She stopped, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. This had to be the place, but the panel wasn’t swinging open the way secret doors did in the movies. She pressed harder. The wall here was definitely spongey and as she moved along, it began to give slightly. When she was almost at the center starting point, a small section of the wall shifted left and under the exterior panel. Aha. A sliding door, not a swinging one. Footsteps thundered from above her head, seeming to move in her direction. She had to hide.
There was just enough light at the entrance to expose notched shelving on both sides of a narrow room. Wine racks? she wondered. More shouting from upstairs. Heart racing, she set one foot into the dark interior. Just as she turned to close the sliding door behind her, she heard a faint humming sound. Unable to see even her hand, she inched forward in the dark until her right foot stubbed against something soft. She bent down, feeling with her hands. Finding cloth. She ran her fingers up the fabric to smooth, warm skin. Hair. Her stomach lurched and she bit down hard on her lower lip so as not to cry out.
“Skye?” she whispered.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SAM FELL to her knees, fingers scrabbling at the tape across Skye’s mouth. She made low shushing sounds as Skye struggled to communicate, digging her nails under the tape and pulling it down inch by inch. First one side, then the other. She felt her sister flinch once, and realized she’d either scratched her or the tape had caught some hair. Small injuries, she told herself, as she worked away at the binding. The instant the tape came way enough for Skye to talk, Sam clapped a hand on her mouth.
“Let’s get out of here.” She paused, almost afraid to ask. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. Just my pride. So stupid,” Skye whispered back. “He was at your place, waiting for me. I got out of the car and he came up behind me with a gun. Made me get into the trunk of his car. In broad daylight. No one around.” She stopped, catching her breath.
“It’s okay, Skye. Relax.”
“He taped my hands, too.” She gave an awkward half-turn, showing Sam her bound wrists.
Sam muttered an expletive. She tried to dig her fingernails underneath, but there was no gap between skin and tape. “I can’t find the join!” she cried. “It’s too tight.”
“Never mind,” Skye snarled impatiently. “Let’s just get out of here.”
Sam placed her hands under Skye’s armpits and pulled her sister up. Gasping, she leaned against the wine racks with Skye swaying into her. They crab-walked between the wine racks to the panel door. The voices upstairs were louder now, shouting. A door slammed and heavy footsteps reverberated through to the basement. Sam, her arm around Skye, froze.
“Did you call the police?” Skye asked.
“Not yet.”
“Call them.”
Sam recognized that tone. Skye was rallying. She dug out her cell phone and pressed 9-1-1. As soon as Sam gave the address, the dispatcher informed her there’d been a call about a burglary on the premises.
“Burglary? No, there’s no—”
“Give me the phone,” said Skye, raising her taped hands. Sam placed the phone at her sister’s ear.
“This is Agent Skye Sorrenti speaking. We have a possible hostage situation with an abduction of an FBI agent. Two suspects, one armed. Approach with caution. Rear entrance.” She gave her badge number and jerked her head, indicating for Sam to take away the phone. “Let’s go.”
They scurried along the dark corridor, but as they reached the bottom of the cellar stairs, someone thundered down the steps to the landing above. Sam pulled Skye into the stairwell. The back door slammed shut and silence fell over the entire building. Except for their ragged breathing. After a painfully long moment, Skye whispered, “We have to go now. Me first.”
“No. Your hands are tied. Me first.”
“No, I can use my feet.”
“Yeah, just like you did when he got you.”
“Are you going to rub that in for the rest of my life?”
“Maybe. If I have to.”
Skye drew her head back to look Sam in the face. “You’re serious.”
“Yep.”
They both grinned at the same time. Sam teared up. They were still in danger, but she had her sister.
“So much for the big FBI agent,” Skye murmured.
“You said it, not me.”
Skye nodded.
“Let’s go,” said Sam, heading for the bottom step.
“Wait. About last Christmas.”
“Geezus, Skye. Now?”
