Deadly Communications by Lillian Duncan Page A

the light switch.
    Maven swung the golf club at his head. At the same time, Ella pushed him down the steps. They ran through the doorway.
    Maven slammed the door shut and locked it. “We’ll drive straight to the police station. I don’t want to spend one extra minute here.”
    Ella nodded.
    Holding Ella’s hand, Maven moved towards the sliding glass door.
    “What was all the noise?” Donald Junior walked into the room.
    It had never occurred to Maven that Ella meant Donald Junior when she’d said brother.
    “Ella, where are you going? What are you doing?”
    Ella dropped Maven’s hand and then signed. Go. Run.
    It was their only chance.
    Maven hesitated, not willing to leave Ella behind.
    “Don’t even think about it. There’s nowhere to run to.” His eyes burned as he aimed his gun at Maven.
    Ella signed run once more, and then stepped in front of Maven just as Donald Junior fired.
    “No!” he screamed.
    Ella crumpled to the floor. Her shirt turned red.
    Donald Junior dropped the gun and rushed to his sister. “Ella, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shoot you. It was an accident.”
    Maven ran out the door and into the darkness. Ella needed an ambulance. Not all the houses were summer homes. Surely, she could find someone to help.
    The first house she came to looked abandoned. She looked back.
    A dark shadow ran across the field.
    Please, God, Ella needs help. Help me run faster to get help for her…please, God…
    Lights ahead.
    Maven sucked in a lungful of air and screamed.
    He slammed into her, and she crumpled to the ground. His hands went around her throat and squeezed.
    She fought, grasping at his arms, clawing at his hands. She choked, unable to breathe.
    “You gonna shut up?”
    She nodded.
    The pressure on her throat eased up. He pulled her up and dragged her towards the house. “You’re gonna pay for the golf club. When I kill you, I’m going to make sure you suffer.” He shoved her inside.
    Donald Junior still knelt beside Ella, holding a cloth to her shoulder. He looked up at Maven. “I didn’t mean to shoot her. I never meant to hurt her. I just needed her to promise not to tell what she saw. Why did you have to show up? You messed everything up.”
    “Don’t blame me for this. You take responsibility for your own actions.”
    “You have no idea what it’s like to be Donald Junior. The golden child. The one who has to be perfect all the time.”
    “Well, golden child, are you going to let your sister bleed to death?” Maven was too scared to tread softly.
    Donald Junior’s face changed, his expression lost, hopeless. He looked down at Ella and then at the other man. “We need to get her to a hospital.”
    “Not going to happen. It’s not my problem that you shot her. I was willing to play it your way, but that’s all changed now. They both need to die.”
    “She’s my sister.”
    “Again, that’s not my problem. It’s time for this mess to be over.” The man aimed the gun at Maven.
    Donald Junior stood up. “I’m not going to let you kill her or anyone else. This is over.”
    “I’m the one with the gun, remember?”
    “Luckily, you’re not the only one with a gun.” Paul walked around the corner, gun aimed at the gunman. “Put it down and we’ll all get out of this alive. “
    “I’ll shoot.” Panic flashed in the man’s eyes.
    “If you do, you die. Is that really what you want?” Paul’s voice was firm, his expression hard.
    Maven stared at Paul, amazed at his transformation from easy-going neighbor to a no-nonsense policeman.
    The man laid the gun on the floor and put his hands in the air.
    “Get the gun, Maven, and call 911 for an ambulance and the police.”
    Maven shuddered as she laid the weapon on the table. Her phone was right there. She punched in the numbers, wondering how Paul had managed to be here, to save her, and Ella. It can only be You, God…
    Paul moved to the gunman and handcuffed him.
    Donald Junior turned with his hands behind his