Devonshire Scream Read Free

minutes all told.
    Just as suddenly as they’d begun, one of the robbers, the one who’d released the smoke bomb, yelled, “Time!” and they all jumped back into the black SUV.
    They floored the vehicle and, like an Indy car in reverse, shot back out of the shop into the street. There were more loud revving sounds, almost like the scream of a motorcycle, and then a screech of tires on pavement.
    Theodosia had been holding her breath, one hand clutching Haley. When she heard the SUV take off, she half stood and looked over the counter.
    People were crying and coughing and moaning softly. Hunks of jagged glass lay everywhere, as if a giant kaleidoscope had exploded. A few larger pieces reflected the red-green of the stoplight down on the corner and the neon lights from the Red Peppercorn Grill across the street.
    â€œIs it over?” Haley asked. Her voice was hoarse and shaky.
    â€œYes, but stay where you are.” Theodosia could hear the faint wail of sirens several blocks away. An alarm had been triggered, or someone had dared to call 911 on their cell phone. Help was on the way, thank goodness.
    Across the shop, Brooke scrambled to her feet, her eyes wild with fear, her body shaking uncontrollably. “Is anybody hurt?”
    Loud moans and cries rang out in response.
    â€œI’m cut.”
    â€œThere are slivers in my hand.”
    â€œPlease help me.”
    The sound of sirens was growing closer, Theodosia thought. Now they were just two or three blocks away.
    â€œThe police are coming,” Theodosia called out over the screams, trying to sound braver than she actually felt. “There will be ambulances, EMTs to help all of you. Just stay where you are and try not to move.” She figured the EMTs were the pros; they’d know how to triage the wounded. As far as everything else—the stolen jewels—that would just have to wait. The injured guests took precedence now.
    â€œKaitlin?” Brooke called out. She was hunting frantically for her niece. “Honey, where are you?”
    â€œShe’s over here,” a man cried out. “I think she’s hurt pretty bad.”
    Brooke staggered her way across the front of the store, glass crunching underfoot as she tried not to step on the injured guests or fall headlong into the jagged, empty cases.
    â€œKaitlin?” Brooke called again as she finally reached her niece, who was lying prone on the floor. She bent down over Kaitlin’s body. “Honey, I’m here.” Her voice was ragged and tight with fear. Her hand reached out and gently touched Kaitlin’s face. Then her voice rose in a strangled gargle. “Kaitlin?”
    Theodosia, sensing disaster, began to pick her way toward Brooke and Kaitlin.
    â€œDon’t touch her,” Theodosia warned. “The ambulances are here.” Red and blue lights strobed out in the street. “Let them . . .”
    Brooke was bent over Kaitlin now, clutching her and sobbing uncontrollably.
    â€œBrooke.” Theodosia’s voice was a sharp bark, trying to get through to her friend. “Don’t move her. Let the EMTs take care of her.”
    But Brooke would have none of it. Lifting Kaitlin’s head, she gently pushed back her hair to reveal a daggerlike hunk of glass embedded in the girl’s throat. Kaitlin’s eyes had rolled back until only the whites were visible. She was no longer breathing. The poor girl was gone.
    Brooke’s scream rose in a pitch-perfect high C that melded with the blaring sirens of the police cruisers and ambulances that had finally arrived on the scene.

2

    It was a catastrophe of epic proportions. Kaitlin dead, countless people injured, all the jewelry stolen, and Brooke’s shop left in ruins.
    How could this happen? Theodosia wondered as she watched a half-dozen EMTs and a dozen uniformed officers pour into the shop. One minute they’d all been sipping tea and gazing serenely at