Unraveling

by Kelley Griffin

  The room was four walls of stone and small like a good sized walk-in closet. When they opened the door, Stacy looked like a work of art. Wearing only a pink bra and matching panties, Stacy stood frozen, holding a hard backed chair over her head, ready to clobber the next person who walked in. Her body quaked, and her eyes were wide with fear. Stacy’s body was covered in bruises. Kirin held both hands up and took in the sad sight of her friend. Stacy’s pretty face was splattered with dark red blood.

  When she saw Kirin, she dropped the chair and ran to her, holding her like her life depended on it. The only sound in the room was the chattering of Stacy’s teeth.

  “I’m...so...so sorry,” Stacy rambled, sobbing. “Why are you here? I’m so glad to see you.” Her body trembled. Joel stripped out of his jacket and handed it to Kirin. It was then, Stacy’s head snapped up and she noticed him.

  “You!” she spat. Stacy took a step toward him putting Kirin between them. Stacy’s voice quivered with anger reverberating through every syllable. “You brought her here?”

  “You two know each other?” Kirin wrapped the jacket around her friend. Then, without thinking, raised her hands up between them like she was a boxing referee.

  “Yeah. This scum was supposed to be on our side, but the turncoat went for the money. He’s a hired thug—only in it for himself.” Then she spoke over Kirin’s head at Joel, “You know they have you by the balls now, right? They own you. If I were you, I’d divorce your pretty wife and hide your cute little kids, because nothing will stop them.” Stacy’s voice softened at the end. She staggered a little then sat on the hard-backed chair and winced.

  Joel’s face held nothing but anger. Red and blotched like he wanted to spit nails. He glanced at his watch. “I gotta go.”

  “Yes. Leave. You’re good at that,” Stacy hissed. They glared at each other like two dogs about to attack. Her next question hit Kirin like a truck. “Wait, we need his gun.”

  “Shut up, Stace.” Kirin began to pace. “We’re not entertaining that. We’ll figure a way out of here.”

  “How?” Stacy cried. “Do you have any idea who they have up there? Some freakin’ drug lord from the Detroit cartel. They’re making some deal tonight. That man makes Nicky look like a Sunday School teacher.” Stacy stood and began to pace, not even caring that she was mostly naked. “And not only that, but our guys aren’t gonna be able to find us. There were no trackers and they’ve been searching for this place for months.”

  Kirin felt a pang of fear watching Joel head for the door. She touched his shirt and he turned.

  Before she could say anything, he spoke. “You said if I let you out of the cuffs, you wouldn’t run. You gotta trust me. And stay down here.”

  Joel turned, opened the door, and closed it behind him. When the door clicked, Kirin felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. She’d bonded with him. She turned back to see her friend, staring at the opposite wall. Her expression said she’d already given up. Already decided it was no use.

  Stacy let out a defeated breath, stood and rubbed her forehead. Pointing at Kirin’s feet she said, “Nice work boots, where’d ya get those dinosaurs?”

  Kirin lifted one boot, “The closet in our room, back at the airstrip.”

  Stacy leaned over, “What’s that silver thing on the bottom?”

  Kirin sat on the wooden chair, yanked her boot off and turned it over. A tiny silver circle was wedged between the treads of the boot. Kirin pulled it off and inspected it. Stacy snatched it out of her hand and turned it over.

  “It’s gotta be a transmitter,” Stacy’s smile crept across her face as she handed it back. “Of course. The Club would come after you and your shoes would lead the FBI straight to the mob. Did you know you were gonna be bait?”

  She’d known but hadn’t even thought to look at her shoes. Kirin nodded and shoved the circle in her pocket as a plan hatched in her mind.

  “Listen. Is there any way out of this room other than the door?”

  Stacy shrugged then glanced up at an access panel in the ceiling. Perfect, except it took a screwdriver to release the square grate. Kirin took the chair and placed it under the air return. Standing on the chair, she was barely tall enough to reach it. But Stacy was taller. Stacy shook her head and switched places.