“It had nothing to do with taking Todd away from you or that competition thing. I had this gut feeling about him, that he wasn’t good enough for you. I tried to tell you before, but I thought you wouldn’t believe me. Whenever I was alone with him, he was always making these suggestive remarks. Finding excuses to brush against me. I should have just come out and told you, but—”
Sam placed two fingers on her sister’s lips. “Shh. It’s ancient history. You did me a big favor.” She paused, adding, “Just keep your mitts off the one I have now.”
“You don’t have to worry about that one, Sam.”
Sam kissed her sister on the cheek. “Me first,” she said, and led the way up the stairs to the landing.
The rear door was fully closed. Sam swore under her breath. She heard Skye coming up behind her, and as she turned to tell her to wait, a man’s voice sounded from her right. She spun around. Howard was standing in the doorway at the top of the other set of steps. The gun in his right hand wavered slightly as he looked from Sam to Skye and back to Sam.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered. “There’s two of you.”
CHASE WANTED to throw his cell phone out the window in frustration. Traffic was typical for a balmy Sunday afternoon. Tourists, shoppers and gawkers. He wove the pickup in and out of lanes, feeling and hearing the outrage behind him as he cut drivers off and braked hard for the occasional jaywalker. He had one goal—to get to Sam as quickly as possible.
He couldn’t pinpoint the day or the moment when Samantha Sorrenti ceased to be an adversary and became a friend. Well, not exactly a friend, he qualified, because what he’d been feeling for her the past few days had little to do with friendship. He wasn’t certain he could call it love yet, though it was far more than physical desire. He simply wanted to be with her. To see her green-flecked eyes light up or the tiny crease of worry between those eyes when she spoke about Emily or Danny. The soft sibilance as she whispered his name. Her full, sweet lips and…He groaned. Focus, he told himself. Drive.
At the intersection before Trade Winds he turned onto the side street and then the alley. A few yards in, he spotted Sam’s car and pulled in behind it. He was reaching for his phone on the passenger seat when he heard a gravel-spitting roar and looked up to see a car fishtailing out of the parking area behind the building. He couldn’t see the driver, but the car looked like the one at his uncle’s that morning. Probably Terence.
He jumped from the cab, shoving his phone into his jeans pocket and ran to the rear door, passing another car that surely belonged to Howard. The door was locked. He stood back, staring up at the second-floor windows. No sign of life anywhere. He considered dashing around to the front, but hesitated, recalling a security camera there years ago. No sign of police yet, either. Still, he had to do something. About to head for the front, he noticed the door handle rotating.
“DOUBLE THE TROUBLE,” said Howard. “Just what I need. Okay. So be it. Terry told me I was on my own with this.” He pointed the gun at Sam. “You open the door.”
“You can end this right now,” said Skye. “Plea bargain, mental breakdown. It could make a big difference to your sentence.”
“You must be the agent,” he said. “At least I got the right one. And thanks but no thanks. There’s too much to lose now. I’m thinking a car accident or something. I’ll sort out the details while we’re driving.”
“You won’t get away with it.”
“Shut up!�
� he shouted. “Open the door!” He jerked the gun, and Sam didn’t have to be told twice, turning the knob and pushing. Before it was fully opened, he rushed down the steps, grabbed a clump of Skye’s hair and pulled her backward against him. She gasped in pain. Sam spun around, trying to grab his arm. He raised the gun, pointed it at Sam and then pressed it into Skye’s neck. “Get moving,” he ordered.
Sam hesitated.
“Do it,” gasped Skye.
Sam stepped out and stopped, blinded by the sunlight. Howard pushed her with his free hand and she stumbled forward. Suddenly a hand grasped her by the forearm and yanked her off to the side. She fell back against the owner of that hand, craning her neck sharply to see.
She opened her mouth to say Chase’s name, but was stopped by his finger on her lips. Then Chase moved behind the open door.
Skye burst out followed by Howard. Realizing what was going on, she aimed a hard kick backward at Howard’s shin. He shouted in pain, pushing her away from him. Chase lunged forward, knocking the gun from Howard’s hand.
