“Sally, please, no more killing,” James said. “Put the gun down, and we’ll figure this all out.”
“No, James, we have to get rid of him. He’s going to ruin everything. There’s just no way around it. Do you think I like killing people? Puh-lease. It’s a hassle, but I have to do it.”
The woman was mad, that much was for sure. Sam crouched behind the sofa, making his way around behind it. If he lived long enough, he’d chastise himself for making a mistake later. Now he needed to take this woman down. He could see her silhouette in the kitchen doorway, jerking this way and that with the gun in her hand as she blabbed on about how she had to do this and that. If he could see what kind of gun she had, he could determine how many bullets she had left. That was impossible in the dark. He could hear James’s breathing as he hid behind the other end of the sofa.
“James, come over here so I don’t shoot you accidentally,” she was saying.
Sam made his way over to him and whispered into his ear, “Tell her you’re coming, but stay there.”
“Okay, I’m coming out.”
“Don’t think about taking this gun away from me. I’m not letting you near me. I can’t trust you anymore.”
Sam stood, hands out. If she suspected it was him, she’d cut him down in an instant. He had to take that chance, because she was his only link to finding Maxine. He had to believe she was still alive. The silence gripped him as he took slow steps toward her silhouette.
“Go right over there,” she ordered. “James, say something.”
His time was out. “I—” He bought his last second and lunged for her ankles. She shot straight out, expecting him to go for her hands and the gun. He knocked her off-balance. The gun clattered over the tile floor of the kitchen behind her. She jerked out of his grasp and crawled across the floor.
She had the advantage of knowing the layout. He rolled out of the way, ready for a blast to shatter the air. Nothing. Did she have the gun? He saw her get to her feet. She was standing in front of a doorway. All he could see was a black square that pulsed with the sound of her deep breathing.
In a crouch, he made his way to her, feeling for the gun along the way. As he got closer to her, he could see her shadow next to the open door. A bullet exploded from the gun, so close he heard its zing as it shot past his head.
He moved behind the door—and shoved hard. He was only hoping to knock her off-balance, but the sounds that followed didn’t coincide with her falling to the floor on the other side. He opened the door and felt, rather than saw, the gaping openness of the basement below. He took a tentative step forward, feeling the first step down. She’d fallen down the stairs.
James’s labored breathing alerted Sam to his presence as he made his way through the kitchen. “What’s going on?”
“She fell into the basement. Stay away from the opening,” Sam said, pushing him gently out of the target area. I don’t know if she’s still got the gun.” He hated the darkness. “Where are the circuit breakers?”
“Down there,” James said. “Sally? Are you down there? Are you all right?”
No sound at all emerged from the inky darkness below. Either she’d scrambled away or she was hurt. Or maybe worse. Sam didn’t want her dead. She was the only key to Maxine’s whereabouts.
“I’m going down there,” James said. “She may be crazy, but she’s my sister. She did this for me. Because of me,” his pained voice said as he descended the steps. “She’s down here,” he said a moment later. “I don’t know if she’s alive. Let me get the lights turned on again.”
Sam heard him fumbling with something, stepping around or tripping in the darkness before blissful light flooded the room.
Sally lay sprawled out on the concrete floor below. The fall wasn’t very long, but the landing had to be hell. Sam was down at her side in a moment, feeling for a pulse.
“She’s still alive, but she’s not going to be very informative anytime soon.” His gut churned. Time was running out. Without Sally’s assistance, if she even provided that when she did regain consciousness, he had no way to find Maxine. The police could check the surrounding area, but Sally and Maxine left in a car. They could have gone anywhere. “How long were they gone?”
James shook his head. “I don’t know, an hour maybe. I didn’t pay much attention.”
Sam bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. In the darkness that still permeated his soul as hope drained away, one pinpoint of light shone through. It was a long shot—a hell of a long shot—but it was all he had.
He ran up the stairs. “Call the police, tell them to get an ambulance.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to find Maxine. If Sally says anything at all, try to get her to tell you where she took her. Tell the police. But I can’t wait for her to come to. I’ll be back later.”
