“Get inside!” Simmons shoved Murph forward.
Dillon came charging down the hallway.
“Stay!” Murph told the German shepherd.
The dog stopped in front of the open kitchen door, his hackles stiff, fangs bared in a snarl.
Simmons aimed the gun at the dog.
Murph prepared to kick the weapon out of the man’s hands. He stepped in front of the gun. “Back, Dillon.”
Still growling, the dog backed into the kitchen and Murph kicked the door shut. He didn’t want to provoke the man further.
Murph continued past the kitchen door, moving as slowly as he felt he could manage. He peered down the hallway. At first glance the place seemed deserted and he felt a wash of relief. Maybe everyone was safely out of the way.
Simmons followed Murph through the house, prodding him with the nose of the pistol. “Into the living room.”
Murph made his way there with Simmons following at a safe distance. Dillon continued to protest in the kitchen. As they stepped into the living room, Simmons took a wary glance at the basement door, which stood ajar. He motioned with the pistol for Murph to sit down on the couch.
“Looks like your girlfriend left you to face the music alone.” Simmons sneered. “That’s fine with me. I bet she’s told you everything I need to know.”
Murph held the man’s gaze steadily.
A floorboard creaked on the second floor and Simmons shot a quick glance up the stairs to the landing. “Sounds like we might have some company,” he said. “Back on your feet. We’re going on a little hunting trip.”
Murph stood up and took a step toward Simmons, who kept the Detonics aimed steadily at his chest.
“Stop!” Sable called from the top of the stairs.
Simmons shifted his aim.
Murph threw his weight at the other man’s arm, driving it against the mantel of the fireplace. The pistol flew from Simmons’s hand, clattering onto the hearth.
Simmons was reaching for his other gun when a shot rang out from the upstairs landing. The bullet from Sable’s .22 ricocheted off the stone face of the hearth.
Simmons scrambled to his feet and dove for the basement door before Murph could get to him. Sable squeezed off a second shot that blew a chunk of wood from the door, where the man’s head had been seconds before.
“You’re alive!” Sable rushed down the stairs.
“Hurry, cut this.” He turned his back to her to show her the zip tie. “Where are the others?”
She reached into the front drawer of the coffee table and pulled out a pocket knife. She dealt with the tie and shoved the knife in her slacks.
“Where are the others?” he repeated more quietly, aware his attacker could be listening from below.
“Cave.”
No, no, no.
“What did he do to Craig?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I think I saw him move but Simmons thinks he’s dead. I didn’t want him to finish the job.”
Flexing his wrists, Murph listened at the basement door. Had Simmons gone on into the cave or was he waiting and listening?
“We’ve got to stop him,” Sable said.
Chapter 28
Sable could have kicked herself for sending the others into the cave. At the time it had seemed the obvious choice. She gently touched the side of Murph’s head where an ugly bruise already mottled the skin.
He winced, drew away, grabbed his gun. “That can wait. I think Simmons must have gone into the cave.”
“Which means I’ve put everyone in danger.”
“It means there’s a dangerous man trying to hurt us. You’re not the bad guy.”
“It would be nice to have more firepower,” Sable said. “There’s a shotgun in the same closet where I got this pistol.”
“Good idea. I’ll watch this door.”
Sable ran upstairs and grabbed the shotgun, a box of shells, and her medical bag, then joined Murph at the basement door. They slipped through the doorway and down the stairs.
No one ambushed them.
At the entrance to the cave, Sable pulled her flashlight out of her pocket but didn't turn it on. She touched Murph's arm. “We'll have to find our way in the dark. Hold onto me, I know the way by feel.”
“The pit?”
“I'll stay well away from that.”
As soon as they stepped into the black safety of the cave, Sable stopped. “Is that voices or dripping water?”
“Water,” Murph whispered in her ear. “Go on.”
They continued deeper into the darkness, feeling their way along the rough wet cave wall. They had reached the point where the path curved around a column of limestone when an angry voice reached them. Simmons.
Sable halted and touched Murph’s arm.
“What are you going to do to me?” It was Bryce.
Sable stifled a gasp. No! Simmons was using a child as bait! How could this have happened?
“You’ll be a nice trap for our friends,” Simmons said.
Sable squeezed Murph's arm, urging him behind a familiar outcropping of rock. As he joined her she saw the dim glow of a covered flashlight as the hostage walked ahead of his captor.
She squeezed Murph's arm again. Simmons had the barrel of his pistol flush against Bryce's right temple. One move could kill the boy.
They could do nothing but watch as darkness descended again and the footsteps diminished.
“We should follow them,” Sable said.
“Simmons isn’t taking any chances,” Murph said. “He didn’t shoot Dillon when I shut him in the kitchen, he won’t shoot Bryce.”
“We can’t take a chance with that boy.”
“We go barging through that basement door and Simmons will use his human bait to get exactly what he wants, and Bryce will be in more danger if we follow.”
“But he won’t expect us to come at him from the cave.”