Chase’s fist landed squarely on his jaw. Howard fell backward against the hood of his car. He shook his head, then came at Chase. But Skye was ready for him, kicking out her right leg and hitting his knee with enough force for all of them to hear a loud crack. Screaming in pain, Howard crumpled to the ground, facedown. Chase ran to him and placed a steady foot on his back.
“Well done, Skye. That was some kick.” He locked eyes with Sam and smiled.
When the first siren wail rang through the alley, he stepped away from Howard, extended an arm and folded Sam into his side, pressing the top of her head into the curve of his neck. She snuggled close, waves of relief and peace flowing through her.
After Howard was taken away and the duct tape snipped from Skye’s wrists, Sam and Chase sat in the back of a patrol car while Skye talked to the police.
“I’m sorry…” Sam began to say until Chase leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.
“Not now. I’m hoping we’ll have many days—and years—to go over all this. I just want to hold you close.” He wrapped his arms around her and Sam gladly sank into them. She was almost asleep when the peal of cell phones jarred her. They looked at each other and dragged their phones out.
“My mom,” said Sam.
“The hospital,” said Chase.
Sam kissed him once more, knowing the peaceful interlude was over.
A PATROL CAR drove them to the hospital, siren blaring. Every second counted now, in the time left for Emily Benson. When the elevator door opened on the palliative ward, Danny was standing in the hall, Nina a few feet behind. He ran into Chase’s arms, burying his face in his father’s chest. Nina gestured to Sam, indicating the waiting area at the end of the hall, and left them alone.
Danny led the way into Emily’s room, Chase’s arm across his shoulders. Sam followed, but stayed in the doorway. An oxygen mask covered the lower part of Emily’s face and her eyes were closed. Yet it seemed to Sam that she stirred slightly as Chase and Danny sat in the chairs next to her bed. Danny placed his hand on hers, while Chase wrapped his arm around him.
Except for the whirr of the oxygen machine, silence filled the room. Sam watched, a lump swelling in her throat. She was about to go down the hall to join her mother when Chase glanced up and smiled, cocking his head to the empty chair beside his. She hesitated. Did she really belong in that family grouping?
But when Danny turned and beckoned, Sam tiptoed into the room. Chase extended his free hand, clasping hers, and squeezed gently. The three of them sat silently, a tableau locked together in Chase’s embrace, watching Emily.
And Sam knew she did belong.
EPILOGUE
SAM STACKED the last few dessert plates from the dining-room table, gathered up the cloth napkins and started for the kitchen. Then, on impulse, she decided to take a peek into the living room, where Chase was going through some legal papers. The four weeks since Emily’s death had been difficult for everyone, especially Danny. But now the healing process had begun and their lives were settling into a kind of normalcy.
Chase was sitting at the end of the couch, a briefcase opened on the floor at his feet and files of papers beside it. He looked up when Sam entered the room and smiled.
“Hi, beautiful,” he said.
The familiar and delicious fluttering set off by his voice, his smile, his touch, seeped through every part of her. “Hi, to you, too,” she said softly. “How’s it going?”
He set the sheaf of papers he’d been reading onto the couch. “It all looks more complex than it really is. Basically, my cousins and Uncle Bryant were pilfering from the company and various agencies for years, as we all suspected. I had an interesting talk earlier with Bill while you and Skye were getting the cake ready.”
Bill Carter had offered to look into the sale of Martha Sullivan’s shares in Trade Winds on Chase’s behalf. He’d joined them for Nina’s birthday dinner that night, but had to leave early. “Oh? Did he say anything about your chances of getting the proper sale price?”
“Yep. He said we have a solid case and Mother will have a large sum of money coming to her…well, to Harbor House, for her care. But there’s something else no one knew about. It came out when Bryant’s lawyers were probating his will.”
