Authors: Iris Johansen
Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Mystery, #Suspense, #Thriller
Darkness.
Sour whiskey.
Suffocating walls closing in around her.
A coffin, the cupboard was like a coffin.
She took three deep breaths.
Okay, get control.
Doane had done his best to terrify her and make sure she knew how hopeless her situation was. Now she had to clear her head and look for a way out.
She had a few hours without Doane. The bar where Zander had told her he had placed the gun and phone were only yards away. If Zander hadn’t lied to her. She had to believe he had not deceived her. She needed something to believe in right now. But how to get out of this damn cupboard …
It had been a bolt lock. The cupboard must be over a century old and been left to rot in this place. Pinewood was not strong like oak. She had managed to pry open the drawer of the desk at the coin factory by shattering the wood around the lock.
She looked down at her handcuffed wrists. She’d have to be Houdini to get out of them. She had no tool to pry anything.
She heard a scampering outside the cupboard. The roof rats with which Doane had been taunting her, she thought absently. She could almost see their sharp teeth gnawing at every piece of wood within sight. She and Joe had been plagued by those rats one summer at the cottage. They had been difficult to get rid of because they were voracious eating machines.
She stiffened. And those eating machines would not have left this pine cupboard alone without taking at least a few bites.
Perhaps weakening the wood around those hungry bites.
She began to carefully run the tips of her fingers over the surface of the wood. Nothing obvious. Doane would have noticed if there was anything that would herald a weakness in this coffin in which he had stuffed her. Nothing near the bolt itself.
She slid down to her knees and began to go over the wood wall close to floor level.
Nothing.
She moved to the corner of the cabinet.
Coolness.
Air!
Her heart leaped as she felt a tiny flow of air streaming into the cupboard from the bottom-left corner. She probed, explored the area. Two inches. The wood surrounding it was brittle, jagged and pointed like little knives. She pulled her fingers back and found one of them bloody.
Fine. She’d probably get blood poisoning.
Stupid. She was worrying about blood poisoning at a time like this?
She examined the rest of the cupboard but came up with no other openings. She’d have to go with the one she’d found in the bottom corner.
How much time had passed? Not long. It only seemed like decades had gone by since she’d been stuffed in this cupboard.
She pushed against the wood at the upper edge of the hole that could eventually lead toward the bolt. It moved. She pushed again.
It splintered!
She tried to be careful as she cleared the sharp splinters away and widened the hole. Three inches wide now.
She hit the area with the handcuffs binding her wrists, and the wood moved, then splintered.
Bruises instead of cuts. She’d take it.
She’d take anything that would get her far enough up in this cupboard to release that bolt. But she had an idea that she’d have to take a hell of a lot of more punishment before she got that far. But it was working. She had a chance if Doane stayed away long enough. She wanted to hurry, to rush it, but that would be a good way to do serious damage with those sharp splinters.
She started to carefully clear away the jagged splinters from the latest hole.
Stay away, Doane.
Your vicious little rat friends have betrayed you and given me a way out.
Just give me another hour …
Rio Grande Forest
Colorado
“THE TRUCK IS GONE.” ZANDER
stopped on the hill, gazing down at the coin factory. He muttered a curse. “I was hoping that they’d still be here.”
“Maybe Eve’s here.” Joe started down the hill, his gaze raking the surrounding woods for possible ambush. “She could still be inside.”
“Not likely. Doane wanted her to complete that reconstruction, and he’d be hounding her to do it.” Zander followed Quinn toward the coinery. “The odds are that if he’s gone, she’s gone.”
“You appear to have a handle on the situation between them,” Stang said. “She must have confided a good deal to you.”
“Confided?” Zander shrugged. “That’s not the word I’d use. But I studied the dynamics between them, and I can make an educated guess about action and reaction.” He called to Joe. “Check the windows and see if you spot any movement inside but don’t bust into the house. Eve said that he’d rigged gas jets in the ceiling. It’s almost certain to still be booby-trapped. Doane’s son taught him a lot about military skullduggery.”
