by Rebecca York
He dragged in a breath, let it out in a rush. Then he put his life into Lily’s hands and asked, “Are you willing to help me get away?”
Unable to draw in a full breath, he watched her face, watched her deciding his fate—and hers.
“Okay,” she finally said.
“Thank you.”
“How much time do you need?”
“If you can get me ten or fifteen minutes, that would be good.”
“You have a way to get out of the house?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
“I’ll try to buy you some time.”
“I’m sorry I kidnapped you. I’m sorry I put you in danger. I should have let you go as soon as I got away from those cops.”
She answered with a small nod.
He should get the hell out of there while the getting was good. Instead, he crossed to her and folded her into his arms. At first, she stood rigid, then he felt her melt against him. Now that it was too late for anything besides good-bye.
“Be careful, Gage,” she whispered.
“I will.”
He lowered his head and slanted his lips over hers, and she responded with a frantic urgency that made his heart leap. Passion flared between them. Real passion. Not the charade she’d manufactured last night.
He wanted to keep holding her, keep kissing her. He wanted to tear off her clothes and his, and drag her down to the carpet so he could show her how much he needed her. But that was impossible now.
They were out of time. Maybe forever.
But at least he knew she was willing to help him, if this wasn’t another one of her tricks. He couldn’t entirely discount the terrible possibility that she was going to run to the front door and let the cops in the moment he left the room.
He set her away from him and her eyes blinked open, looking dazed.
He’d gotten her into this mess, and he had to think about her safety above his own. “You need a white flag,” he whispered.
“I’ll find something. You go on.”
“Thanks,” he said, meaning it from the bottom of his heart.
Knowing his only option was to trust her, he dashed across the room and looked at the duffel bag and the box he’d brought in the night before. He was going to be on foot, and he had the choice of taking the electronics equipment or the personal items.
He scooped up the equipment, then dashed for the basement stairs.
LILY COULD HEAR Gage pounding down the steps to the lower level. There must be some way out down there, some exit she didn’t know about. Up until a few minutes ago, they’d been kidnapper and captive. And she’d been desperate enough to play a terrible trick on him while he was sleeping.
She wasn’t proud of that. But she knew he wasn’t proud of putting her in danger, either.
At least, she’d started to think that when he’d changed tactics and begun talking to her like the Gage Darnell she remembered.
He’d sounded sincere. He’d kissed her like he meant it. And he’d just put his life in her hands.
She knew one thing for sure: She wanted to continue the conversation with him, and if the cops took him into custody, that would be impossible.
Without wasting any more time, she dashed up the steps to the second floor and ran down the hall, looking into the bathrooms and bedrooms. The first white piece of cloth she saw was a towel hanging in one of the bathrooms. She snatched it off the rack, then stood clutching the terry cloth, wondering what she was going to do.
She’d been convinced that Gage was crazy and dangerous.
Until he’d pulled that trick with the knife and fork.
She’d held the utensils herself and knew they were perfectly solid. It seemed that he’d been telling her the truth. He’d acquired a paranormal ability when he’d gotten caught in that accident at Cranesbrook.
Which led to another question. Did the people at Cranesbrook actually know what the explosion had done to him—or were they trying to figure it out?
He’d said he hadn’t killed the janitor. He’d said that somebody at Beech Grove had shot at him when he’d tried to escape.
She hadn’t known whether to believe any of that. Now she felt that the evidence was on his side. Or maybe she wanted to believe.
She might have mulled over that point if she hadn’t had a more pressing problem—saving her own life.
She’d told Gage she would help him get away, but she had seen too many news accounts of innocent bystanders and hostages getting shot by accident. If she didn’t want to end up as a statistic, she’d better do this right.
What would protect her while giving Gage the best chance of getting away?
After debating for a few moments, she went back to the nearest bedroom, where she found a telephone on the bedside table.
Snatching up the receiver, she dialed 911.
“What is your emergency?” a female voice asked.
“This is Lily Darnell. I’m at the Wilson estate on Brockbridge Road. I’m being held hostage, and there’s a SWAT team outside. I want to surrender. Can you put me in touch with the officer in charge outside?”
“A hostage situation?” the woman asked.
“Yes. It’s imperative that I talk to the officer in charge. I’m at the Wilson estate on Brockbridge Road,” she repeated, then looked at the telephone. “The number is 410-555-2233. I’ll be waiting for them to call me.”
She replaced the receiver and sat down on the bed with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Long seconds ticked by, and she wondered if her tactic was going to work.
Finally, the phone rang.
GAGE OPENED what looked like a closet door. But nothing was on the other side besides a metal gate. He’d checked to make sure that the tunnel was available as an escape route, but he hadn’t done anything about the rusty lock.