On the way out to the car, a black splotch on the white carpet caught his attention. He knelt and ran his fingers over it, lifting it to his nose. Ashes. Just like the black stuff on Sally’s face.
Sam ran out to the car, opening the door to find his salvation waiting patiently on the front seat. Romeo’s long tongue was hanging out, but his eyes were bright and alert among the saggy eyelids.
“You’re going to be a hero,” he said to Romeo. “I’ve got to find something of Maxine’s. Something—” He lifted his head, remembering the time they’d staked out the weasel in the wheelchair. She’d put his gloves on for a while. He opened the glove compartment and pulled out the brown knit gloves. He held them out to Romeo. “Sniff it,” he commanded. The only scents on the gloves would be hers and his. Sam was easy to find. If Romeo showed no interest, then her scent wasn’t enough.
“Find her.”
Romeo’s brown nose wiggled, and he rose to his feet. His tail started moving back and forth, at first slowly, then faster. He kept sniffing, covering every inch of the gloves. Sam moved out of the way as Romeo jumped through the open doorway and started sniffing over the pavement. He made his way to the front door.
“No, she’s not in there,” Sam said. He pointed in the opposite direction. “She’s out there. Somewhere.”
Romeo wended his way to where the driveway started out into the darkness of the surrounding neighborhood. He stopped suddenly and lifted his head, then turned to look at Sam as if to say “This way! She’s this way.” Then he took off, tag jingling in the quiet darkness.
Sam didn’t even bother closing his car door. He ran after Romeo, watching his breath turn to fog in front of him. At the edge of the driveway, the dog stopped and sniffed at the air. Then he turned right, keeping to the side of the road. Romeo could pick up her scent even if she was inside a car when she left. All he needed was the trail of her skin follicles that floated out of the car’s ventilation system and landed near the road. Even if she was in the trunk, Romeo could pick up her scent.
Sam followed, praying the dog knew what he was doing. They were built for this kind of thing, but Romeo had only practiced finding dog treats. All those skin flaps, the ears, everything pushed the scent toward his nose, and that nose was to the ground as he walked along the swale beside the road.
Sam’s heart was up in his throat as they made their way through the cold air and out of the fancy neighborhood. He looked around at the distant glow of the city and the thousand lights all around. She could be anywhere. Then he looked down at Romeo, relentlessly pursuing Maxine’s scent. He had to hope that the dog knew what he was doing. He might be their only hope.
“If you find her, I’ll buy you acreage,” Sam promised. “I’ll build you the biggest dog house any dog ever had. I’ll get you a girlfriend. Five of them. Cats to chase. Anything you want.”
Romeo didn’t even look back at Sam, but kept moving along. Occasionally a car would pause next to them, and the driver would ask if they needed help.
“Just walking the dog,” Sam would say, though it looked unlikely with the homes spreading farther apart. “Thanks anyway.”
&n
bsp; He glanced up at the star-lit sky, washed to the south by the city lights. “Please don’t let her die again,” he heard himself say. “I mean, don’t let her die, too.” After that, he didn’t take his eyes off the dog’s swinging tail.
Once in a while Romeo would pause, lift his head and wiggle his nose in all directions. Sam’s heart would stop, scared to death that he’d lost the trail. Then Romeo would set off in a new direction. Doubts pummeled Sam.
Maybe he was just enjoying a long stroll, or maybe he picked up the scent of a dog in heat. Romeo hadn’t been formally trained for this, other than his built-in instincts. Maxine could be a hundred miles in the opposite direction. But this dog was all he had. Hopefully the police were getting some answers from Sally. He didn’t care who found Maxine, as long as they did. As long as she was alive. God, please let her be alive.
He glanced at his watch. They’d been walking for an hour. Romeo pushed on, even though fatigue showed in the way he walked. His big, floppy paws barely cleared the ground as he pushed onward. Sam knew enough about bloodhounds that they wouldn’t give up, even if they pushed themselves into exhaustion.