“Of course he will,” Murph said. “Especially once he discovers we’re not in the house. I’m more worried about Craig right now. He moved his arm. He’s wounded but alive and he’s bound to be hypothermic. We’ve got to get to him. What about that sinkhole Craig found?”
Sable nodded in the darkness. “You read my mind. I left the window cracked in the sewing room in case we were able to get outside. Once Simmons searches the house, he shouldn’t expect anyone to be upstairs. He’ll think we’re trapped down here. If one of us can get out the sinkhole—”
“I manage better on the ice than you do.”
She nudged him deeper into the cave. “We need to find that sinkhole. First we’ll make sure the others are well hidden so Simmons can’t return and add to his collection.”
* * *
Murph was relieved when Sable deemed them to be far enough away from the house to risk using her flashlight.
They found Audrey and Perry in ten minutes.
“S-Sable?” It was Audrey’s quavering voice that came from behind a ledge at the far end of the small cavern of marbled rust formations. The older woman stepped out from behind the ledge, a coil of rope over her shoulder. Perry followed, mud streaking his face, a rip in the right knee of his slacks.
“Oh Sable, honey,” Audrey said, “when you didn’t show up we thought that man had you for sure.”
“He has Bryce,” Sable said.
“No!” Perry exclaimed. “He said he’d be very careful. He wanted to go back to the basement and listen through the door, see if you were safe.”
“We tried to stop him,” Audrey said, “but he was gung ho to save you. How do we get Bryce out of that murderer’s hands? I think the best chance we have is for one of us to go up first and find a way to distract him. That will give the others time to come in and overpower him. I could go.”
“Simmons will lose his advantage if anything happens to Bryce,” Sable said. “As long as we all stay out of his clutches, Bryce will be safe.”
“We have a plan,” Murph said, “but it involves keeping the two of you hidden.”
“Besides, Simmons has a gun.” Perry glanced at the shotgun Murph had slung over his shoulder. “Are you sure that thing even works?”
“Grandpa kept his things in good repair,” Sable said.
Perry reached behind a stalagmite and pulled out a small shovel. “We hid this back here.”
“Good,” Sable said. “We need it. Come with us.”
“Sable, I've already volunteered to go for help if we can get out of here,” Perry told her as he and Audrey fell into line behind Sable and Murph. “Don't try to talk me out of it.”
“I wouldn't dream of it.” She hesitated. “We’ll hide you well, but do you want this shotgun?”
“I wouldn’t even know how to use it,” Perry said.
“How about my .22?” Sable asked, holding out her pistol.
“I can do that.” Audrey reached for it.
A few minutes later, breathing heavily, Perry tugged at the collar of his jacket. “It's hot down here.”
“That's because you're wearing that heavy jacket,” Audrey said. “You thought it would be cold down here, dummy.”
“No, I thought it would be cold if we get outside, and who knows when we'll end up outside? That hard ice sure sounds good to me now. I never thought I'd say that.”
Sable stopped in the breakdown cavern, from which two rough passages led. “This is the passage that leads to the sinkhole.” She aimed her light along the crawl space littered with smooth rocks from a dry streambed. “This is where we’ll come back to get you two. There are plenty of boulders great for hiding. You might need to get out of here by yourselves.”
“Meaning what?” Audrey demanded.
“We need witnesses if something happens,” Sable adjusted the rope over Murph’s shoulders. “Tell the local police what happened here and have them check out Otis Boswell, of Boswell Mining. I’m sure that's who Simmons works for. The evidence is in the attic safe.”
“Do you only have one flashlight between the two of you?” Murph asked.
“Two, but this is the best one.” Perry held his light up. “We won't use the other one unless we have to.”
“Good idea. Don't come out until one of us comes back for you…or unless…”
Audrey squeezed Murph’s arm. “Take care of her.”
“I will.”
Murph followed Sable silently for several minutes, crawling through tight spots, climbing over ledges, scrambling through a stream. He was grateful for her knowledge of this place and for her courage.
“I forgot to thank you earlier.” He kept his voice low, his gaze trained into the darkness ahead of them.
“For what?”
“For busting me loose when Simmons had the drop on me.”
“I did not bust you lose, I merely distracted him.”
“If you hadn’t been there I don’t know what would’ve happened.”
“The same could be said of you.”
“There’s one thing, though,” Murph said.
“What’s that?”
“In case it ever comes up again, you never warn a killer before you shoot. Just shoot.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’ll try to remember that,” she said dryly, shining her light back along the way they had come. “You do realize, don’t you, that Simmons might already be back down here?”
Murph nodded. “He’ll know by now that we’re not in the house.”
“But if I have to be trapped in a cave with a killer on the loose,” she murmured quietly, “I’m glad it’s with you.”
“Why?”
“You make a bigger target.”
Chapter 29
Sable heard a splash of water and she grabbed Murph's arm, switching off her light. “Listen.”
They stood in absolute darkness and waited. All she heard were the sounds of their own breathing and the echo of dripping water.
“What was it?” Murph asked.
She turned her light on. “Probably nothing. Keep your eyes open for what could be behind us.”
