Broken Chain Part Three: Entrapment: Broken Chain, #3

By Sandi Plewis

A fast-moving small-town family story in the tradition of Mary Higgins Clark.

It would be foolish to underestimate Lizzy Baker. 

It’s 1970. Brody has stayed away from Lizzy for two years and she is determined to lure him back. Clever and devious, Lizzy understands small town politics of the time. She also knows how to manipulate the people in Brody’s life. 

Danny Pringle, the owner of the general store, has health problems. Brody has abandoned his grocery route in order to help him out. While larger towns and cities now embrace department store chains, Pringle’s General Store still services Granger’s Crossing, selling everything from local produce to farm supplies. It’s convenient for Brody to leave his old grocery truck parked behind the building to gather rust – it gives him a reason to avoid Lizzy Baker’s farm.  

 Yet Brody still struggles with his disturbing attraction to Lizzy. He doesn’t understand it, especially when Lizzy is the one person in his life who eludes his psychic perceptions person who ruthlessly betrayed him. In spite of his resolution to avoid her, Lizzy’s magnetic pull draws him closer.

Brody’s empathic ability has increased. When he’s confronted with fear or hatred from other people, the feelings are so powerful that the associated pain is crippling. He’s convinced that he’s losing his mind, especially when his recurring nightmares won’t let him rest. A vague danger hovers over Tricia Porter and Brody can’t reason away his concern for her.

Unknown to Brody, Tricia is constantly seeing the ghost of her aunt, even during her waking moments. Something happened to the woman, something terrifying, and Tricia’s sleep is as fitful as Brody’s. Brody tries to shield her from his turmoil by pushing her out of his life, leaving Tricia with no one to turn to except her brother Taylor. Yet Taylor has troubles of his own and they’re growing larger every day.

Broken Chain: Entrapment is the third part of the Broken Chain Saga.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandi Plewis
• Release date: Jan 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386562436

Book preview

For Gary

Chapter Twenty-Four

Fall 1970

Lizzy missed Brody but, more than this, she needed him. And she cursed herself for it. Lizzy had no respect for weak females. Normally she knew how to keep her balance as life tried to kick her feet out from underneath her. Ned Tate had taught her well, back when Lizzy was twelve years old.

Having Ned for a step-father had toughened her up, made her sharp witted. Initially he’d shove her or slap her across the face, saying that it was his job to smarten her up. You gotta learn some respect, he told her. Like it or not, I married your mom. So you watch your mouth.

Barely a year after he’d moved in, the assaults changed. Ned started touching her if Lizzy’s mother wasn’t around to see him. When Lizzy fought him off, he’d usually slap her. Then he’d back away, for a while.

Her mother finally caught him. She’d come home early from a shopping trip to find Ned and Lizzy in the living room. He’d been behind Lizzy, his arm wrapped around her neck and his hand shoved beneath her sweater. Before her mother could react, Lizzy bit him. Ned screeched and released her.

As he stood there, pressing his hand against his sore arm, Lizzy’s mother ordered, Leave this house! If you don’t, I’ll get the cops to throw you out.

Ned agreed far too easily. Never should have gotten mixed up with you and your kid in the first place, he said as he walked out the door.

I took care of it this time, her mother told Lizzy after Ned got into his car and drove off. But you watch your step from now on. I won’t always be around to protect you, so quit flaunting yourself.

Ned Tate had been good-looking and successful. He’d owned his own real estate business in Stratford. A couple of months later, he stole a rich client from one of his associates. Enraged, the associate visited Lizzy’s mother to inform her that Ned had been cheating on her—with more than one woman. Lizzy was there to hear all of it. Ned told me that he was bored with you and fed up with your daughter, the man said. You’re better off without the jerk.

Lizzy’s mother didn’t see it the same way. When Ned wasn’t there to pay their debts anymore, their money ran out. She could only find a job as a cleaning lady, working in stores and office buildings after the staff went home for the night. Even though she didn’t come right out and blame Lizzy, she’d often snap at her or ignore her.

From the age of twelve to eighteen, Lizzy was left to take care of herself. Then Randy Baker came along. Lizzy worked in an all-night diner, even though the establishment didn’t live up to this claim. After two o’clock in the morning, the doors would be locked and the shades drawn. At one time the place had lofty ambitions, banking on the Toronto tourists for their late night clientele. But they’d soon discovered that Stratford, Ontario shrivelled up like a forgotten apple core after midnight.

Randy and a group of his friends often drove from Granger’s Crossing to Stratford, when they’d grown tired of lingering around the bar in Kinsley or shooting pool. They’d sometimes take in a movie then sample one of Stratford’s hotel bars, before dropping into the diner for coffees to sober them up. Randy was twenty-one years old when Lizzy first saw him—his body muscular yet slim, his blond hair practically bleached white by the summer sun, his brown eyes sparking. In those days, he’d laughed easily and often.

Lizzy had plunged into love so quickly. So had he. They were married before they had time to know each other. For Lizzy, he’d been this carefree guy living a simple life in the country, a life that seemed so much better than her own.

Her mother had expected Lizzy to help her. She told Lizzy to ask Randy for money so they could pay some of the overdue bills.

