"Yes, but—" Ellie wanted to say that they needed more of a strategy, more of a plan, but Baxter was already dragging her back inside. He pushed her through the door to the inner room, and she stumbled onto the bed. "I'm feeling much better now," she announced.

Cecil grunted something about not caring, but Charles regarded her thoughtfully. Ellie shot him a quick smile before looking back to Baxter, trying to remind him that he needed to speak with Riley.

But Riley had other ideas. "I gotta go, too," he announced, and he lumbered off. Ellie glared at Baxter, but he didn't follow Riley. Maybe he thought it would look too suspicious for him to go so soon after coming back with Ellie.

After a minute or so, however, they heard a terrible commotion from outside the cottage. Everyone jumped to their feet, except Charles, who was tied up, and Baxter, who was already standing.

"What the hell is going on?" Cecil demanded.

Baxter shrugged.

Ellie's hand flew to her mouth. Oh God, Riley didn't know that he was working for her now, and if he'd found Helen or Leavey outside ...

"Riley!" Cecil yelled.

All of Ellie's worst fears were realized when Riley thundered back into the room, holding Helen close to his body, a knife pressed against her throat. "Look what I found!" he cackled.

"Helen?" Cecil said, looking amused.

"Cecil?" Helen didn't look amused at all.

"Baxter!" Ellie shouted in a panicked voice. He needed to let Riley know the change in plans now. She watched in horror as Cecil sidled up next to Helen and yanked her next to him. His back was to Ellie, however, and she used his inattention to grab one of the pistols strapped to her legs and hide it under the folds of her skirt.

"Helen, you really shouldn't have come," Cecil said, his voice practically a croon.

"Baxter, tell him now." Ellie yelled.

Cecil whirled around to face her. "Tell who what?"

Ellie didn't even stop to think. She whipped up the pistol, cocked it, and pulled the trigger. The explosion jolted her clear up to her shoulder and knocked her back to the bed.

Cecil's face was a picture of surprise as he clutched his chest near his collarbone. Blood seeped through his fingers. "You bitch," he hissed. He raised his gun.

"Nooooo!" Charles yelled, pitching forward from his chair and hurling himself at Cecil. His aim wasn't good, but he managed to hit his cousin in the legs, and Cecil's arm was thrown up in the air before he pulled the trigger.

Ellie felt a burst of pain in her arm as she heard Helen scream her name. "Oh my God," she whispered in shock. "He shot me." Then her shock was replaced by anger. "He shot me!" she exclaimed. She looked up just in time to see Cecil readjusting his aim on Charles. Before Ellie even had time to think, she reached down with her good arm, grabbed her other pistol, and fired it at Cecil.

Silence fell over the room, and this time there was no doubt that he was dead.

Riley was still holding a knife to Helen's throat, but now he looked like he didn't know what to do with her. Finally Baxter said, "Let 'er go, Riley."

"What?"

"I said let her go."

Riley dropped his knife arm and Helen ran to Ellie's side.

"Oh, Ellie," Helen cried out. "Are you badly hurt?"

Ellie ignored her and glared at Baxter. "A fat lot of good you were."

"I told Riley to let 'er go, didn't I?"

She scowled at him. "If you want to earn your pay, at least go and untie my husband."

"Ellie," Helen said, "let me look at your arm."

Ellie looked down at where her hand clutched her wound. "I can't," she whispered. If she let go, then the blood would start pouring out, and ...

Helen tugged at her fingers. "Please, Ellie. I must see how serious the wound is."

Ellie whimpered and said, "No, I can't. You see, when I see my own blood ..."

But Helen had already pried Ellie's fingers from her arm. "There now," Helen said. "It's not so bad. Ellie? Ellie?"

Ellie had already fainted.

* * *

"Who would have thought," Helen said several hours later, when Ellie was comfortably settled in her own bed, "that Ellie would have turned out to be so squeamish?"

"Certainly not I," Charles replied, lovingly smoothing a lock of hair from his wife's forehead. "After all, she put a row of stitches in my arm that would set any seamstress to shame."

"You don't need to talk as if I'm not here," Ellie said peevishly. "Cecil shot me in the arm, not the ear."

At the mention of Cecil's name, Charles felt a now-familiar rush of rage. It would be some time before he would be able to look back upon the events of this day without shaking in fury.

He had sent someone out to collect Cecil's body, although he hadn't really decided what he was going to do with it. Charles certainly wasn't going to allow him to be buried with the rest of the Wycombe family.

Baxter and Riley had been paid and sent on their way after Riley showed them where he'd left poor Leavey, who hadn't even had a moment to scream before Riley had clubbed him over the head and grabbed Helen.

His attention was on Ellie, and on making certain her gunshot wound wasn't any more serious than she'd claimed. The bullet didn't seem to have hit any major vessels or bones, although Charles had had the scare of his life when Ellie had passed out.

He patted his wife on her good arm. "All that matters is that you are healthy. Dr. Summers says that with a few days of bed rest you should be as good as new. And he also said that it's quite common to faint at the sight of blood."