by Lesley Diehl
“I’m here by myself.” I tried to convey a tone of confidence and assurance. I walked down a line of shelved periodicals and moved farther into the vast room toward the direction from which I’d heard the sound. Nothing. I turned the corner and began to explore in a zigzag pattern, down one aisle and then around that shelving to walk back up the other side of it.
As I rounded a stack I found I had worked myself to the left of the stairs and now encountered an entryway which led to the room housing oversized books and the local state history collection. I entered and searched in a similar manner, but Amy wasn’t there. A noise as if someone had knocked over a pile of books reverberated through the open doorway and from behind me. I retreated from the room back into the larger area and hid myself at the end of the nearest book shelf.
I looked around the corner of the shelving and let out a gasp. Not Amy but the two young men in Father’s employ, the ones I’d encountered earlier today, stood between me and my escape back up the stairs. Their appearance chilled the room further. Maybe there was another way out of here. There had to be, I told myself, because of fire regulations. I tiptoed down the row of shelving and back into the area toward the wall farthest away from the entrance.
“Hey,” called a voice from behind me. “Stop right there.”
My heart beat out a staccato rhythm of fear.
Paralyzed for a moment, I stood still, my eyes searching for a way out, then I ran along the back wall thinking I might have missed seeing an exit there. No way out. I turned left to explore that wall. As I passed one of the stacks, a hand reached out and grabbed my arm.
“Where is she?” demanded the taller, more heavily muscled of Father’s goons as I struggled to get free.
“I don’t know what you mean. She’s not here.” I wriggled my arm out of my coat and jerked free of the other sleeve I sprinted along the wall, hoping they would both pursue me and not split up to head me off. My only hope was to outrun them back toward where I’d entered the basement.
Beneath one of the lights a sign read Tunnel to Classroom Building One. I was right. There was another exit.
My salvation. I gambled that my long legs gave me an advantage in speed over the young men who looked too muscular to be spending time in the gym doing anything other than lifting weights. I grabbed the doorknob and turned it, fearing it might be locked this late at night. The door opened with no resistance. Once through it, I was confronted by a set of steps leading down to the tunnel. A chain with a sign hung across the entry. This time the words were not encouraging: Tunnel Closed Due to Flooding.
I was screwed.
Seventeen
I peered ahead but could see nothing. There must have been lights in the tunnel, but because it was closed, they were off. Maybe there was a switch on the wall. I felt for one, but my hand only encountered the cold and damp cinderblock. I heard voices coming from behind me.
“She went in here.”
“No way. I checked that when we came in. The tunnel is closed. Let’s go. She must be hiding behind one of these shelves. We’ll find her.”
Good. I’d stay here until they gave up their hunt for me or until one of the library personnel came down here to close up for the night.
Behind me, the door I’d opened to the tunnel closed on its mechanism with a loud click.
“What was that?”
“The tunnel door closing. She must have gone in there. Now we’ve got her.”
I had no choice. I’d have to wade through the water toward the other end and hope they wouldn’t follow me, but how deep was the water? How long was the tunnel, and would the door at its end be locked?
I moved my foot down one step, then another. When I descended one more I encountered water. Not so bad. It was only a few inches deep. I moved forward, stumbled and fell to my knees, soaking my jeans and the sleeves of my shirt. I had miscalculated the number of steps to the floor. I struggled to my feet, knee deep in the cold flood. Bracing myself on the wall, I took another step forward. This time the water came to my thighs. I stuck out my foot to check the depth ahead of me. It got deeper, up to my chest and without my coat and wet to the skin, I knew I couldn’t stay here long. I’d have to move, and fast, or hypothermia would set in. I began to wade forward as fast as I could.
One foot in front of the other, cold water surrounding me, inky darkness enveloping my body and my mind, I heard a sound from behind me and knew they’d entered the tunnel. I forged ahead, steadying myself with one hand on the wall. That single contact with a solid, unmoving surface kept me from hysteria.
Their voices came nearer, and I wondered if I had somehow turned around in this tunnel and was walking toward them instead of away. I felt dizzy and disoriented. Keep walking, Hera, I told myself. You’re imagining the worst.
My hand hit something on the wall, and I stopped. It felt familiar and I suppressed a small squeal of delight. A light switch. But I was up to my armpits in water. Did I dare flip that switch, or would I electrocute myself? My only satisfaction envisioning that possibility was the knowledge the bad guys would fry, too. Too chancy. I’d plunge ahead in darkness.
Their voices got louder, and I got colder, my pace slowing. My foot hit something in the water, steps, and I realized I’d come to the end of the tunnel. I’d made it. I reached out with numb fingers feeling for a door knob. After fumbling around for a minute, I found the knob and turned it. It was locked.
“I don’t hear nothin’.” The voice was close enough that I imagined reaching back and shoving its owner into the water. I might catch him off guard, but there were two of them. Even if he bumped into his partner, all I’d accomplish was to get them as soaked as me and give away my position.
“Maybe we should go back. She probably made it to the classroom building and is out of here already.”