Sam tried to lead him to a puddle for a drink, but Romeo wouldn’t stop. The dog’s harsh breathing worried Sam, but he couldn’t give up, couldn’t stop Romeo when the dog didn’t want to stop anymore than Sam did.
They entered a nice, middle-class neighborhood that still had empty lots with spindly trees covering them. Some developer had bought the acreage years ago and then went bankrupt. There were a few homes here and there. Nothing to interest a dog, unless… .
Romeo had something going, and Sam knew it was important that he find it. Sam’s muscles ached, and his legs felt like jelly, but like Romeo, he had to keep going. He could rest, he kept telling himself, when they found Maxine. His mouth was hot and dry, and he inhaled the cool air through his until his teeth ached. Romeo’s pace quickened, despite the wheezing breaths coming from him. Sam saw the foam forming on Romeo’s floppy lips and knew the dog couldn’t last much longer without hurting himself.
A man out walking his dog waved at him, but Sam was too tired to wave back. He did have enough strength to yell across the street, “Did you see a teal blue Sunfire in this area earlier?”
The man paused, though Sam kept up with Romeo. “Nope, I don’t think so. Something going on?”
“Just checking.” Sam was now too far away to continue talking, and too breathless. Romeo’s ears were flapping and flopping with his jerky movements. Then he remembered something: the black ashes on the carpet. Keeping an eye on his dog, he backtracked to the neighbor. “One more question. Was there a fire in this area not long ago?”
“There was a house that went up about a year or so ago. It’s at the end of the road there, about four blocks or so in. We all keep asking that somebody do something about it, but it stays there looking creepy. The kids wanted to make it a haunted house last Halloween…”
Sam was already running to catch up with Romeo. It was a struggle, but he picked the dog up and kept going. Romeo twisted to get out of his grasp. “Take a rest, buddy. If this isn’t it, we’ll do it your way again.”
His lungs were crushed beneath the physical strain. Tension stretched everything inside him tight. He sucked in one painful breath after another, searching the darkness ahead. When he smelled the faint scent of smoke, he ran faster, sending Romeo’s ears up into his face. His eyes watered, but he kept them on the forlorn house off to the right.
Chills washed over him, making the sweat covering him feel like cold rain on his skin. He set Romeo down and ran inside, losing his balance on the uneven floor and bracing himself on the sooty walls. He couldn’t see much, but kept groping through the darkness.
Until he saw a beam of light that slashed across the floor in the room up ahead.
Pulling a painful breath, he yelled out, “Maxine! Maxine, please be alive.”
He made his way to the light. And he heard the noise. Very faint, muffled to the point he couldn’t hear the words, but enough to know it was a voice. Strength surged through him when he saw the refrigerator lying face down, an oven tilted up against it.
He felt it, felt she was in there. He shoved the range away and pulled on the refrigerator, not even knowing where the strength came from. The unwieldy box rolled to the side, and something inside rolled with the movement. He jerked the door open. And heard the sharp intake of breath and the cry in her voice. He couldn’t see much of her, but he saw her hands reach wildly out. He grabbed them, their warmth and life injecting him with such relief, he simply pulled her out and into his arms, squeezing her hard.
“Sam,” she breathed. Then the tears came, and her body was racked with them as she hugged him back.
“Maxine, oh, Maxine.” He wanted to touch her everywhere, just to make sure she was really there and alive. Spots of darkness clouded his vision as his body struggled to calm him and the blood rushing through his veins. He felt her knees give out, and he held her closer. They were both sucking in large gulps of breath. “Let’s get out of here.” Hoisting her up into his arms, he walked gingerly around the debris and Romeo, who was hopping up and down in an attempt to get to his quarry.
Out in the fresh air, he set her down on the cracked sidewalk. Her body was trembling, and she wouldn’t let go of him. Romeo sniffed and licked at her, his tail going so fast Sam couldn’t see it. He’d never seen anything move that fast on Romeo.
