Deadly Inheritance: A Romantic Suspense (21 page)

No one was in the kitchen or in Sarah’s bedroom, and there was no sign of the kitten.

“Nora?” he called, flicking out the light in Sarah’s overly pink room.

The silence deepened his frown. The police said the housekeeper’s car was still parked next to the house. Nora and Sarah had to be here somewhere.

So where were they?

Nora was not surprised when Detective Gerhardt accidentally mentioned Gabe’s speculation that the mist they’d experienced was the result of dry ice and hot water. She’d suspected it herself, despite the fear it evoked.

She would have felt better, though, if they’d discovered that the mist was a result of a malfunctioning air conditioner, or even a ghost. At least those things wouldn’t be so malicious. Or deadly.

Unfortunately, the detective didn’t let any other information slip, and his questioning left her feeling like an orange pulped by a high-powered juicer. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock. It was well after three in the morning. She felt completely exhausted.

“Have you spoken with Sarah?” Nora studied Gerhardt’s face as he stood up and glanced at the door.

His bland expression gave nothing away, although the bags under his eyes showed that he was just as tired as she was. “Not yet. Why?”

“I haven’t been able to find her all afternoon. I’m worried about her.”

“We’ll find her.”

Nora stood reluctantly. Her stiff knees creaked. “Her cat is missing, too. It’s just a kitten, really. I know you’re asking that everyone wait in the den, but I’d like to look for the kitten. It was injured, and although it’s healed, it’s kind of disabled. I want to make sure it hasn’t fallen, or injured itself further. Is that okay?”

Gerhardt opened his mouth and then shut it again. The lines bracketing his mouth deepened.

Nora’s heart sank. He wasn’t going to let her search.

“Fine. Just stay out of the sealed areas.”

She stared at him in surprise and then stuck out her hand. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. And I promise not to interfere with your investigation.”

A spasm of confusion rippled over his face, but he shook her hand and nodded.

Repeating her thanks, she left the room quickly before he could change his mind. She paused in the hallway to consider the situation before walking slowly into the kitchen. If the kitten had wandered off, Sarah might be trying to find it.

So where could they be?

No one had seen either of them on the main floor, or in the bedrooms. That didn’t mean they weren’t on the second floor, but with all the police poking around up there, someone would surely have run into Sarah. Nora opened the pantry door and shifted a few storage boxes before closing the door again.

Sarah’s bedroom didn’t yield anything except a plastic container of cat treats. The box sat on the dresser with the lid open, as if the housekeeper had taken a few to lure Dizzy out of a hiding place. Nora searched the room and bathroom again, just to make sure.

The only result was an increase in her anxiety level. There was fresh food and water set out for the kitten, and as far as Nora could tell, all of Sarah’s things were there. There was even a plain cotton nightgown folded and placed under her pillow. Her key ring sat in a small, Depression glass bowl on her dresser. So Sarah hadn’t left.

Back in the kitchen, Nora opened the back door and studied the small patch of grass between the house and the edge of the moat. A portly, middle-aged policeman standing outside turned in her direction. His shaggy, gray brows rose.

“Just looking for a kitten, a marmalade one. You haven’t seen it, have you?” she asked.

“No, ma’am. Haven’t seen a thing, and I’ve been standing here for over an hour.” His mouth twisted as he shifted from one foot to the other. “My feet are killing me. If you see Detective Gerhardt, could you remind him that Officer Tilton is still on duty? It’s past the end of my shift, and I’ve got reports to do.”

“Just a minute.” Nora stepped back into the kitchen, grabbed one of the chairs and carried it outside. “Here. At least you can get off your feet.”

He took the chair gratefully and sat down with a deep sigh. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You haven’t seen the housekeeper, have you?”

“Sorry, ma’am. I ain’t seen nothing, not even a bat.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair, scanning the dark sky. “Might get to see the sunrise, though. Just a few hours more.”