“Chad, you are the dumbest person I’ve ever met. If she made it out of this tunnel, then so can we. Why go all the way back? The door out of here has to be just ahead.”
I wanted to scream, “No, it isn’t. Go back, go back,” but I heard a sound from beyond the door. Or did I? Was my mind deceiving me because I wanted it to? No. There it was again. Someone was behind that door. I put my hand back on the knob and felt it turn, then heard a click as the bolt disengaged.
“What was that?” asked the voice I now recognized as Chad’s. I could almost feel his breath on my neck.
I helped turn the knob and pulled the door toward me. Light spilled into the flooded tunnel.
“Jeremiah?”
I looked up at the tall man silhouetted in the doorway.
Father Charles.
Hands grabbed me from behind.
“We got ‘er for ya,” said Chad.
Father was not deceived. “It looks as if I’ve got her. I shouldn’t send boys to do a man’s job.”
Father reached out and pulled me into the lighted passageway, his strong fingers encircling my wrist.
“Now,“ he said, “you’ll tell us where she is.”
“I don’t know. She didn’t show up tonight.”
Father looked puzzled for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, but a sound from behind him made him turn around.
“Let her go,” said Jeremiah.
“It’s the freaky one, the one who looks like a ghost,” said Chad’s pal.
“Take care of him,” ordered Father.
“I don’t think you want to do that.” From behind Jeremiah, Petroglyph Cliff emerged with two county sheriff’s men.
Father smiled. “What I meant was we should help him take care of Hera. She’s soaked to the skin.”
“Running away from your men,” I said.
“Now, why would you want to do that? They only wanted to talk with you.”
The two Father companions nodded their heads in agreement and tried to put innocent smiles on their faces.
“Oh, my. I hope my boys didn’t frighten you,” Father said, “but we were searching for someone.”
“Who
?” asked Cliff.
“Amy Farnell,” I said. “They knew she was going to talk to me about Bruce’s murder.” By the surprise on Father’s face, I knew I’d made a mistake and a serious one. It wasn’t Amy they wanted. They’d followed me interested in someone else. I’d given away Amy to them, and now I worried she’d be punished.
A smirk replaced the look of astonishment on Father’s face for a moment, then he reached up to stroke his beard, wiping away any expression there.
“Ah, yes, of course, Amy. She’s so young and naïve. I was worried you might intimidate her into saying something self-incriminating, so I rushed to find you two. To help her, of course.”
Chad looked puzzled, but his friend hit him, and the two of them nodded their heads in agreement with Father’s words.
“They were after me,” I said, “and now they’ll hunt down Amy, too.”
“I think she’s in shock,” said Father. “She’s not wearing a coat, and she’s soaked through.”
“You’re right,” said Jeremiah. “Hera, we need to get you to the hospital.”
“I’m fine. Arrest these bums,” I said.
“They threatened you?” asked Cliff.
“Well, kind of.”
“Look, let’s take this up later. She’s shaking,” said Jeremiah.
It was as if seismic waves rocked my body, my bones shaking so hard I thought they would break. Jeremiah threw his coat around my shoulders, and I leaned on him as he walked me up the stairs and out of the building to the car.
I wanted to ask him a lot of questions, but my brain wouldn’t allow me to engage my mouth. Even if it had, I don’t think I would have known what to ask. The water had frozen my mind and left a block of ice in its place.
~
“It seems you’ve had a run of bad luck lately,” said the doctor on duty in the emergency room. He was the same one I’d seen at the clinic for the bump on my head. The nurses had removed my clothes and wrapped me in blankets, but the shivering refused to stop.
“Let’s get you in a tub of warm water,” said the doctor. “Your core temperature has dropped. We need to bring it up.”
That sounded good. Someone wheeled me out of the examining room and up the elevator to a room containing a tub. I slipped into the water. Warmth at last.
The heat of the bath made me sleepy, and my nose was about to go under when a hand touched my shoulder.
I twisted my neck around to see who was there. “Kathleen. What are you doing here?”
“A better question is what you’re doing at the hospital again. Megan said you were here. Jeremiah called her and told her what happened tonight.”
“I had a bit of a run-in with Father and his soul mates. I thought they were looking for a student I’d arranged to meet. Why are you here?”
“Sara is gone. I thought perhaps Father took her, but now it appears she ran away.”
I looked around the room for my clothes. “I need to get out of here.” I was about to step from the tub to search for clothing when a nurse came into the room and heard me.
“My dear, the doctor wants you to stay for the night for observation.”
“I need to check myself out of here. Now.”
She shook her head and left.
“Quick, Kathleen, hand me that towel before she comes back here with reinforcements.”
“You can’t walk out of here clothed in just a towel.”
“There has to be a supply room around here with something in it I can use.”
“I wish I could tell you this could wait until morning, but the weather is so awful. I’m worried about Sara. She has no friends in the area, and I know she wouldn’t go back to Father. Where could she be?”
I knew where she’d go, but the problem was how she could possibly get there at this time of night with the roads almost impassable. Worse, I knew Father’s group would be out searching for her. I couldn’t let her fall back into their hands.
“Go find Jeremiah for me, would you? Meantime, I’ll scout around this floor to see what I can find in the way of clothing.”
