The Evil That Men Do by Steve Rollins Page A

crazy, and even if she was, she’s tiny.”
    “Joseph Cavanaugh? Maybe he knew about it. He was trying to court Madeline Frome after all,” said Riley. “She must have worn it around him—yes she did! Remember when we first saw him, when Mrs. Frome was chewing him out before I…”
    “Before you repossessed his car,” Roberta finished. Riley shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t feel good about that, seeing how Cavanaugh ended up killing himself. Or being murdered, her thoughts reminded her.
    “Yeah, that.” Riley moved on. “So, Cavanaugh knew about the diamond… wait a minute. Cavanaugh!”
    “He’s dead, Riley.”
    “Not senior, Cavanaugh Junior! Think about it. The Cavanaughs were broke. If that woman Cheryl I spoke to was right, the son had lost his job and they were desperate for cash. Why would anyone be so keen on wooing Madeline Frome? She hates everyone, not to mention is a total racist, but at least she seemed rich! Little did old man Cavanaugh know that she was almost as broke as he was, apart from the Rock of Rhodesia. I think Joseph didn’t even want to court her in the first place, but his son forced him into it, and when he couldn’t win Frome over…” Riley trailed off. It made sense, when taking the body of Marcos Rubera into account. Even so, the idea that Joe Cavanaugh killing his own father… that was surely too far for any man. Wasn’t it?
    “We need to get over there, now. If Joe Cavanaugh has Ricki, has already butchered one man and possibly strangled his father, the odds aren’t in her favor.”
    Riley nodded, and despite their protesting, tired limbs, they ran away from Marcos Rubera’s decomposing body, hoping to prevent the same terrible fate coming to their sister.

 
    Chapter Thirteen
    Ricki
     
    She came to again, passed out again. Came to hours later.
    After seeing her captor’s face, he had beaten her savagely. She had lost another tooth to go with the one she had broken herself falling to the floor, and she was sure his heavy blow had cracked a rib or two. He had used a piece of finished wood, possibly a part of a flat packed chest of drawers or other such furniture. It had hurt in any case and it had been nothing short of a blessing when the wood splintered and broke on her shoulder and Joe Cavanaugh had to stop. He had left soon afterward, leaving Ricki to her pain and confusion.
    She blacked out once more, and woke up with blood staining the front of her shirt, soaking it. Perhaps Cavanaugh had come back and cut her throat, she thought, then realized that if he had done that, she would most likely be already dead. Someone was fumbling with what sounded like a chain somewhere close. She looked toward the noise, but remembered that she was still blindfolded. She tried to call for help, but found her throat so parched and mouth too caked with her own blood that only a rasping gurgle came out. She heard voices outside, but she must have been hallucinating. They couldn’t have found her; it was impossible.
    “We could use a crowbar; twist it until the lock breaks?” one voice said.
    “No, haven’t got one in the truck. Hold on, stand back. I’m going to try blasting it,” said the other.
    Ricki tried shouting again, but her feeble speech was drowned out by what sounded like a colossal explosion. The door of the shack she was held in blew off its hinges—or at least, it sounded like it had. The noise was so loud, Ricki’s ears rang and her head spun, and they were still useless. All of a sudden she was no longer blind, and was staring into her own deep brown eyes. No, not her own, her little sister’s eyes. Riley was crouched in front of her, untying her hands from the arms of the wooden chair. She was speaking to her but Ricki couldn’t hear. She tried telling her so, but was unable to do so. A water bottle pressed to her lips, bringing back hellish memories of Joe doing the same thing. Ricki went into a brief spasm at the thought, but was calmed by the