“Probably.” She grinned back and swung the door open. “I’m going to look for that kitten. If I see the detective, I’ll let him know you’re still here.”

He nodded and settled his interlocked hands over his belly as she turned back to the kitchen. Another glance around revealed a short passageway in a dark corner just beyond the refrigerator. The passageway was lined with wooden cupboards that contained an assortment of objects including old, dented pots, pans, and strange kitchen utensils whose purpose was a mystery. Unfortunately, despite the abandoned feeling, the floor was too clean to reveal if anyone had passed that way recently.

It was probably hopeless, but Nora entered the hall. A touch of confusion made her frown. She couldn’t remember seeing this area on the blueprint.

They must have missed it. Trying to check the entire house had been so tedious and exhausting that it was no wonder this small area slipped their notice.

The corridor bent to the right, and a few yards further on, there was another door. To her surprise, it led to a rickety, wooden staircase going down into the darkness of a cellar.

What the heck?
She couldn’t remember seeing a cellar in the blueprint. Her uneasiness increased.

On a small shelf next to the door was a flashlight. Nora picked up the light and stood on the small landing at the top, staring into the gloom. When she flicked on the flashlight, the beam barely reached the square of cement at the bottom of the stairs.

Basements were rare because of the high water table, and she hesitated, feeling unsure about exploring it. However, the dirt floor looked dry enough, even though the water table was the reason so many people could have ponds in their yards. It probably even made her uncle’s moat possible.

The Polly Ann-ish part of her piped up. Maybe that was it. Maybe the moat hadn’t been built to keep people out, or to keep people in. Maybe the water under the house was pumped into the moat to keep the cellar dry.

It was such a nice theory that she really wanted to believe it. It made Uncle Archie seem much less mean and definitely saner. The problem was, she still had that apprehensive itch in the middle of her back. She flashed the light around again, wishing she could see more.

The usefulness of the moat as a place to dump water drained from the cellar was more likely to be just a happy coincidence than a reason for the moat.

Get real, girl.

The beam picked out a few limp cardboard boxes lining the wall. Several of them had dark stains seeping up from where they touched the floor, indicating dampness.

She took one step down. The stairs creaked. A trickle of dust spiraled down from the stair and disappeared into the gloom. She clutched the rough, wooden handrail. The wood felt jagged and uneven beneath her palm, and she jerked away before deliberately taking a firmer grip. Splinters were the least of her worries. She took another step. Then another.

Thirty steps in all. The staircase was much longer and steeper than she had anticipated.

How deep was this place? She flashed the light around again, gritting her teeth in an effort to suppress a jumpy twitch every time a shadow loomed. Boxes, shelves with dusty jars, broken garden implements, and all the detritus that seemed to build up over the years. She focused the beam on the floor.

Was it just her imagination, or were there footprints in the dust? Interspersed with the human footprints were the tiny, rounded prints of a cat wandering here and there.

Her heartbeat increased.
I was right!

“Sarah?” Her voice wavered. She swallowed and called again, “Sarah? Are you down here?”

A faint noise echoed through the gloom.

“Sarah?” Nora aimed the light at the far wall.

Another weak, indistinct reply.

Nora stared in the direction of the sound. Damp, crumbling boxes were stacked up, some of them spilling out their contents of wrinkled, gray fabric. Clothing and a few cloth shoes, perhaps slippers. One small shoe that looked like a ballet slipper lay on the cement floor, the toe pointing at her.

The beam from her flashlight wavered as her hand shook. She focused the light on the wall again. A pale, straight line outlined a darker rectangle.

A door.

Nora flashed the light back to the stairs and doorway to the house, back to sanity and the safe company of the police.

No
. It was just creepy. Sarah might have sprained her ankle, or something, and be unable to climb the stairs to get help. Nora refused to give in to cowardice, even though Gabe’s strong face seemed to hang in her mind. Her hand felt cold, hanging down at her side without Gabe’s warm fingers holding hers.