“I wouldn’t risk Eve by doing that,” Quinn said coldly. “I was a SEAL. I know the advantages of a surgical strike versus an all-out assault. At least until we get her free.” He’d reached the bottom of the hill and faded into the shrubbery that surrounded the house.
“He’s very good,” Zander murmured to Stang as his gaze followed Quinn. “Not even a rustle or hint of movement in those bushes.”
“I’m sure he’d appreciate your approval,” Stang said. “Not.”
“He should appreciate it. It’s not lightly given.”
“You’re not going after him?”
“Why? I don’t think Doane’s here.” He grimaced. “And I have to conserve my strength. This damn arm is getting in my way.”
“Since you should have fainted by the wayside by now, I wouldn’t complain.”
“But you’re not me, are you? I’ll complain if I like.” His gaze was narrowed, circling the trees. “Interesting. This area looks amazingly similar to the photo that Jane MacGuire sent to Quinn.” Joe Quinn had stopped on the trail about a mile from here and pulled up the photo and compared it to the landscape. “Coincidence, Stang?”
“I’m sure you think it is.”
“But Eve Duncan would not, nor would a certain priest I met in Tibet. So who is correct?”
“You tell me.”
“Why, I am, Stang.” He smiled. “I’m always correct.”
“But you didn’t tell me which way you were leaning.”
“I didn’t, did I?” He stiffened. “Quinn’s coming around the other side. I hear him.”
Seconds later, Quinn emerged from the shrubbery. “Lights blazing but no one inside.” He frowned with frustration. “I’m tempted to go in anyway. There could be something that would give us a clue to where they went.” He strode to the front door. “It’s so damn—” He stopped. His gaze was on an object high up in the eaves. “What the hell? You told me there weren’t any cameras here, Zander.”
Zander went still. “There weren’t any cameras when I was here before. Not in the trees. Not anywhere near the house.” He was beside Quinn in seconds, looking up at the eaves. “And I checked there, too. No camera.” He tilted his head. “It’s not an entrance camera, it’s pointed at the front grounds area and the trail.” His gaze narrowed. “And it’s running. It probably detected us on the trail and started operating.”
“Who’s receiving that picture? There’s no one inside the house,” Quinn said. “And if what you said is true, then the camera was probably put in right before Doane left. That means he wanted to keep tabs on anyone who might discover that this might be where he was keeping Eve.”
“Why bother?” Stang asked. “If he was going to take her out of the area, what would it matter?”
“What, indeed?” Zander said. “Unless, he wanted Eve to finish the reconstruction and wasn’t sure there was any danger. He’d want to set up a signal that would tell him if he should move out.” He strode away from the door and around the corner of the house and gazed at the ridge that formed the rim of the punch-bowl valley. “Are you down there, Doane?” he murmured. “Wait for me, I’m coming.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Quinn was standing beside him. “What’s down there? What’s the story on the ghost town you were telling us about?”
“Just a ghost town called Drakebury Springs. I went there first when I was searching for Doane. When I was in the saloon, I found fresh boot tracks in the dust, and I thought it possible Doane had been there scouting out a place but decided against it. Then when I found the coin factory, I knew I’d struck gold.” He shrugged. “But maybe Doane had second thoughts. Even with these foothills and ridges between that town and us, he might have had a clear enough signal so that he could feel safe down there even if we found this place.”
“And any smartphone could be set up to signal him that the camera had turned on.” He turned to Zander. “How certain are you that Doane could be down there?”
“Not certain at all. But it’s a possibility.” He started down the trail that led to the valley. “And it’s also a distinct probability that if I’m right, Doane knows we’re here and that the ghost town might be our next stop. I suggest we get down there before he takes off with Eve.” He added over his shoulder, “My car is parked in the trees about a hundred yards from here. You and Stang are welcome to come along.”
“Shit.” Quinn was dialing his phone as he strode quickly after Zander. “Venable. Jane said that he’d be heading in this direction as soon as he confirmed that coin factory. We need help.”
“I don’t want Venable.”
“Screw you. I want everyone I can get.” He spoke into the cell phone. “Venable, I need you to head for a ghost town, Drakebury Springs. It’s near the coin factory you and Kendra were searching for. You can track my cell phone for the coordinates. We’re heading there now.”