I sneaked up and down the halls. Doors to supply rooms were locked, and staff break areas were in use by people who would find my presence suspicious, especially wearing nothing other than a towel.
My luck changed. Kathleen returned with Jeremiah, who had driven the short distance to his sister’s house and borrowed some of her clothes, because he was worried mine were too dirty to wear when I was released. Good fortune continued to shine down on us as we made our way out through an unlocked basement supply door.
Kathleen followed Jeremiah and me in his sister’s car as we headed slowly and cautiously out of town. As predicted, but much later than was expected, cold arctic air swept in, freezing the water on the roads. Now we faced a sheet of ice covering the pavement. Jeremiah tried my land line at home, but now there was no answer. The telephone lines with their coating of ice must have gone down, and Megan had no cell phone.
I was certain Sara would go to Megan, to my place. I just didn’t know how she could manage that in this weather.
We slipped and slid, skidded and sledded down the road to my brewery. When we got there, I worried we might not make it up the drive, but it was frozen only in places.
My place was dark. Jeremiah jumped out of the car as soon as he parked and ran to the house.
Perhaps the power lines had come down with the weight of the ice on them, leaving the house without lights. I got out of the car, hesitated a moment, then followed him to the house. He opened the back door and flipped the wall switch. The kitchen lights came on, flooding the room with a yellowish glare. A piece of paper was positioned on the kitchen table.
Jeremiah picked it up and read it. “It’s from Megan. I recognize her handwriting.” His face showed concern rather than relief. “Something’s wrong.”
I took the note from his hands and read it:
Sara got a ride here from one of the county road crew trucks. I’m taking her someplace safe. Don’t
It ended abruptly. I met Jeremiah’s worried look with my own. “Someone’s been here already. There were fresh ruts in the drive behind the house. I noticed them when I got out of the car.”
“Someone interrupted her writing,” said Jeremiah.
Kathleen had entered the house and stood near the door, listening to our conversation. “Father?”
“I think so. He was looking for Sara. Somehow he knew she’d run off and figured she’d come here to Megan.”
Jeremiah voiced my concerns. “Did Megan and Sara get away, or did Father find them here?”
“I’m phoning the sheriff’s department to tell them Father may have taken the two of them. Even if he didn’t, he has no right to contact Sara,” Kathleen said.
I walked over to Jeremiah while Kathleen made her call. “She’s a smart gal.” I laid my hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“Where would Megan take her that was safe?” he asked.
“Deni and Ronald’s, perhaps, but I think they would have gotten in touch.” My cell was at the hospital. I glanced at the kitchen phone. The message light wasn’t blinking. “I’ll call them just in case.”
As I suspected, Megan and Sara were not there.
“Reverse psychology on Father?” asked Jeremiah. “Maybe Megan took her back to her foster home.”
Kathleen shook her head. “I called there. No sign of them.”
“I want to know how Father knew Sara was gone,” I said. “He insisted I knew where she was.”
“I think he called her foster home, masquerading as one of my staff and saying he needed to talk with her about the hearing. Her foster parents went up to her room and found her gone. He hung up, and they called me. I’ll bet he intended to kidnap her, and that’s why he made contact,” Kathleen said.
“Sara may have fled just in time then,” I said.
“Damn,” said Jeremiah. “This is all my fault.”
“How?” I asked.
He sighed deeply and pulled out a kitchen chair. “Sara only agreed to live with her foster family because Megan and I made a promise to her, one we failed to keep.”
Both Kathleen and I took seats at the table. Freezing rain hit against the kitchen window, tap, tapping, like bony fingers trying to draw our attention toward the world outside, a place of unrelenting danger for two young women alone in the storm.
Jeremiah looked like a skeleton himself, his white lashes wet with tears, eyes reddened from lack of sleep and worry. A sudden shiver made my hands tremble. I hid them in my lap but not before Kathleen caught the tremor.
“I’m going to make some coffee,” she said. Before I could get up, she stopped me with her hand on my arm. “Point me toward the right cupboard. And toast. We need something to eat.”
Although Jeremiah had seemed anxious to confess what he saw as his failure with Sara, now he seemed to be in another world. He hung his head and muttered words too low for Kathleen and me to hear.
I looked at the wall clock. Morning was still hours away. I wished Jake were here.
“Megan and I were going to get married,” I heard Jeremiah say.
Kathleen poured cups of coffee and stuck slices of bread in the toaster.
“What?” I asked.
“Megan promised Sara we would marry, and then we could adopt her. She would live with us. We were supposed to get our blood tests today, but with the storm coming and all, we thought it would be better to wait. Megan called Sara to tell her. I guess she felt she couldn’t stay there another minute, so she ran off.”
Kathleen dropped into a chair. “A kind and sincere gesture on your parts, I’m sure, but a new marriage between two people who met less than a month ago? I don’t think the judge would have gone for that.”
“Megan and I are in love. We want to get married, and now it may be too late.”
“Megan will get in touch with us, you, if she can.” I was aware that as the hours since she and Sara left went by with no word, it was likely Father had found them.