He didn’t like clinging, helpless females, that much she knew. Well, she didn’t want to be one, either.

She straightened her shoulders and walked briskly through the doorway into another storage room. The space might be smaller, but it contained the same mildewing boxes and a few shelves lining the rough, wooden walls.

Her light illuminated the dingy gray mason jars—mercifully empty—on the shelves, along with a few stacks of metals rings and lids for the jars. A huge empty pot sat next to one clump of quart-sized jars. Cobwebs covered the shelf and hung down from the edge, and even the cobwebs were thick with dust.

No one had done any canning for a very long time.

A water heater stood in one corner, with pipes leading up through the ceiling.

In the far corner, she saw the outline of another door. “Sarah?”

“Here!” The housekeeper’s voice sounded a little louder, but still wavering and weak.

Nora hurried through the door into another room. There were no shelves or boxes in this storage room, just another door opposite the one through which she had entered, and a mammoth spider web draping one corner. She hurried across the area, praying this was the last room.

The final space was huge, and for some reason, it looked like an abandoned indoor swimming pool. She sniffed, almost expecting to smell the chlorine, and flicked the light around. In front of her was an enormous, sunken space that stretched so far that its distant edges were lost in the darkness. The cement-lined pool, if that’s what it was, had to be at least fifteen feet deeper than the cellar. Between the doorway where she stood and the lip of the pool lay an aluminum ladder.

“Sarah!” she called, walking forward.

“I’m here. Get me out—please!” Sarah’s voice trembled with pain.

Nora grabbed the ladder as she passed it and moved cautiously to the edge.

The light of her flashlight picked out Sarah sitting on the floor of the pool, cradling Dizzy in her lap. She squinted up, blinking rapidly as the light hit her in the face.

“Are you hurt? Can you wait while I get some help?” As she spoke, she placed the flashlight on the floor beside her and eased the ladder down to rest a few feet away from Sarah.

“Dizzy’s sick, I think she fell. And we haven’t had anything to drink.” A sob broke through her words. She stopped and rubbed her eyes in the crook of her arm. “Just help us. I—I think I sprained my ankle.”

“I can get you out.” Nora picked up the flashlight and hesitated at the top rung of the ladder before clumsily gripping the light under one arm and climbing down. She was almost at the floor when Sarah seemed to realize what she was doing.

“No—don’t!” Sarah said sharply. “Don’t come down here!”

Nora stepped down onto the cement. Her hands brushed the edges of the ladder as it suddenly rose. She flashed the light up in time to see a pair of white, disembodied hands pull the ladder out of view.

“Hey!” Nora shouted. “Hey—we need that ladder!”

Silence.

The flashlight beam bounced and skittered as she flicked it around the rim of the pool. Nothing. When she finally focused it near Sarah, the housekeeper was staring at her with dull, hopeless eyes. She clasped Dizzy in the crook of her left arm while her right hand stroked the animal, apparently unaware of her soothing gesture.

“I told you not to come down here,” Sarah whimpered. “I tried to tell you.” Another wrenching cry cracked her brittle words.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Nora methodically ran the light around the space.

It was a gigantic cement depression, roughly rectangular, with walls that stretched at least a six feet above their heads. Several drains interrupted the smooth flooring. The holes were round and six inches in diameter. Completely useless.

Sarah shook her head. “I don’t know. I came down here looking for Dizzy. She’d fallen in and was meowing something pitiful. I couldn’t stand it no more.” She swallowed convulsively and rubbed her face again in the crook of her arm, leaving dusty streaks on her gray cheeks. “I got me the ladder and climbed down and the same thing happened. Someone took the ladder. I called and called, but no one never answered.”

“Why didn’t you take your cell phone?”

“Check yours.”

Nora pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. No bars. Despite that, she flicked it on and tried to call Gabe.

Nothing
.