Then he heard Sylvie making her way down. Oh, no. He wasn’t prepared for that yet.
“Wait up,” he said into the laundry chute.
Will climbed down, removed the boxes from beneath the chute and found the sturdiest-looking old chair. He stood on that to catch Sylvie. “Okay, careful coming down.”
Sylvie slid down the chute rather than crawling out, which surprised him. She would land hard. Then she appeared, popping out, and Will caught her in his arms, surprising them both.
“Will!” she gasped his name.
And he laughed.
The chair collapsed beneath them.
* * *
Will kept his balance and her in his arms. “Are you okay?” she asked.
The chair lay splintered on the floor. He was entirely too close, the masculine scent of him wrapping around her and making her dizzy. Making her feel things she didn’t want to feel.
“Yeah, but I think we might have woken the dead.”
“We don’t need to worry about them. It’s the living we should worry about. The guard, if there is one, outside the door.”
“Which brings me to a question I should have asked before we made this leap of faith down the laundry chute,” Will replied.
Sylvie studied the mess in the basement. What looked like old IKEA furniture was piled high, along with the wooden chair Will had just broken. Her spirits sank. She couldn’t imagine someone actually storing her mother’s things in the basement. “So what’s your question?”
“You climbed down here as a child. How did you get out? Because there’s no way we are climbing back up.”
“Oops. I hadn’t thought of that.” At Will’s grimace she laughed. “We go out the door. It’s locked from the outside to keep people from getting in. But it can be unlocked from the inside to prevent someone from accidentally being locked down here.”
Sheer relief registered on Will’s face, along with a day’s worth of stubble. His beard would grow thick and fast, by the looks of it, if he didn’t shave every day. Why was she thinking about that? She pulled her gaze from Will’s features in the dim lighting and glanced around the basement. Where to start?
“I remember it being much brighter down here when I used to play.” Now it was dark and gloomy. Cobwebs hung in every possible place. Where were the spiders that had left all these? Still alive and well? Her skin crawled. “There’s another light somewhere. You can be a hero now, Will, and find it. Knock down some of those webs, too.”
Something unseen skittered away in the corner. Sylvie froze. Locked gazes with Will. Humor shimmered in his warm eyes, but understanding gleamed there also. “I don’t like cold, dark spaces with spiderwebs, either, especially when other vermin can be heard vying for front-row seats.”
“Very funny.” She had no plans to entertain the rats.
“Why do you think I love to fly? You never see a web in the sky. Or spiders, for that matter.”
“No cobwebs in the water when I go diving.” But the thought reminded her of her mother’s plane and what it might look like with the passing years if no one discovered it. They had to get busy.
Sylvie had never been afraid of the dark, but she couldn’t shake the images of creepy creatures with any number of legs lurking in the shadowed corners. To his credit, Will grabbed a broom and scraped a few silken, dusty webs down. Since there was a small lamp on in the corner, Sylvie wondered who had been down here and why hadn’t they disturbed the webs. The lamp might mean that someone had, in fact, brought her mother’s things down.
Together they searched the basement, which seemed to go on forever. Someone needed to take this old rubbish to the Dumpster, and the decent furniture to the Salvation Army. Finally, she found some newer-looking plastic bins stacked among old cardboard boxes stained with rat droppings.
Her skin crawled again, and she sneezed. If Ashley had actually put all her mother’s things down here... Sylvie would be furious. Sylvie switched on an overhead light and started looking at the bins, hoping they were labeled. Will searched on the fringe with a flashlight he’d found.
The way dirt and dust had been disturbed, someone else had been here recently doing something more than turning on a lamp.
“I found something,” Will said.
Sylvie left the bin she was examining and made her way to him, bumping into the corner of an old desk. “What’d you find?”
He held up an old pocketknife.
The breath whooshed from her. “Can you be serious and help me?”
“You never know when one of these is going to come in handy. I lost the one I carried.”
The knob jiggled; keys jingled.
Sylvie stared at Will. Panic gripped her stomach. “What do we do?”
“Just tell them what we’re doing?”
“We can’t do that. You heard Marguerite. There are strangers in the house. We can’t trust them.” Sylvie grabbed Will’s hand and dragged him deeper, behind stacks of boxes. She yanked the chain, switching off the light in that part of the basement. The only light on now was the lamp near the door that had been on when they’d arrived. Backed into a dark corner, something tickled in her hair and she pushed down the scream threatening to erupt. Shoving away the webs she’d backed into and the possible spider that went with them, her skin crawled at the thought of the little creepers.
She’d give anything if she could run out of the basement screaming and shaking her hair free of creeping things. Sylvie dragged in the breaths before it was too late. In, out. In, out.
I can do this.
Spiders are just tiny animals. They don’t want to hurt me.
Will wrapped his arm around her and leaned in close. His warm breath fanned her hair. What? The webs didn’t bother him? Apparently not. She let his presence calm her nerves. Together they waited and watched. The door opened and heavy footsteps clomped around while larger-than-life shadows fell across the walls from the dim light of the lamp. The beam from a flashlight danced along the rafters and ceiling.
