by Jane Godman
He swung around. “She was here, with Kasey.”
“You think he could have them?” Trey asked.
“I don’t want to take that chance.” Rylan tried to keep his thoughts on track. “Papadum. Of course.” He headed toward the door.
“Pardon?” Although Trey followed him, his expression was bemused.
“My dog. You’ve seen him. He’s unmistakable. Bree had him with her. Someone will have seen him and noticed where they went.”
When they reached the gallery, Rylan headed toward the group of school kids, who were just packing up. He approached the teacher. “Is it okay if I ask a quick question?”
Her eyes flicked to Trey, taking in the uniform and badge. “I guess so.”
Rylan took up a position where he could be seen by all the kids. “Guys, did any of you just see a dog that looks like a giant mop?” There was a ripple of laughter and a chorus of shouts. Since the little girl nearest to him was jumping up and down on the spot, trying to get his attention, Rylan turned to her. “Where’d he go?”
“He was with two ladies and a man in uniform.” She pointed to the door that led to the basement. “They went through there.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
Rylan drew Trey toward the entrance to the basement. “This didn’t have a lock last time I was here. Why would David close this door and lock himself in with Bree and Kasey?”
Trey stood back, eying the door. “It looks strong, but between the two of us we could kick it down.”
“And let him know we’re coming so he has time to kill them both?” Rylan shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
He’d been in enough hostage situations to appreciate the need for caution. They didn’t know for sure what they were dealing with. Didn’t even know that David had the two women in the basement, or that he was holding them against their will.
He dismissed the idea of calling Bree. If she was in the clutches of her stalker, the situation was volatile. He didn’t want to risk startling or antagonizing a dangerous man who had repeatedly threatened to harm her.
“Is there another way in?” Trey asked.
“I don’t know. But I know how to find out,” Rylan said. “I have a plan of the building on my laptop. You stay here while I check it out.”
“Okay.” Trey’s face was grim. “But I’m calling for backup, and if I hear a sound that leads me to believe that my sister is in danger, that door is firewood.”
“Goes without saying.”
Rylan sprinted through to the promotions office. Through the glass facade, he could see the school kids getting onto their bus. Evacuating the building was probably a good idea.
He leaned across the reception desk. “Get everyone out of here. Tell them it’s for unscheduled maintenance.”
The receptionist blinked but responded to his air of authority with a nod. As he opened his laptop, he could hear the front desk staff following his instructions. Once he had the plan of the gallery on the screen, he enlarged the basement area. There. On the outside of the building, at street level, there was what appeared to be a set of double trapdoors. There was a note alongside it that read Original delivery chute. Preserved but no longer in use.
His mind was jumping several steps ahead as he left the office and called Trey, relaying what he’d discovered.
“If the chute is not in use, it will have been secured to prevent unlawful entry,” Trey said.
“Don’t worry about that.” Rylan was already on his way out to the parking lot to get his bolt cutters. It was probably better for the sheriff’s peace of mind if he didn’t know about the various pieces of equipment that Rylan kept in the trunk of his car.
“I don’t like the idea of you going in there alone.” Trey’s tone held all the caution Rylan would expect to hear from a law enforcement officer.
“Trust me. I am the best person to do this.” Rylan wasn’t being boastful. This was his area of expertise. Going into the unknown, facing a volatile offender, rescuing hostages... They were all situations he’d been in before. Having snagged up the bolt cutters, he was on the move toward the trapdoor entry to the basement. “Just be ready to come through that door fast.”
“My deputies will be here any minute with the battering ram and pry tools,” Trey said.
When Rylan reached them, the double trapdoors were larger than he’d expected. Made of heavy wood, they were flush with the surrounding sidewalk. He pursed his lips as he studied them. Squatting, he verified his first impression. There was no need for the bolt cutters. The doors weren’t locked.
Unsure what to make of this new development, but unable to spend time analyzing it, he stashed his bolt cutters behind a nearby bush. The doors opened easily, almost as if the old iron hinges had recently been oiled. When he had them both fully open, Rylan knelt on the sidewalk, leaning into the opening.
The metal delivery chute was long and steep, and he couldn’t see the other end. There was a pulley system alongside, presumably for lifting larger items from below. Ducking his head farther into the gap, he attempted to identify any sounds from the basement. Either there were none, or they were hidden by the thick walls of the old building.
Lowering himself into the space, he gripped the sides of the chute. Using his powerful leg muscles to stop himself from hurtling downward like a toddler on a playground ride, he descended slowly into the darkness.
His facial muscles were rigid with tension, his pulse pounding hard in his ears. Cold sweat beaded on his furrowed brow. He knew why. As a soldier, he had been in dozens of combat situations. Since leaving the army, he had faced danger many times, and in many different forms. This was different. This was about Bree.
After what felt like an eternity, Rylan saw a faint glow of light below him. Soon after, his feet slid off the edge of the chute and touched hard floor. Crouching low, he withdrew his gun from its shoulder holster.