Holding the padlock in his hand, he peered down at the keyhole, thinking that he should have taken care of this last night. But when he’d arrived, he’d been congratulating himself on his cleverness. He’d considered this escape route as extra insurance. He shouldn’t have been so arrogant.
As he turned his attention back to the lock, he thought about the interior workings. This was like starting on a car or a boat, he told himself. But as he tried to make the mechanism snap open, he found that it wasn’t quite so easy. The rusted interior resisted his efforts.
Damn.
Upstairs, he heard the phone ring. What the hell was that? One ring. Then it stopped. Had Lily answered?
Was she about to turn him in? Or had the cops figured out how to make a call to the mansion?
“HELLO?” Lily said into the phone.
“This is Randall McClellan of the Maryland State Police. To whom am I speaking?”
“This is Lily Darnell. Are you one of the officers who was at my house last night?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God you’ve found me.”
“Are you all right, Mrs. Darnell?”
She took a deep breath before answering. “Yes. I’m in one of the upstairs bedrooms. I’d go to the window, but I don’t want to end up getting shot.”
“You won’t be,” he assured her quickly.
“I’ve watched enough news accounts of hostage situations to know I’d better be careful.”
“Okay.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. Apparently he had covered the phone receiver, because she could hear only muffled words while he conferred with someone else.
“Is your husband willing to surrender?” McClellan asked when he came back on the line.
“I don’t think so. But he’s willing to let me go.”
“Okay.”
“What should I do?”
“Do you have a white flag?”
“Yes.”
“Go to the front door.”
“How can I be sure I won’t get shot? Can you come up the walk and meet me?”
He made a harsh sound.
“How can I be sure I won’t get shot?”
“Good question. I guess we have to work something out. I’m going to hang up.”
“Don’t!” the cop said urgently.
“I’m going to go down and find a portable phone. Give me your number, so I can call you back directly.”
“Darnell is letting you walk around the house?”
“Yes.” Without further explanation, she hung up and went downstairs.
GAGE SENT his mind into the lock again, scraping away the rust. When the mechanism finally clicked, he felt a flood of relief.
Flashlight in hand, he stepped into a dark tunnel. It was dank and musty, and he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, but he took the time to relock the gate behind him before starting down the passageway.
Savagely, he squelched the impulse to run. He’d never been in here before, and he didn’t want to stumble into some booby trap left over from the bootlegging days when this secret route had been constructed. So he forced himself to go slowly, counting his paces as he went.
Playing the light in front of him and along the wall, he kept walking forward. He was a hundred and twenty paces from the gate when the flashlight beam hit a wooden door.
Like the gate in the basement, the door was locked. Shining the light over the vertical surface, he found the lock and fingered it. Large and old-fashioned, it probably hadn’t been used in years, but he sent his mind into the inner workings, just as he had at the other end. Once again the rust proved to be a barrier.
The house seemed far away now. What was Lily doing? Were the cops already inside?
“Stay safe,” he whispered, knowing that he was secretly listening for the sound of shots from above.
LILY PICKED UP the portable phone in the little office off the kitchen. She glanced at the clock and waited another minute before dialing McClellan, stalling to give Gage time to get away.
He answered on the first ring. “Mrs. Darnell? Are you all right?”
“Yes. And I’d like to come out. If we can do that without my getting shot.”
“You have my word on that.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “Okay. I’m going to walk to the front of the house. I’ll stand back from the window, but I want to see you in the driveway.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Tell the SWAT team to put their weapons down. Then raise your hands and step out where I can see you.”
The volume was turned up loud enough for Richard to hear the conversation.
Rand felt his partner’s hand on his shoulder. “You’re not going to do it, are you?”
“If course I’m going to do it.”
“This could be a trick. The bastard could be planning to shoot you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You’re willing to bet your life on that?”
“Yes.”
Rand raised his voice. “Red light. Red light. Put your weapons down. Mrs. Darnell, the hostage, is coming out.”
The leader of the SWAT team hesitated, then ordered his men to stand down.
Feeling like a moving target, Rand stepped from behind the unmarked and into the circle of the driveway. Then he raised his hands above his head and took several steps toward the front door.
When it opened, he tensed.
Somebody poked a white flag outside. Seconds later, a figure stepped onto the porch. It was Lily Darnell, clutching a bath towel.
She took several steps toward him, wavering on unsteady feet. He rushed forward and steadied her, then led her down the driveway and behind the unmarked.
“You’re all right?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Where’s Darnell?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I woke up, and he was missing.”
“You’re saying you’re alone in the house?”
“Yes.”
Rand struggled not to mutter a curse. His eyes focused on Mrs. Darnell, he asked, “If he’s not here, why did you go through that elaborate phone call? Why did you let me think he was still there? You were talking like he’d given you permission to speak to me.”