The laundry chute door hung open.
Sylvie almost gasped.
Would the man notice? Become suspicious?
Will was right. This was just plain stupid to hide like children who’d been caught. They should face this man head-on and get their answers. Sylvie would rather face him than stay in the spiderwebs. She started to move from Will’s grasp, but he held her in place. She glanced at him. He pressed a finger against his lips and motioned for her to look through a space between the boxes.
From there, she could see the man—he was the one who’d pretended to be a nurse at the hospital in order to kill her. She would never forget his dark, sinister eyes. It was Diverman.
FIFTEEN
Will stiffened when Sylvie sucked in a breath. That had been much too loud. He held his breath. Stood perfectly still.
Had the man heard?
Seconds ticked by.
Carefully, Will peeked through the boxes again. The man stood stock-still. Listening. He’d heard something, all right. Will wished the rodents would make their presence known. Maybe that would distract the man.
Will wanted to rush from where they were hiding and tackle the man while he had the element of surprise. Secure him and call the police. Get the answers they needed. But he spotted the man’s weapon tucked in his pants and he didn’t want to put Sylvie at more risk than she already was. She’d been shot once before, and Will couldn’t let that happen again.
But if Diverman decided to search, the two of them would be discovered. Jumping the man might be his only choice. He just wasn’t sure how to achieve that. Will would have to wait until the man drew closer and they could push the stacks of boxes over on him. Gain the upper hand. Will couldn’t risk communicating his plans to Sylvie and hoped she understood. From where he stood, he scanned the boxes, looking for the best angle. Wishing the guy wo
uld come closer and yet hoping he would simply leave.
Shining the flashlight in the corners, the man crept forward, frowning at the cobwebs, too. Will swallowed, sent up a silent prayer and prepared to storm the boxes, toppling them over.
Then someone called the man from the doorway. Was it Marguerite? She’d just saved them. The man switched off the lights, closed the door behind him, leaving them in utter darkness. Will and Sylvie expelled a collective breath.
“That was too close,” she whispered.
“I was about to tackle him.” His pulse still sky high from the close encounter, Will reached for Sylvie and pulled her to him. Reflex. Pure reflex.
Her heart pounded against the crush of his chest, and he held her until she calmed. Until they both did. “Diverman is here, and probably Rifleman, too. Now we know who the strangers are and that this is the worst-case scenario. We have to leave.”
There could be no doubt her stepfather was involved in the attacks against them. Will couldn’t imagine what that knowledge, that confirmation, did to Sylvie, who’d been hoping to prove otherwise. But what way the man was involved, Will couldn’t be sure. He still couldn’t fathom the man who’d been so concerned for his stepdaughter would want her dead. Send men to kill her. Was Diverman the bodyguard that he’d called?
“But I haven’t gone through the boxes yet. I’m not leaving until I find something I can use to...” Her voice shook as she trailed off.
Neither of them wanted to say the words. Too harsh. Too cruel.
Sylvie felt around and found the chain and yanked the light on.
“I don’t think your stepfather would have left anything of value in the boxes.”
“But why did Diverman come down here, then? Maybe...maybe now that my stepfather knows I want to look in the boxes, he must have sent this man to remove them.”
Will gripped her shoulders. “The man is here at this house to kill you, Sylvie. He could be back down here at any moment, as soon as he learns you are not in your room.”
And Will had let her come here, into the lion’s den. Like he could have stopped her.
“Don’t you see?” he added, hoping she’d understand the urgency. “There’s no time to search.”
“You’re right. Now that Diverman is here, we know something we hadn’t known for certain before. But I don’t get it. Why hasn’t he already tried to kill me? He has to know I’m here.”
“Maybe he planned his attack for tonight when you’d be sleeping. Could be he was in your room looking for you already.”
Sylvie pressed her hand to her forehead. “Of course. That’s it. My death needs to look like an accident, and needs to happen far away from the mansion. Killing me here would raise too many questions and a possible investigation that my stepfather doesn’t need. But if I had died in a diving accident like I was supposed to, then that would have been the end of it. Even in the hospital, you said he tried to inject me with something first. Using his gun was his last resort.”
“Come on, then. Let’s get out of here.” Will grabbed her hand and headed to the door.
“If I had left well enough alone, just let my mother’s death and plane rest at the bottom of that channel, then this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t be in danger, either.” She sighed. “We need to call the police.”
“I don’t plan on hanging around long enough to make that call until we’re at a safe distance.”
“Agreed. Let’s turn this light off so they won’t know we’ve been down here. Maybe I’ll get another chance to look sometime later.”
Sylvie yanked the chain, throwing them back into complete darkness.
“I think I remember the layout of the basement,” he said.
“Let me lead.” Sylvie tugged him to follow. “I could find my way out of here in a blindfold.”