“I have the coordinates for the coin factory. That’s the target.”
“We’ve been there. Doane has left. Zander believes he may be down in the ghost town. How fast can you get there?”
“Soon. Wait for me.”
“Can’t wait. Doane may know we’re here. Get going!” He hung up and got in the car. Stang jumped into the backseat, and Zander took off.
Joe’s phone rang. Kendra. “Quinn, I just heard from Venable. Wait for us. Don’t go in alone. Margaret and I are on the ridge above the ghost town, heading toward you. We’ll be there within five minutes.”
Joe glanced at the ridge. He could see a dark gray sedan on the winding road around the mountain that would cross their path in the five minutes Kendra had designated … maybe.
“Stay back. Venable’s coming.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s not too far behind us,” Kendra said grimly. “And he’s coming on a little too strong. I don’t—There’s a tree or something in the road ahead. I didn’t need this, dammit. It looks like some kind of—”
The road in front of Kendra exploded into a fiery inferno
.
“My God.”
Kendra’s car careened to the side of the road, and she was clearly struggling for control. The smoke was so thick that it was impossible to see if she’d actually plunged into the flames.
Then the smoke cleared, and they could see that she was hanging half-off the road, over the valley below.
“Get out!” Joe shouted.
“I doubt if she can hear you,” Zander said. “She would have to have nerves of steel not to have dropped the phone.” He glanced at the flaming plume in front of Kendra’s car. “And I think the passenger door is opening. They may be okay.”
The next moment, the two women emerged out of the passenger door onto the road.
“Run, dammit. Run, Kendra.” Joe said through his teeth as he saw the flames licking backward from the blast to envelop the car.
They were already running.
The next minute, the gas tank of the car blew, knocking Kendra and Margaret to the ground.
“I’d say that Doane expected visitors,” Zander said. “And decided to put out the
DO NOT DISTURB
sign.” He glanced at Kendra and Margaret, who were getting to their knees. “I’m not stopping, Quinn. That blast might be Doane’s first warning shot. I want to be there before he fires the second.”
“I’m not asking you to stop.” He glanced at the twin fiery plumes that were clawing at the sky. Then he looked back at the ghost town in the valley below. “He’s down there. Eve’s down there. Let’s go get them.”
* * *
THE SECOND EXPLOSION SHOOK
the floor of the saloon, causing Eve to lose her balance and fall to her knees.
What was happening? What was Doane doing?
She had just managed to slide her handcuffed hands through the broken wood and manipulate the bolt to free herself when the first explosion had gone off.
She had been on her way across the room toward the bar when the second explosion had happened.
Was it Doane? Or maybe Zander had shown up and set off both explosions. How the hell did she know? Her job was to take advantage of what might be a diversion and get out of here.
And find Zander’s weapon and phone to protect herself before she did it.
She hurriedly crawled the additional few yards around the back of the bar. Zander had said he’d pushed it far back out of sight on a shelf beneath the bar …
She could see a shelf, but there was no weapon. Did you lie to me, Zander?
Don’t give up. It could be at the other end of the bar.
She twisted around and quickly started crawling.
She suddenly stopped, frozen.
“Dear God,” she whispered.
She could go no farther—the way was blocked.
By three kegs that were marked:
DANGER. EXPLOSIVE.
Several sticks of dynamite were fastened to each keg, neatly arranged in evenly spaced rows. On top was what appeared to be a triggering mechanism, with a red LED display glowing in the darkness.
“Bitch!” Doane was standing at the open end of the bar behind her. “How did you—” He was striding toward her. “Come out and join the party.”
She had been so shocked that she had not heard his footsteps crossing the wood floor. She was cornered, huddled against the kegs of explosives. “What were you blowing up, Doane? I assume it was you.”
“I’ll take you to see for yourself.” He grabbed the handcuffs on her wrists and jerked her to her feet. “And let them see you.” His gaze raked her face and body. “Look at you, all bloody and scratched as if you’d been crawling through barbed wire. I couldn’t be more pleased. You did me a favor by breaking out of that cupboard. You almost made it, didn’t you?”