Deadly Inheritance: A Romantic Suspense Page 20

  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.

  “Mine’s dead, now,” Sarah announced, staring at the phone in Nora’s hand before closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall. “I saved my flashlight batteries. For all the good it did me.” Her eyelids fluttered, and she fixed an angry glare on Nora. “Why didn’t you listen to me? Why did you have to come down here?”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you were hurt—that I could help you get out of here.”

  “Well, you didn’t. And now we’re both gonna die here.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. The place is crawling with police. They’ll find us.”

  “They never found me, did they?” Her gaze turned curious. “How did you find that door to the cellar?”

  “Find it? I don’t understand. I just followed the corridor next to the refrigerator.”

  Sarah bit off a dry chuckle. “There’s normally a panel there, painted with that chalkboard paint so I can write things for the shopping list. Are you saying it was open?”

  “Must have been, because I just walked into the hallway and found the cellar door.” With a tired sigh, Nora sat down cross-legged, facing Sarah. “So Gabe, or the police, are sure to come soon. They’ll find us.”

  A clanging noise cut her off. Nora lifted her head to listen, noting that Sarah did the same.

  The clanging turned into a rumbling, whooshing, sound that reverberated through the space, echoing off of the cement walls. Nora winced. The noise pounded into her head.

  The house seemed to tremble a
round them, and then, with an even louder crash, a gush of water spurted out from a pipe high above their heads in the far wall of the pool. Nora leapt to her feet and caught Sarah’s horrified look. She helped Sarah to her feet and propped her up against the wall.

  Within seconds, the water was up to their ankles.

  “What’s happening?” Nora gave Sarah’s shoulder a little shake to get her attention.

  Sarah’s mouth gaped, and her eyes blinked rapidly as her gaze bounced around in terror. “I don’t know,” she moaned, her hands clutching the kitten more tightly against her chest. The kitten meowed piteously, but it seemed too weak to struggle against Sarah’s grip. “I wasn’t allowed this far—I’m not supposed to be here.” She looked at Sarah. “Mr. James’ll punish me—I’m not supposed to be here.” Her voice rose shrilly. “We’re not supposed to be here! His ghost is here!”

  Icy water swirled around their thighs and then their waists. The force of the gushing stream created waves that surged and splashed over their shoulders.

  Nora shivered and gripped Sarah’s arm. “Don’t panic. We need to stay calm. We can float or swim. Maybe the water will bring us within reach of the edge.”

  “Are you crazy? We’re not gonna get out of here—we’re not meant to get out of here. His ghost’ll see to that.” Water lapped their chins. Irrelevant though it was, Nora noticed a fleck of spittle caught at the corner of Sarah’s blue lips.

  Why didn’t she wipe it off?

  Suddenly, her feet left the floor of the pool as the water rose above their heads.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gabe searched the house with growing frustration. First Sarah had disappeared and now Nora. Where could they have gone?

  He sat down on the edge of the bed in Nora’s elaborate bedroom and scratched the back of his neck. Time to get smart. Illusions and misdirection hid the truth at Autumn Hill, and even he had found it difficult not to be distracted by them. He pulled his phone out. Sarah’s cat was also missing. Presumably, she’d gone in search of the cat. And Nora had gone in search of them.

  He assumed they were now together and could be found, if he could see past the illusions.

  He called his sister. “Moira? I need you to bring Einstein here.”

  “I’m fine. It’s so nice of you to ask. How are you?” his sister asked, relentless in her pursuit of civility and manners.

  “Fine. I’m sorry, but I really need Einstein. It’s urgent.”

  “I can’t remember the last time you called me when it wasn’t urgent.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t really have a lot of time. A woman is missing. Two women.” He rattled off directions to Autumn Hill. “The police are here. Just tell them you’re my sister.”

  “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  He was staring at the antique vent in the ceiling and trying to understand why some idiot had bracketed it with a pair of fat cherubs coyly facing away from the grill when he heard shouting.

  Uh, oh. What had Moira done now?

  Downstairs, a straggling line of cops was running toward the front door. Gabe shouldered his way through until he bumped into Gerhardt. The detective was staring down into the moat.

  “What is it?” Gabe looked over his shoulder and was relieved to see his sister sedately drive up and park.

  “The water’s gone,” Gerhardt said.

  “The water—what?”

  “Gone.” Gerhardt stepped forward onto the bridge.

  With his view cleared, Gabe looked down at the moat. Except for a few puddles here and there, and a lot of nasty-looking piles of twigs, rotting leaves, and algae, the water was indeed gone. As he stared, he realized that some of what he thought were twigs were actually bones.

  Thankfully, none looked big enough, or thick enough, to be human.

  “What the hell? Where did it go?” Gabe felt like an idiot as the words left his mouth.

  Gerhardt shrugged. “Leak?”

  “Hey, guys,” Moira strolled up to the drawbridge with Einstein, Gabe’s black poodle, trotting obediently beside her. “What’s up?”

  “I wish I knew.” Gerhardt studied her and shifted subtly until he blocked the bridge.

  Gabe made the introductions as he reached around the detective to take Einstein’s leash. “Thanks for bringing him, Moira.”

  “No dogs,” Gerhardt said. He frowned at the animal.