Following Sylvie, he only stumbled once as they made their way to the door. When they got there, Will pressed his hand over Sylvie’s on the dead bolt. “What if he’s on the other side of the door, sitting in the chair we found?”
“He didn’t strike me as the sort of guy to sit and guard a basement.”
Nevertheless, Will felt along the wall for something hard—a brick. Just in case the small pocketknife wasn’t enough.
“Ready?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She gently turned the dead bolt. They both stood in silence. Waiting and listening to any reaction on the other side. Will stepped in front of Sylvie and opened the door, prepared to use the brick, but no one was there.
“Come on.” He led the way as they hurried up the steps with as much stealth as possible until they made it to the wrought-iron spiral staircase. This house was a veritable maze. When they made it to the main floor, Will headed for the front door, but Sylvie held him back.
“Wait,” she whispered. “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“I need my purse, my wallet, bank card, and don’t forget the keys from your room. We aren’t going anywhere without those.”
“Hurry, then.” Will kept close to Sylvie as they crept up another set of steps, and felt like the eyes from the old Masters family portraits were watching. He held tight to the brick. What he wouldn’t give to have a real weapon.
Together they walked by the room Will would have slept in if they were staying. He opened the door and flipped on the lights, prepared to face off with Diverman. He snatched his keys from the dresser and the small pack he’d brought and together they headed to Sylvie’s room.
Reaching for the door she paused and looked at Will, caution in her gaze. Would Diverman be inside, waiting for her? If so, Will would be there to stop him this time, just as he had twice before. He urged her out of the way and shoved through the door, prepared to protect her.
Cautiously, they entered the room. When it appeared empty, Sylvie slipped by Will and went for the bed to grab her purse.
A woman stood at the window, with her back to them.
* * *
Ashley turned from the window.
“What are you doing here?” Sylvie glanced at Will. They had believed the room empty. “I thought you left with Damon.”
Come to think of it, she hadn’t actually seen Ashley leave. Should Sylvie tell Ashley about Diverman? None of them were safe here. But something in the subtle shake of Will’s head let her know he was advocating caution. They didn’t know whom they could trust.
Not yet.
Ashley rushed to Sylvie’s side, her smile tenuous. “I was supposed to go. But we both agreed that I should stay and make sure you’re okay until the bodyguard arrives. And when I found your room empty I was more than worried. Where have you been?”
Her gaze leaped from Sylvie to Will as she rubbed her forefinger over the edge of an envelope she held.
“Just showing Will around the house. What’s going on, Ashley?” Sylvie eyed the envelope.
Ashley hesitated, studying Will.
“It’s okay. You can talk in front of him.”
The woman nodded. “The company is in trouble, or else Damon...your stepfather would have stayed here with you himself. But this gave me the opportunity I needed to speak with you.”
Sylvie released a sigh. “Oh, good. I had wanted to talk to you, too. But you start—what did you want to tell me?”
“Since we were friends, your stepfather had me box your mother’s things away a few weeks ago. I was here working with him, along with the others, on a specific project for a weekend work retreat, if you can imagine that. He was too heartbroken to face it. You can blame me, if you want. I’m the one who persuaded him to let me. I worked on the bedroom first and those things are in boxes in the basement. I hadn’t started on her office until last week, and that’s when I found this letter addressed to you.”
Sylvie’s heart jumped. “A letter?” Why not an email? Or a pho
ne call? But then her mother had called her before she left and given her a vague warning.
Ashley handed the envelope over. “I’m sorry I hadn’t gotten it to you sooner. It has a stamp. Obviously, your mother intended to mail it. Maybe she changed her mind. I probably should have mailed it as soon as I found it, but given the circumstances I thought I should deliver it personally. And here you are.”
Sylvie held the envelope, wanting to tear into it. “And you haven’t opened it?”
“No. Of course not. But Sylvie, I know that she was...”
“What? Tell me.”
“Scared.” Ashley moved back to the window and stood against the wall, looking out as though she feared someone watched them.
“Scared of what or who? Did you tell the police?” Will asked.
“Yes. I told a detective that she was scared. Left in a hurry and then died in a plane crash.”
Sylvie understood the frustration in Ashley’s voice and found a measure of reassurance that she and Will weren’t alone in their suspicions that there was something sinister about her mother’s death. But Sylvie also knew that, in the end, the authorities did not seem to suspect foul play. They were treating the attack on Sylvie as an unrelated incident. Without a plane or bodies, nothing was being done to satisfy Sylvie regarding her and Will’s mothers’ deaths.
She ripped open the envelope and reached for the letter inside.
“I’m just going to wait out here in the hall,” Ashley said.
“There’s no need. You can stay.”
“No, I think you should have privacy. I’ll be right out here. Who knows, maybe that bodyguard will arrive.”
She glanced at Will as she moved to the door.
“I’m staying,” he said.
Nodding, she slipped outside into the hall. Will rushed to Sylvie, who turned her back to him. She wanted to read the letter alone.
Alaskan Mountain Pursuit Page 14