It’s the least you can do, her mother had said. If it wasn’t for you, Ned would still be here.

The accusing words would always follow Lizzy. Instead of getting the money, Lizzy had walked away from her mother. They hadn’t spoken in years.

Her childhood had hardened her, but at the start of her marriage, there had still been some tenderness inside her. In those days, she’d actually been in love with Randy. He was a charmer. Randy knew how to cater to a crowd; overly polite with women and the friendly jokester with men. Everyone liked him. It made Lizzy proud.

On the day when Randy packed her possessions into the trunk of his car, Lizzy’s mother had followed them to the front porch. She’d called out to Randy, Don’t ever say I didn’t warn you.

Lizzy asked him about the warning after they pulled away from the house. I don’t remember, Randy said. I didn’t pay any attention to her.

She’d believed him, until the warning began to inflame his thoughts, like a scrape that was barely noticed until infection set in. It wasn’t long before she realized that Randy was suspicious. More than suspicious—paranoid. He started to imagine affairs, told the men at the pool hall that she’d cheated on him more than once. Lizzy enjoyed a good time, liked to flirt and soak up attention, but that’s as far as it went. Back then. But Randy was a homegrown boy and the moral busybodies in Granger’s Crossing lapped up his stories.

The truth was, before Brody, Lizzy had only been involved with one other guy and it was a brief encounter. Jeff Addison had barely been nineteen years of age. He’d worked with her husband one summer, helping him out with the harvest after Randy got drunk and provoked a fist fight in Kinsley. Randy had ended up with his arm, and his ego, in a sling.

Lizzy caught Jeff eyeing her as she dished up his lunch or delivered a thermos of cold lemonade out to the fields. Randy called the boy pal or buddy, sat with him after their chores were finished and drank beer, spouted off one joke after another. Jeff wasn’t overly attractive. He was tall and muscular, but his forehead was too broad and his nose overwhelmed his face. Still, Randy liked him. That was all the encouragement Lizzy needed. By then, her husband had found reasons to hit her, usually after he accused her of whoring around.

If I’m gonna be shot, it might as well be for a dollar instead of a penny, she’d told Jeff.

He’d grinned at her after she said it, but she had the feeling that he didn’t understand what she meant. Randy had gone into town that day. She’d made love to Jeff in the upstairs loft of the barn, the loose hay scratching her skin.

Jeff might not be all that bright, Randy told her a week later, but he’s a good worker. Good friend too. Helpful. Loyal.

They’d been eating dinner when he said it. Lizzy had to raise her napkin to her mouth to hide a smirk.

She quickly grew bored with the boy. With the crops harvested and Randy’s arm free from the cast, Jeff found work on a farm in the next county and moved on. She hadn’t thought about him in ages.

Initially, Brody Rivers had been just another act of defiance. But by then, Lizzy was longing for a baby to ease her loneliness. She knew it would be tricky. Randy would probably go on a rampage to find the father. God only knew what would happen to her.

It should have frightened her into letting the idea dissolve. Instead, it grew. She had no power in her marriage. All she could do was play the role of submissive wife when Randy was home and try not to provoke him. It was an empty life and it dragged her down. Yet Randy often said that, if she tried to end the marriage, she’d leave in a hearse. But Randy couldn’t control her when his back was turned.

Now, Brody refused to even glance at her.

She actually thought of telling him the truth, of revealing exactly what took place on the night when Randy died, but she didn’t know if it would make a difference. Perhaps, if she’d told him when it first happened, he might have understood. At the time, self-defence sounded so much better—less cold-blooded.

Brody had known that she was planning something, probably even had a suspicion of what that would be. Lizzy chose not to tell him the details until she had everything figured out. When he came to her and said that he couldn’t go along with her plans if they involved murder, Lizzy swore at him. She said she’d do it herself. He’d stared at her like she was some strange object that had washed up on shore. Then he’d looked away quickly.

Yet when it finally unfolded, when her husband’s body lay on the kitchen floor in front of her, Lizzy needed his help. So she’d lied to him. Then she’d lied to him again, two months later.

Maybe Brody had been right. When it came right down to it, killing Randy wasn’t so easy. If she didn’t have Jamie, he might still be alive.

When Randy had first come into their room that night, he’d stumbled up against the end of the bed. It was midnight. He’d been at the Kinsley Pool Hall again. Randy laughed and the stench of alcohol filtered through the air. Lizzy sat up in bed and squinted into the darkness.

Hey there, sweetheart, he slurred. You sleeping alone tonight?

He bumped the end table and cursed, loudly.

Randy, come to bed and sleep it off, Lizzy whispered. She figured that he’d wake Jamie and she’d be up for an hour trying to settle the child down again.

Randy had other plans. He switched on the light and sat down on the edge of the bed. Then he reached out and cupped her chin in his hand, his fingers closing around her jaw.

I heard somethin’ interestin’ in the pool hall tonight, Lizzy. Wanna know what it was?

She watched him cautiously, staring into his reddened eyes without answering.

Sure you do, he continued. Seein’ that it has somethin’ to do with that boyfriend of yours.

Lizzy tensed but managed to keep her face blank. "I don’t know what