  A single gunshot echoed in the hallway. Close. Remarkably close. Both women froze. A man’s voice yelled something Kirin couldn’t understand. They needed to hurry. Kirin pulled the circle from her pocket and handed it to Stacy. Stacy’s hand trembled as she used the edge to loosen the screws.

  Two screws down. Stacy’s fingers furiously twisted the third screw as another shot rang out. Even closer. This time a man screamed out in pain. Kirin climbed up on the chair with Stacy, grabbed the circle and worked on the 4th screw, whispering as she did.

  “Listen. I’m gonna disappear temporarily.”

  Stacy’s fingers froze. Her head snapped toward Kirin.

  Kirin locked eyes with her, “I’m not leaving you. Do you understand me? But if they catch me here, we’re both dead.”

  Stacy nodded. Tears formed in her eyes. The third and fourth screws came off together, causing the grate to give way. The women caught it, but the wooden chair creaked and wobbled, causing a loud scraping sound. They both froze.

  When nothing happened outside the door, Stacy took the grate, stepped off the chair and propped it up against a wall. Climbing back up she made a pocket as Kirin had done earlier and hoisted her friend inside the hole.

  Once inside, Kirin’s eyes adjusted. Her body was hunched over in the tight space as darkness engulfed her. Warm air whooshed past. She had to be inside the heat and air duct. But instead of using silver flexible ductwork, this old house had a two by two square plywood tunnel that snaked around between floors. Her heart pounded, reminding her she wasn’t a fan of small spaces.

  Had she been five pounds heavier, like she was before the blast, there’d be no way she would’ve fit. As it was, she was having a hard time turning her body back around to face Stacy. She felt like a German Shepard in a kitten cage. Turning her head and squeezing her shoulder through, she finally faced the way she’d come. The plywood underneath her creaked.

  She was determined to give Stacy hope and confidence. Kirin took a deep breath then peered back at Stacy who with a resolute look on her face, took off Joel’s jacket and handed it up through the hole. Kirin grabbed it and tied it securely around her waist. Then, reached back down and handed Stacy the silver circle. It’d help her brother and the rest of the FBI to find her.

  “I’ll be back for that.”

  “Damn well better,” Stacy said. Strength emanated from her voice, but her body shook. Stacy and Kirin held hands and locked watery eyes before Kirin turned back to crawl into darkness.

  God, she hated leaving her friend to battle whoever came through the door. But this was the right thing to do, she just knew it.

  Kirin grunted as she wedged her shoulders against the wood and turned back toward the tunnel. Rough plywood skimmed Kirin’s shoulders and the heat blowing in her face made sweat appear at her temples. The tiny bit of light disappeared as Stacy replaced the grate. When the heat suddenly stopped, the only sound in the tunnel was the squeak of each of the screws as Stacy turned them.

  She prayed she was right.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kirin’s ears perked up. Scampering of tiny feet told her the resident rodents knew she was there even if the mob didn’t. With each placement of her hand, crumbles of dirt and God-knows-what-else stuck to her palms. She shuddered. Careful, she put each hand down then placed her weight on it. Since the house on top of her was built in the forties, who knew when the dungeon and air system were added.

  The last thing she wanted to do was to make an unwelcome entrance into a lower room by falling through rotted wood or push up through a floor grate right into a hornet’s nest.

  As she slow-crawled, Sam’s handsome face crossed her mind. She prayed he hadn’t been captured.
Her stomach lurched. Gianna. The snake was surely somewhere above, waiting for her to break her beloved’s heart so she could pick up the pieces. Maybe there was a way to fix this without handing over the love of her life.

  A flood of striped light shone down into the pipe just ahead. Low, muffled voices floated to her ears. Kirin stilled. If she moved a few more feet, she’d be able to pick up words. Careful not to make a sound, she pressed on slowly and stopped in the darkness, just before the rectangle of light.

  Just then, the heat inside the pipe kicked back on. Warm air blew past her and up the grate. It was loud like she was in a wind tunnel. She closed her eyes and craned her neck to get closer. The voices were muffled, but she could make out most of the words.