Chase’s uncle had suffered a fatal heart attack less than twenty-four hours after Howard and Terence were arrested. The likely convictions of the pair and the scandal resulting from the newly opened fraud investigation had sent Trade Winds into receivership. Sam had thought there’d be no more surprises.
“What is it?” she asked, intrigued.
“Although my uncle owned the whole business after he swindled my mother out of her shares, he apparently didn’t own the building itself.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you before the building was the original Sullivan family home, two generations back. It turns out it was never part of the company’s holdings, but privately owned. The oldest son of each generation inherited it.”
“So your father…”
“Yep. As the older son, he inherited it from his father and he rented it to the business for a nominal fee. When we had our big fight years ago, he threatened to disinherit me. When he died, I never received any money, but apparently he kept me in his will as the next and rightful owner of the house. Uncle Bryant was the executor and my father’s lawyer was also Bryant’s. He managed to convince the lawyer that he’d informed me and that I’d agreed to let the company rent the building. Of course, it was all a lie.”
“He was a calculating man, wasn’t he? But that’s wonderful about the building.”
“Yeah. I wish I’d known much earlier. I could have turfed them all out of there.” His laugh was harsh.
“The property’s very valuable. That’s good for you and Danny.”
“For the three of us,” he murmured.
Sam liked the sound of that. The three of us. She smiled, her gaze locked with his.
“Are you almost finished in there?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m going to change into my sweats and relieve Skye with the pots and pans.”
“Hmm. Can I watch?”
She laughed. “What? Watch me wash dirty pots?”
“I was thinking about the changing part.”
Heat rose into her face. Memories of the previous weekend—their first alone together—surfaced. They’d arranged for Danny to spend the time with Nina, and she and Chase had gone into seclusion at Sam’s place. “Hold on to that wish,” she said. “We’re definitely going to have a repeat of last weekend.”
“I can hardly wait.”
Knowing she’d either have to take the dishes to the kitchen or put them down, Sam reluctantly said, “Same here. See you in a few minutes.”
As she turned to go, he said, “I love you, Sam.”
She stopped. “I love you, Chase.”
She was still glowing when she entered the kitchen.
Skye
was loading the dishwasher. “Thought you got lost,” she said.
“I did, kind of.”
“The telltale heart.”
“Hmm?”
“It’s written all over you, sis. You’re an open book, as they say.”
“Maybe I am,” Sam murmured.
Skye rolled her eyes. “Oh, God. I think you’d better join me in a run after we finish in here. Cool down.”
“I’d like that.”
They smiled, thinking back to two days ago, when they’d talked late into the night after Skye had arrived for Emily’s memorial and Nina’s birthday dinner. They hadn’t seen each other since a few days after That Day, as everyone had begun calling the day Emily died.
“Chase has some great news.”
“He’s going to make an honest woman of you?” Skye teased.
“Ha ha.” Sam told her about his family-home inheritance.
“That is great, Sam. I’m happy for him. He deserves something after what his relatives did to him.”
“Yes, he does.” Sam handed the dishes to Skye. “I see you helped yourself to my old clothes.”
“Fortunately you had a couple of track suits in your drawers. Who’d have thought we’d have a cool snap in mid-June?”
“It’s supposed to warm up tomorrow. We’re taking Danny back to Kerry Park in the morning. He wants to scatter some of Emily’s ashes there.”
Skye stood up from loading the dishwasher. “Is he up to that?”
“Chase thought so. He’s adjusting very well, according to Mom.” Sam looked across the dark patio to the solarium opposite. Danny and Nina were heavily into a chess game.
“Mom’s been fabulous,” said Skye, coming up beside her.
“No kidding. It was so good of her to forgo a big party and let us have just a family birthday dinner, instead. My appreciation for her has multiplied over these past few weeks.”
“Mine, too,” said Skye and added, “And for you, sister.”
Sam hugged her twin. “I’m glad you could take a few more days to come home for Mom and for Emily. Danny was excited about your visit. Apparently you promised him a tour of the local field office.”
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