”
The bullet could have killed Drake. Or her. At the thought, her blood turned to ice, and her breath froze in her chest. Suddenly, she wished she wasn’t in Canterbury and was instead home in Connecticut, safe in her lab, doing her work in isolation and oblivion.
What had she gotten herself into?
She tried to gasp in a breath. But the car jerked again. “Hold tight!” Bojing shouted in a clipped Asian accent. “We’ve got company!” Beneath her, she could feel the car accelerating, swaying back and forth as Bojing took one turn after another at death-defying speeds. As with when he’d helped her escape the thief outside the bank, she didn’t know how he could see out the front windshield, much less maneuver the car so swiftly. But he seemed to know what he was doing. Or at least she prayed he did.
She finally peeked up to find that they were flying down a country road. “Aren’t we planning to get Harrison?”
Neither Drake nor Bojing answered.
Dread pooled in her stomach. “Please tell me another driver picked him up at the crypt. Or that he’s catching a cab.”
Drake stared straight ahead, his face pale and taut. Bojing shook his head.
She leaned back, fighting a wave of panic. “Did something happen to him?”
Bojing glanced at his side mirror. “I had to circle around for a few minutes to get them off my tail. By the time I made it back to the north entrance, I didn’t see him there. Only his wheelchair.”
“Oh no! Do you think they kidnapped him?”
“Looks like it.”
She drew in a sharp breath, her lungs suddenly tight with the need to weep.
The gates of Chesterfield Park loomed ahead. They were already open, and the instant Bojing crossed through them, they began to swing shut.
As they closed with a resounding clang, she had the desperate urge to turn around. How could she hide inside when Harrison was in danger?
She raked her gaze from Bojing to Drake and back as the car halted in front of the manor entrance. “You need to go back and look for him.”
Drake opened the door, winced, then stepped out and began to round the car.
“We can’t leave him at the mercy of those people,” she said loudly enough for both men to hear.
Her door jerked open, and Drake reached for her.
“We have to do something.” She held herself back. “We can’t just let them take Harrison.” But what could they do except call the police and report the incident? Hopefully, the cathedral constable had already done so.