There was enough light for him to see his surroundings. He was in a large square room, the walls of which were lined with shelves. Most were stacked with boxes. He figured this was probably one of the places in which the art exhibits were stored. There was no door, just a narrow opening that presumably led to another part of the basement. That was where the light was coming from. It was also the point from which he could hear voices.
Treading lightly so as not to be heard, Rylan moved closer to the opening. His heart soared when he recognized Bree’s voice.
“If I’m the problem, and you have to get rid of me, what do you plan to do?”
“Kill you, of course.” The matter-of-fact way in which David said the words made Rylan want to burst out from his hiding place and confront the other man. But he couldn’t, because he had no way of assessing the situation beyond his viewpoint. David could have a gun to Bree’s head, or a knife to her throat. He could have Kasey in a similar situation. Challenging him could have dire consequences.
“But I’m going to have a little fun with you first.” The lustful note in the other man’s voice made Rylan’s insides grow hot and tight with rage. He bowed his head, breathing deep. Losing control wasn’t going to help.
“I’d rather you just shot me.” Bree. As much as he admired her bravery, Rylan wanted to warn her against antagonizing an adversary.
But her words had told him something important. David had a gun.
“You don’t get to choose,” David said. “Now come here.”
Rylan held his breath. If David touched her, the rule book would be ripped up. He would be forced to act.
“I can’t leave Kasey. She needs a doctor,” Bree said.
“You really don’t get this, do you? If I’m going to kill you, why would I care if she dies as well?”
While David’s voice was raised, Rylan risked a glance into the other part of the basement. What he saw chilled him. Kasey, who appeared to be unconscious, was l
ying at the bottom of the stairs. Bree was on her knees next to her with her arms wrapped around Papadum. David was squatting nearby with his back to the wall. His hands were hidden between his knees, but Rylan was willing to bet he had a gun in one of them.
The choice was simple. Would Rylan be able to take David by surprise before the other man could shoot Bree? He would only get one chance to find out.
Stepping forward, he adopted his military fighting stance, knees flexed, arms extended straight out, raising his weapon.
“Get down flat, Bree.”
Although he spoke to her, Rylan kept his gaze trained on David, who was glaring at him with fury in his eyes and his lips drawn back. Bree obeyed him instantly, pulling Papadum with her into the space under the stairs. David scrambled to get to his feet.
“Don’t move.” As soon as Rylan uttered the words, David raised his gun. There was the sound of a shot, the splintering of glass and the basement was plunged into darkness.
Rylan muttered a curse as something brushed past him. At the same time, he heard the battering ram breaking open the interior door. Seconds later, Trey was framed in the doorway at the top of the stairs.
“Careful,” Rylan called out to him. “The suspect is armed, and there’s an injured woman at the base of the stairs.”
Someone handed Trey a flashlight, and he moved to the top of the stairs. “This is Sheriff Colton. Place your weapon down, and step forward where I can see you.”
Nothing happened. As Trey began to slowly descend the stairs, one of his deputies took his place at the top and shone a more powerful light, illuminating the scene below. There was no sign of David in the basement.
Chapter 15
Kasey regained consciousness in the ambulance, her eyes filling with tears as she clutched Bree’s hand. “I thought David was a nice guy.” She managed to make herself understood, despite the injury to her jaw.
“So did I.” Bree gently smoothed the hair back from Kasey’s forehead.
“What happened after I blacked out?”
Bree hesitated. Kasey had been through enough. She didn’t need to know that after he had shot out the single bulb, David had used the cover of darkness to escape from the basement. He must have always intended to exit via the delivery chute. Rylan had pointed out the pulley system that he could have used to make a quick getaway. That was why he had also removed the lock and oiled the hinges on the trap doors. His careful plan was just missing one minor detail. He had never intended to leave Bree alive.
“Rylan and Trey are still finalizing things.” The truth was that a Bradford County deputy was following them in his own vehicle. Even more importantly, at least from Bree’s point of view, Rylan was also close behind. Trey had remained at the gallery and was using Bree’s office to coordinate the search for David.
“My face... How bad is it?”
Bree was saved the necessity of answering when a paramedic intervened and administered a sedative. There were two hospitals in Roaring Springs, one specializing in trauma, while the other dealt mainly with surgery. She had called Kasey’s mom, who was already on her way and would meet them at the Roaring Springs Trauma Center.
As they approached the hospital entrance, the rescue team bustled into action. The deputy caught up with Bree as she followed Kasey’s trolley toward the assessment unit. A nurse halted them at the entrance.
“Go into the waiting room, please. Someone will give you an update as soon as we’ve completed our initial assessment.”
It was only then that the enormity of what had happened finally hit Bree. She had focused all her energy on getting Kasey the medical attention she needed, but now that her assistant was in good hands, all the horrifying details of what had gone down in the basement came flooding back.
The taut muscles around her mouth began to tremble and she bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears. It was too late. She felt warmth trickling down her cheek and rolling off her chin. First one, then another. Fast and unstoppable, like a rainfall. She went to sit on one of the chairs in the waiting room. Covering her face with her hands, she leaned back, alternating sobbing and sniffing.