She dragged in a breath and huffed it out. “Like I told you, I was worried about getting hurt. You were assuming he’d be there, so I acted like you’d expect me to act. It’s a relief to know I’m still in one piece.”
“And now you’re saying the house is empty?” Rand clarified.
“As far as I know.”
Rand turned from the woman. She seemed shaken but unhurt. Still, he didn’t exactly trust her.
Richard came forward. “Should I send the SWAT team in?”
“Yeah. But advise them to use extreme caution.”
GAGE LOCKED the door behind him. Stepping into the woods, he shouldered the box of equipment that he’d brought from home. It was heavy, he wanted to ditch it, but many items would be difficult to replace, since he’d designed them himself. So he clamped his arm around the box and jogged through the woods.
He’d thought he was safe at the Wilson estate. Now he was rethinking his plans.
Up ahead he saw a road. He stayed away from it and wove his way through the trees until a house came into view through the still-green leaves. And a car. A late-model Ford.
He needed transportation. But when he approached the vehicle, a large dog leaped out of the woods and came straight for him.
“HOW LONG have you been alone?” the detective asked Lily. They were seated in the rear of the unmarked car.
“I’m not sure.”
When he continued to stare at her, she raised her chin. “I woke up in the downstairs den. When I went to sleep the night before, Gage was with me. When I got up he wasn’t there.”
“What time was that?”
She looked down at her hands, and he was pretty sure she was going to tell him a lie. “Thirty minutes ago.”
“You slept late.”
“I was exhausted.”
“You could sleep when you thought you were in extreme danger?”
“I never thought I was in extreme danger. I knew Gage wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Why did he kidnap you?”
She swallowed and raised her eyes toward his. Giving him a direct look, she said, “He told me he had to get away. He said he was innocent and he’d been framed. He said that if you took him into custody, he’d never be able to prove his innocence.”
The sincerity in her eyes argued that she was telling the truth. At least as far as she knew it. Darnell certainly wouldn’t have told her he was a murderer. Still, Rand was pretty sure she wasn’t giving him the whole story.
“Why did you wait for half an hour to call for help?”
“I didn’t know if I was alone in the house. I didn’t know if it was some kind of trick. If maybe Gage was waiting to see what I would do. But when he didn’t show up, I figured it was okay to talk to you.”
Rand looked up to see his partner standing in the doorway. Excusing himself, he exited the car and walked toward the house, nodding at a nearby officer to watch Mrs. Darnell.
“I take it the SWAT team didn’t find him,” he said to his partner.
“Right. As far as we can tell, the house is empty. I found a pair of handcuffs in the den. One end is still attached to the sofa arm. So he must have freed her at some point.”
“Yeah. The question is when?”
“Also, there’s something interesting in the basement. Apparently somebody put in a tunnel that leads to the woods at the edge of the property. There’s a gate in the basement and a door at the other end. We had to bust through both of them. A door hid the gate, but it was open.”
“You think he went out that way?”
“I think it’s likely.”
“But he unlocked the gate and the door and locked them again?”
“I think so.”
“Why would he do that?”
“To throw us off his trail. And slow us down.”
Rand
nodded.
Richard continued, “Besides the car he came in, there are two more vehicles in the garage—an SUV and an Acura. I think he’s on foot.”
“There could have been a third vehicle on the property.”
“I’ve contacted the owners. They say they left only two cars here. So we have to ask ourselves if he had time to plan an escape, why didn’t he drive?”
Rand considered the implications. “Maybe when we arrived, Darnell and his wife cooked something up. She stalled us long enough for him to get down the tunnel. You’ve sent men into the woods?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why would she do that? It looked like she was pretty scared when he hustled her out of their house.”
“They got cozy during the night?” Richard theorized.
“A possibility.”
“Whatever happened, he can’t get far on foot.”
“Let’s hope not.”
“Do you think we can get the truth out of the wife?”
Rand tightened his jaw. “I’m sure as hell going to try.”
Chapter Eight
Gage sprinted for the car. To his everlasting relief, the vehicle was unlocked. He leaped inside, then pulled the door closed seconds before the dog reached the side of the car.
It continued to bark, standing on its hind legs and snapping its jaw at him through the window, but it couldn’t get inside and chew his leg off.
LILY LOOKED UP as the detective came back into the car. His face was set in grim lines, and she suspected he had acquired some new information.
A bolt of fear flashed through her. Had they captured Gage? Killed him? She ached to ask, but she couldn’t give away that she was worried.
“We’ve found a tunnel in the basement,” he said.
“And?”
“It looks like your husband escaped that way.”
“Okay.”
“When did he leave, Mrs. Darnell?”
“I told you, I don’t know. I was sleeping. When I woke up, he was gone.”
The detective regarded her with unblinking eyes. “You’re sure he wasn’t here when we arrived?”