  “You’re sure the cash is all there?” The click-clack of heels and a voice she now knew better than her own was loud and clear. Gianna. But her tone didn’t have that confident edge it had before. She almost sounded nervous.

  “Yes, counted and hidden. Now let’s hope nobody fucks this up,” Nicky’s gravelly voice rang out directly above her. “Even though they hijacked our last two shipments of girls—and I swear to God when I find out who our informant is, I’m gonna kill them—we got back part of our powder the government stole from us.” All light in the pipe ceased as he crouched down and held his palms over the grate. Kirin stilled and held her breath. “Why is this house so damn cold?”

  “Where’s pin-head?” Gianna asked, clearly ignoring his question.

  “Todd headed out back to smoke. Took Geno with him.”

  “If he screws this up...” Gianna’s voice was tight and held a warning.

  “If he does, we’re done with him. It won’t matter that he’s family.”

  “I’m done no matter what, Nicola. Sam and I head back to Cleveland tonight.”

  Kirin balled her fists. Her jaw ached. Damn overconfident woman—counting her chickens before they’re hatched. Or men in this case.

  Nicky lowered his voice, “It’s father, or dad or anything but Nicola. And you can’t. The Club needs you. We agreed, Todd can’t lead. And there’s nobody better to take this over. Sauly spent all the money he had left on this piece-of-shit house for mama. You and I can build this empire back to what it was before Sauly was murdered and the fucking government took the rest of his money.”

  Nicky shuffled away and cleared his throat. “Look, I don’t trust the fucker, but if you love him, Sam can stay. I won’t kill him, I swear. But that bitch he’s with has to die.”

  Gianna clomped across the hardwood, “How many times? How many times I gotta say it? I don’t want this! Never have. I’m an attorney for Christ’s sake! You pushed your only child into being a whore. I’m out. And I swear to God, you try to force my hand old man, I’ll end you.”

  The door opened. Another set of feet crossed the wood floor. It groaned and creaked under the weight. Nicky moved away from the vent. Kirin felt her body relax a tiny bit.

  Gianna spoke, “Well? Is he here?”

  A faint male voice said, “Team two hasn’t made it yet.”

  “Then it’s your job. Go get him. Bring him here.” Gianna whined like a child begging for a toy.

  “You know I can’t do that,” the male voice coming from the corner, said.

  “You listen to me. I don’t care what your relationship is like—I paid you handsomely out of my money to do a job. You will bring him to me.”

  Nicky interrupted, “Just got word. Team two is here, battered, but they’re here.”

  The click clack of quick steps running across the wood floors meant Gianna trotted out of the room. Jealous tingles crept up Kirin’s body. The only good thing was Sam was alive, but he was inside the lion’s den, too.

  “Everything is set,” Nicky said when the door slammed.

  “What now?” The man’s voice had a familiar ring to it but strained. Joel.

  “Go get her. I want her naked and bound. Make sure she’s tied up tight and bring her to the main foyer.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  ~*~

  Kirin crawled faster. Her arms shook. He was either talking about her or Stacy. Either way, she didn’t have time to think, just move. When the whooshing air cut off, she had to slow. The plywood creaked with her weight and she had no idea if the rooms above or below could hear it.

  The labyrinth of connecting passageways seem to spider off in all directions. Underneath this decrepit house was a small city. Hell, she could be so turned around, she might not even be heading toward the main foyer. Every few feet, she’d stop and listen. Echoes of conversations rattled through the canal and each time, she’d follow the path. She twisted, turned and crawled, and only one time had to reverse.

  The air seemed warmer and stuffier at the same time. She must be getting closer to the unit. Her hope was that the unit was closest to the main part of the house.

  At one turn, she heard music and stopped. Eminem. Swear to God, the room above played Eminem—old Eminem at that. She stilled, on all fours and automatically mouthed the words to “Soldier.” Whoever was above was probably about her age. She crawled until light from a square grate appeared, then stopped to listen.

  A door opened, then closed and the music stopped.