A muscular arm slid around her shoulders and pulled her close against a powerful chest. Rylan. She sank gratefully into his strength, letting the tears flow.
“It’s okay. I’m here.” His voice was warm and comforting against her hair. “Let it all out.”
After a minute or two, she straightened and sniffed. “I don’t have my purse. No tissues.”
“Let me see what I can do.”
He disappeared for a few seconds, returning with a handful of scratchy paper towels. Bree blew her nose and did what she could to repair the damage to her face.
“Have they said anything about Kasey?” Rylan asked.
“They’re assessing her injuries now.” Bree got to her feet as a small woman in her fifties dashed toward her. “This is Mrs. Spencer, Kasey’s mom.”
The two hours they spent waiting for news was like forgotten time. Everything felt too much. The overhead lights were too bright, the hospital smells too strong, the slightest noise hurt Bree’s ears. She held Mrs. Spencer’s hand and tried to reassure her, without having any real knowledge herself. When a doctor finally came, Bree didn’t know whether to be relieved or apprehensive.
“Kasey’s jaw is broken in several places, and she is missing a few teeth. She is going to need emergency surgery to fix the initial damage. Longer term, she will require facial reconstructive and cosmetic repairs, plus extensive oral surgery.”
“Whatever it takes,” Bree said. She turned to Mrs. Spencer. “As Kasey’s employer, I hope you’ll allow me to meet the full cost of her medical bills.”
On the advice of the hospital staff, Rylan and Bree decided not to stay. Kasey, who was heavily sedated, would have her mom with her, and Trey had posted a twenty-four-hour guard on her private room until David Swanson was caught.
When they stepped outside, Bree, who wasn’t wearing a coat, shivered. Darkness was falling, bringing a chill wind with it. Rylan shrugged off his fleece jacket and draped it around her shoulders. She pulled it tighter.
“Take me home, Rylan.” There was a question in his eyes as he scanned her face. “Back to the ranch.”
* * *
Rylan cast a few worried glances in Bree’s direction as he drove. Her eyes were closed, and she was very still. She could have been asleep, but he doubted it. He knew she would be reliving what had happened. Going over and over it, her thoughts trying to make sense of another person’s agenda. At some point, he figured it was likely she would find a way to blame herself for some of it.
As they reached the gates to the ranch, she turned toward him with a frown. “Papadum?”
“Trey had someone drop him off earlier. They brought your purse and coat as well.”
When he stopped in front of the house, she exited the car slowly, moving like a person trying to wade through fast-moving water. Rylan took her hand, and, after looking blankly at his fingers wrapped around her own for a moment, she returned his grip. Together, they walked into the house and through to the kitchen.
“You need something to eat.” Rylan went to the fridge.
Bree flopped into a seat at the table. “I don’t know if I could.” She looked around. “Where’s Jekyll?”
“I didn’t know how long we’d be at the hospital, so I called Dinah and asked her to take him.” He looked up from his inspection of the shelves. “How about a tuna melt sandwich?”
“I could be tempted by that.” Bree studied the screen of her cell phone. “I should call my parents.”
Rylan nodded. “You should, but you don’t have to give them all the details. Not unless you want to. Right now, all they need to know is that you are okay, and that Trey is on the trail of the person who has been threatening you. Tell them as much, or as little, about what happened toda
y as you choose.”
Her posture relaxed slightly. “I’ll just...” She pointed toward the den, and he nodded. After about a minute, he heard the murmur of her voice, and saw her pacing back and forth as she talked.
By the time she returned, he’d made the sandwiches and poured coffee. He scanned her face. She looked tired, but less tense.
“How did that go?”
She returned to sit at the table. “They were worried, naturally, but reassured after we spoke. I decided to tell them that Kasey had been injured, in case the press picked up on it. Particularly with the Colton connection.” She bit into her sandwich. “This is seriously good. I didn’t even know I was hungry.”
“What about you?” Rylan asked. “How are you?”
She ate in silence for a few moments. “Is it okay to say I don’t know? Because I just feel numb.”
“Or shocked, maybe?”
“Maybe.” The golden hue of her eyes seemed brighter than ever as she looked toward the window. “The thought that they are still out there—”
Rylan frowned. “They?”
“David talked about someone else.” Bree’s brow furrowed in an effort to remember. “He was talking about my family, about how the Coltons trample on the little people. I asked him where that impression had come from. He said it was from someone who knew everything. We’re going to stop you. That was what he said. The plan was to start with me and the gallery. To scare me and drive me out of town. But then he said...” She drew in a breath. “He said he couldn’t stop thinking about me.”
Rylan’s lips tightened into a hard line. “And that was when scaring you out of town changed, and became about his sordid fantasies of you?”
“But when David talked about it, he seemed to be angry. It was as if he’d let someone down by going off track. He said he had to straighten things out by getting rid of the problem.” She shivered. “I was the problem, but he didn’t want to kill me straight away...”