“Do you need some help?” the neighbor asked from a short distance away.
“Yes. Call an ambulance, please,” Sam’s hoarse voice shouted out.
Maxine kept sucking in one deep breath after another. Clean, pure air tinted only with the faint scent of Sam’s sweat. She didn’t want to close her eyes for a second, didn’t want to lose sight of him holding her close.
“Please tell me I’m not dreaming this, or I’m not delirious.”
He shook his head, a soft laugh escaping his throat. “You’re not dreaming. You’re alive, sweetheart. Thank God, you’re alive.” He squeezed her close again.
“Sam, say my name,” she whispered. She had to make sure she was still Maxine.
He ran his finger down her cheek. “Maxine.”
It still seemed unreal. Romeo nuzzled her, and she pressed her cheek against his head. She looked up at Sam and asked, “How did you find me?” at the same moment he asked, “How did you stay alive in there?”
They shared a laugh that felt so good, she wanted to keep it in her heart forever. He squeezed her hand.
“Romeo found you. He tracked your scent all the way from the mansion.”
“Oh, my gosh.” She pulled the dog in for a hug, closing her eyes against his soft, damp fur. “How can I ever thank you?” Then she looked up at Sam. “It was Sally. She was behind this all along.”
“I know. I went to the mansion after finding out the police weren’t out there and…” He dropped his head for a moment. “It’s a long story, but miraculously we managed to overpower her. She’s unconscious, or was when we left. Romeo was our only hope, and he came through.” He scratched the dog’s head, but moved his hand right back to her arm. “You’ve been in that thing for what, almost two hours? How did you stay alive in there?”
“I prayed. Then I found a hole, a warp in the molding that let air in. Not a lot, but enough to keep me going…until you found me.”
He pulled her close again. “I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
“Who would have thought Sally was behind it? I didn’t. Please, don’t blame yourself.”
He met her gaze, his eyes seeming to drink her in. He reached up and stroked his finger down her grimy cheek. “I’ll try.”
“You saved my life,” she whispered. “You and Romeo. Don’t ever forget that.”
He was still holding her when the ambulance came and seemed reluctant to let her go even then. She was checked over by the paramedics, but aside from a few scratches and bruises, she was all right. Her lungs felt tight, but each prec
ious breath came easier. From the kindly neighbor’s house, Sam contacted the police and let them know he’d found her. He seemed to argue with them, but stayed firm that he was going to take her to his place, and the police could go there to get their statements. And then he took her home.
CHAPTER 15
SAM BROUGHT Maxine a cup of coffee laced with brandy and French vanilla cream. She took it with both hands, wrapping her trembling fingers around the cup. Even though Sam’s apartment was warm, the chill inside her hadn’t quite left. He sat down beside her on the couch, the place he’d been throughout the entire questioning by the police. Now they were gone, and a comfortable numbness had set in.
She looked up at him, his hair still slightly damp from the shower he’d taken after she’d taken hers. “Do you want to know what I thought about most when I was in that refrigerator?”
“Getting out, I’d imagine.”
“Well, that, too. I thought about you.”
“It’s natural to think about the people in your life when you think it’s over.”
She turned toward him. “Sam, I love you. That’s why I was thinking about you. I was locked in that coffin and all I could think about was that I hadn’t told you I loved you. You don’t have to tell me you love me back. Not until you feel it, anyway. But I’m not letting another minute pass by without telling you that. I almost lost all my chances.” She didn’t tell him she’d scratched the words into the refrigerator wall. She’d tell him that later.
He reached up and touched her cheek, stroking her skin with his thumb. “I can’t tell you I love you because I don’t know what I feel for you.” She could see the honesty in his eyes. “I know I was scared to death of losing you. Let’s give this time and see what happens, all right?”
“All right.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “I know I owe you my life, but I have a favor to ask you.”
“Anything you want.” That didn’t include his heart, she knew.
“I need to feel alive all over, and I know of only one way to do that. I want you to make love to me.”
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