  “What up?” A deep male voice rang out in the silence.

  “Why the fuck are we still waiting?” a different gruff voice asked.

  The first voice, now farther away answered, “almost time.”

  “All’s I gotta say is they better have the money or Leo’s gonna go on a rampage.”

  “I just overheard one of the hillbillies say they heard our stuff is chemical bullshit.”

  Silence.

  An angry gunshot rang out so loud she had to slap her hand across her mouth to muffle her scream. The hole in the wood just two feet ahead of her, smoked. If she’d crawled farther, she’d be dead.

  “We’ll show them chemical bullshit. Let’s move.”

  The door slammed shut.

  It took a full minute for Kirin to get her breathing under control and her ears to stop ringing. When her heart rate slowed, she crawled several more feet until she came to another juncture in the wooden tunnel. To the right, the space seemed lighter. It’d make more sense to find a dark room and see if she could jimmy her body up through a grate.

  Heading to the left, the heat kicked back on. A whistle up ahead told her the air was squeezing through an opening. She crawled another ten feet until the light changed. It looked more like moonlight shone through a window into a dark room above her. It illuminated the grate just enough for her to see the outline of the tunnel.

  She waited, listening for sounds of sleepy breathing. No noise. It seemed nobody occupied the room above her. Underneath it now, she squinted to look through the slats in the grate. Something fuzzy covered part of the grate. She stuck her pinky through. It was soft, like a blanket.

  She hoped there wasn’t a sleeping baby or something in this room. She could only make out large shadows. Furniture maybe? Maybe a large bed, a dresser, and a couch.

  Kirin positioned her body directly underneath. Her plan was to push her good shoulder into the grate, moving it slightly with a prayer it didn’t squeak. When she situated her hands under her, one landed on something hard. Kirin recoiled in the dark.

  She reached back out and felt it. Paper. A rectangle of wrapped paper, like a present. With one hand holding her up, the other flipped it over. It landed back on the plywood with a thud. Whatever it was, it was heavy, not as hard as a brick, but pliable. She moved her fingers around each end, then it hit her.

  Cash. It was a stack of wrapped cash. She lowered one elbow to the floor and used her other hand to untie Joel’s jacket from her waist. Fumbling around in the dark, she located the zipper and found an inside phone pocket the perfect size to secure the brick of cash. Shoving it in and retying the jacket, she hunched over, cross-legged and used one shoulder to push the grate.

  It was slow going. The grate made a rubbing sound but didn�
��t squeak like she’d feared. As soon as the lip cleared the edge of the hardwood floor, she lifted it with both hands and placed it on the blanket. Popping her head through the square, she feared if someone were inside, they’d see her. She must’ve looked like a whack-a-mole.

  When the heat kicked off, the room was eerily quiet. Kirin hoisted herself into the room and crouched. The grate was under the window, with the bed between her and the door. Her vision sharpened in the dark. She crouched completely still and searched all corners for movement. Nobody there, thank God. She crawled a foot toward the window seat then shook her head. Stand up, ding dong. She stood cautiously, then stretched.

  Ten-foot ceilings with ornate crown-molding made her feel especially small in the giant room. Peering out the window to get her bearings, she cupped her hands against the glass. Shadows fell through the trees that lined the extensive driveway, looking like a line of soldiers protecting the house.

  She made it to the front. She’d crawled from the basement through tunnels and made it where she wanted to go, even with her wonky sense of direction. Holy crap. She smiled in the dark.

  The doorknob rattled. Kirin slapped a hand across her mouth to stop an escaping scream. Not enough time to replace the grate. She scurried under the bed. The door swung open and the lights flicked on.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Large black boots stomped into the room. Their owner paused just inside the door. She blinked rapidly, eyes watering from the bright light.

  “What the...?” The deep male voice swore an oath then ran around the bed to the grate lying next to the hole. When the man dropped to his knees, he laid his face on the hardwood and shoved one arm inside. She held her breath. If he’d turned his head toward the door instead of the window, he’d have looked her in the eye.