They soon found themselves walking through drifts of fog that thickened rapidly, reflecting her light back at her. The swirls of mist ebbed and swayed in ghostly patterns, hiding formations that would suddenly emerge to block their path.
They made their way another fifty yards along the passage, then Murph reached for her light and switched it off.
“Did you hear something?” Sable whispered.
“Water. Listen.”
This time the sound of water was louder, more definite.
“That's more than a few drips of seepage.” Sable felt a stirring of excitement. “That's a steady stream. Have we found the sinkhole?”
“I think so.”
She switched the light back on and they followed the sound of water a few more yards until they came to the thickest mist and felt the movement of icy air on their faces.
“Looks like the place Craig described,” Sable said.
“We’ll have to climb.” Murph pulled out his own light and aimed it all around them, then stepped over to the cave wall and touched it. “Wet. I’ll climb to the top and you hoist the medical bag up to me.”
With the shotgun in its sling over his left shoulder and the Detonics pistol tucked back in its holster he handed Sable his flashlight and climbed the ten-foot-high bank.
Sable waited until he reached the top and tossed him the medical bag and flashlight, and then she followed. They didn’t need the shovel, after all. It looked as if Craig had knocked some rocks out of the way.
Murph straightened and stood, placed the shotgun beside him on the ledge, and reached down to help Sable up the final few feet to the ledge.
He indicated the sinkhole above them, which opened into the night sky with a rough diameter of perhaps two feet. From that opening dangled several long roots from a bush or a small tree.
“If these roots are strong enough,” Murph said, “I can use them to pull myself up, then drop the rope down to you.”
“Or you could lift me up and I could tie the rope around the tree or bush that belongs to those roots.”
“I'm going first. We don’t know where this comes out.”
“So what’s your point?” Sable asked.
He looked back down at her. “My point is it could be dangerous, I’m bigger than you, so I say who goes.” Murph stepped onto the clay embankment. “Hold your light for me and I'll stick mine in my pocket.”
Now was not the time to turn militant. She did as he asked. “Please hurry.”
“I’ll leave the gun and the bag down here. You can hand them up to me before you come up,” Murph said.
“I’ll carry the shotgun, Murph.”
He reached up for one of the thick roots near the sinkhole, jerked on them, then heaved himself up, arm muscles bulging as he reached for another root closer to the hole. The root snapped and he hit the ground with a grunt.
“I liked my plan better,” Sable said. “Give me the rope and give me a boost.”
Murph readjusted the rope over his shoulder and once more stepped up the slanted clay wall.
This time the roots held. He reached the opening and pulled himself up with a scattering of dirt and pebbles.
A falling rock missed Sable's head by inches and hit the cave floor with an echoing clatter. She turned a fearful gaze back down along the passage. Nothing.
Murph peered back down through the sinkhole. “This comes out by the creek, just as I’d hoped. A couple more feet and the creek would have been in the cave. The bank is steep and slick.”
“So you know where you are?”
“I see a corner of the house from here.”
She tossed the medical bag up to him. “Tie the rope and get to Craig. I’ll sling the gun over my shoulder.”
He hesitated and she could see with the glow of her flashlight that he had major misgivings.
“I’m coming, okay? Hurry.”
Murph withdrew from the mouth of the sinkhole. Seconds later the rope unfurled b
eside Sable.
When she reached for it, the beam of her flashlight reflected against a black vein of some kind of deposit in the cave wall a few feet past the sinkhole.
She reached for the shotgun, grasped the rope, then hesitated. With a quick sweep of her light, she found the vein once more. This was no time to inspect further. She had to catch up with Murph.
She turned off her light and stuck it in her back pocket, looped the shotgun sling over her shoulder, then grasped the rope up high and began to climb.
She was halfway to the sinkhole when a light flashed through the mist from the passage below.
She heard breathing, the scattering of loose pebbles, the scuff of shoe leather against hard clay. She held tight, afraid to breathe as the coarse rope bit into her hands and her grip slid. She reached for a better hold. A shower of dirt and pebbles shifted noisily across the floor below her.
The light below lit up the mist once again.
She dropped to the cave floor and swung the shotgun from her shoulder, disengaging the safety.
The footsteps returned. The light grew brighter.
She scooted behind a stalagmite as the footsteps increased in tempo. She pressed against the wet stalagmite.
The footsteps stopped. Sable remembered the rope hanging down through the mist. The beam from a flashlight stopped on it and then slowly circled the upper cavern.
She held her breath. If she froze in position she might be shielded by the fog.
She waited as the steps drew nearer. Light penetrated the white mist with an eerie glow, once more illuminating the vein. Sable got a close look at it. It appeared to be a black wire twisting through the rock around it.
Silver turns black when exposed to air…
The footsteps drew closer. She tightened her grip on the shotgun, raised it.
For a moment she was hidden by the glare of the mist. But Simmons stepped around the stalagmite.
He was barely three feet from the barrel of the shotgun. His eyes widened. She pressed her finger against the trigger.
Chapter 30
Hidden Motive Page 19