  Einstein sat down in front of him and gave one small whimper, his huge brown eyes going from the detective’s uncompromising face to Gabe.

  “He can help. Sarah Lennox is missing and now, Nora. We need to find them,” Gabe explained. “This is the fastest way.”

  “Nora?” Moira asked, watching his face in the light from the hallway.

  “Yeah.” Gabe turned so that she couldn’t look into his face directly.

  It didn’t help. She smiled as if she could read every thought that ever wandered through his mind. “Oh, yeah. I see. Love is grand, ain’t it?”

  The tips of Gabe’s ears burned. “Moira, thanks. You can go now.”

  “Are you sure I can’t help?”

  “Three people have died here,” Gerhardt said. “So, no.”

  Moira glanced from the detective to Gabe. Her eyelashes fluttered, but she somehow managed not to look at the dog and bring the animal to Gerhardt’s attention. “Right. Okay, then. I’ll just be going. Call me, Gabe.” She flipped her hand at him in a casual wave and walked quickly to her car.

  “Wait!” Gerhardt called as she climbed inside. “The dog!”

  Moira slammed her door shut and gunned the engine. Smiling like a madwoman, she waved at the detective and then quickly wove her way through the parked cars and drove away in a veil of dirt.

  “You can’t bring that dog in here.” Gerhardt faced Gabe.

  “Well, I can’t leave him out here. And we need to find those women.”

  Gerhardt eyed the dog.

  Einstein wagged his tail.

  “I’ve never heard of a poodle trained to track people,” Gerhardt said. “Is he trained?”

  “Not exactly.” Gabe moved back into the house to allow the detective to enter, as well. “But he has this thing about cats. And Sarah Lennox has a cat.”

  “So you think Ms. Lennox is hiding somewhere with her cat?”

  “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”

  “Just keep him out of our way.” Gerhardt brushed past him and walked back to the study. A few of the policemen who’d been loitering around the hallway suddenly snapped to attention and followed the detective.

  “Come on, boy.” Gabe led the way to the kitchen.

  As soon as they entered the room, Einstein’s tale started wagging. He sniffed the floor and pulled on the leash, trying to get into Sarah’s bedroom. Gabe took the leash off and let him go.

  Einstein raced into the bedroom and sniffed around, pausing at the litter box and the bed. The dog whimpered when he realized there was no cat, despite the elusive scent of one.

  “Find the cat, Einstein. Find the cat,” Gabe encouraged him. Time was slipping away. He couldn’t shake the sense that Nora was in danger, and the sudden emptying of the moat was too much of a coincidence. It had to mean something bad.

  Whining with excitement, Einstein galloped from the bedroom into the kitchen, sniffing wildly as he went. He circled the room once, jumped up on the table and then down, and ran around the room again. He slowed by the refrigerator and then stopped.

  “No, boy. No food. You’ll get a treat when you find the cat.”

  Einstein cocked his head at the sound of Gabe’s voice and then continued sniffing around the refrigerator.

  “Cat, find the cat.” The dog went insane, scratching and barking at the chalkboard wall next to the refrigerator. Gabe tried to pull him away by the collar, but it just made the dog dig even more frantically. “No! I told you, no food until you find the cat. Find the cat.”

  Einstein refused to budge.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a brilliant
idea, after all. He was about the clip the leash on the poodle and drag him away when he noticed a tiny crack in the corner. The chalkboard wall didn’t quite meet the other wall.

  What the hell? Hadn’t they checked this area earlier?

  After a quick glance around, he grabbed a heavy cleaver and went to work on the wall. The panel was a lot flimsier than it looked. It didn’t take him long to realize that there was a corridor behind it that hadn’t been on the blueprint.

  When the gap was large enough, Einstein raced through and headed down the corridor. He barked once at Gabe when he reached a corner and then disappeared around it.

  “Einstein! Stay!” Gabe yelled before widening the gap enough for him to ease through.

  He’d taken one step into the corridor before common sense stopped him. Nora and Sarah had already disappeared. He wasn’t going to make a third. He stopped long enough to throw open the kitchen door and tell the cop sitting outside to find Detective Gerhardt and show him the hidden corridor.

  He just hoped he would actually need the reinforcements and wasn’t just wasting time Nora might not have.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Struggling to keep her mouth above the water, Nora kicked off her shoes. The crashing flood had subsided, but they were still several feet below the edge of the pool. Her heart clenched as she scanned the sheer cement sides. There was no way to climb out.

  How much longer could they stay afloat? Already her muscles ached, and she could feel the warmth slowly draining from her body.

  “Sarah, are you all right?” she called, kicking over to the older woman.

  Sarah’s head was tilted back, with her nose and mouth barely above the water. Her eyelids fluttered at Nora’s question, but she didn’t have the strength to answer. Her lips were blue. As Nora watched, she nearly submerged as she held the kitten above the water in trembling hands while she kicked feebly.

  “Let me hold Dizzy.” Nora gently took the trembling cat out of Sarah’s hands.

  Sarah’s brows wrinkled, and she opened her mouth only to sink below the water. Nora swam closer and nudged the older woman up to the surface. If they couldn’t get out soon, they were going to drown. She kicked enough to float more horizontally and braced the cat on her chest, just under her chin, so she could free her other hand to clutch Sarah’s blouse and keep her head up.