by Brenna Lyons
“How’s it going?” Joe asked.
“Great. I got the clip in place a few minutes before your call. Since then, it’s been non-stop. So far, he’s called Cole, a guy named Cory, and some computer database guy named Peters. He’s waiting for a couple of calls. Want in on it? I’ve got a spare.”
Joe shook his head. “Hook Eric in. I may have to move quickly.” Give me a place, Kyla, and I’ll be on my way.
Jason handed the small receiver to Eric, and he hooked it onto his ear.
Eric glanced around. “Where’s Liz and the other truck?”
Jason dug in his pockets. “Weapons duty. I picked up the electronics, and she dropped me off. By the way,” he handed each of them a radio, “eighty-one.”
“What if we have to switch?” Eric asked him.
Jason smiled. “Squares descending.”
“Good system.”
Joe broke in. “You didn’t mention what we were up to, right?”
“No one there to tell. We used the key to get in, got what we needed, and left,” Jason responded.
“No one? Not even Howie?”
Eric sighed. “Joe, we weren’t supposed to be there for fifteen more hours. It’s not a surprise.”
Jason looked at them in shock. “Hours? Something we didn’t know about?”
Joe shrugged. “We had a spy. We would have gotten ahold of you and Liz tomorrow or the next day and told you. Just not Beatrice Arnold over here. Did you look around at site B? The site A stuff is already there. We never told any of you about site B until tonight for a reason.”
Jason nodded. “I noticed there was an awful lot of stuff piled around. I guess that explains it. Anyway, I tacked a beacon onto his truck and bugged it. Let’s hope he doesn’t take another vehicle.”
Joe startled. “You didn’t take any unnecessary chances, did you?”
Jason grinned and held up his hands with surgical gloves on. “No chances at all, boss.”
Eric looked around. “It’s going to be light soon. We need cover. What’s the range on these headsets?”
“A couple of miles. I boosted them a little. We could listen back at the safe house, but we should leave someone here as our eyes and ears.”
“But where?” Joe asked. He scanned the line of houses dubiously.
Stacie spoke up. “The house just past his is empty.”
Eric swung around to face her. “Why would you tell us that? It’s got to be a trick.”
Joe heard the litany in his head: trust, faith, love, patience, and a new one, hope. He met Eric’s gaze. “I don’t think so. Stacie and I will stay here. Eric, you’re my ride and my way into that house. Jason, you and Liz are on call back at the safe house.”
Stacie glanced at him. “Me? Why me? Aren’t you afraid I’ll try to warn him now that I’ve given him all the information he needs to find Kyla?”
Joe leveled a calm expression at her. “No, I’m not. For one thing, I already know how you feel about me breaking you in two. For another, I need you to ID your buddies as they show up. And finally, let’s just say I have inside information on this one.”
“What do you mean when you say you already know how I feel about you breaking me in two?” Stacie asked.
Joe laughed. “Oh, come on. Kyla does read minds, after all. How do you think I knew who to grab when I found her missing?”
She stared at him in disbelief. “How long? How long did you all know and act like you didn’t? How long did you let me walk around thinking I was safe?” Stacie looked from one man to the next around the truck.
Jason spoke up. “Hey, don’t look at me. They didn’t tell me anything until last night.”
Joe favored her with the same cool expression. “A few days. We’ve known all about your little plan for a few days. That was why this took us by surprise. We thought we had until Monday or Tuesday.”
“And all this time, I was sitting here wondering who your spy was.”
“Thanks to Kyla, our spy was you.”
* * *
Joe watched the movement next door, and Eric kept him up on the phone calls. Simmons had located Bishop Johnson and had someone watching him, but Harris was nowhere to be found. Sympathizers on the police force were looking for his car on the sly. The last thing Cole wanted was the police finding Kyla before he did.
Joe paced in front of the blinds, which were closed save a slit he was using to spy next door.
“Aren’t you afraid he’s going to see you?” Stacie asked.
“No, it’s dark in here and light out there. As long as the blinds are closed like this, we’re invisible.”
A man walked up to the door and rang the bell.
“Who is that?” Joe asked.
Stacie peered down at the blonde man below. “I’m not sure. I’ve seen him before, but I don’t really know him.”
Joe shot her an irritated glance.
“You can’t expect me to know everyone.”
The door opened and a tall, broad-shouldered man with a dark crew cut shook hands with the man on the porch.
“Simmons?” Joe asked as they disappeared inside.
“Yes.”
Joe shot her an appraising glance. “Why did you call him Tim on the phone?”
“So he’d know I had important news that had to go up the line.”
He stared at her. “And if you had called him Simmons instead?”
Stacie nodded. “I would have blown this little scam out of the water. He would have known something was wrong and that I couldn’t tell him what.”
“And I never would have known it.” Joe felt sick and relieved at the same time.
“That was the plan.”
“But you didn’t do it? Why?”
“It would have slowed him down, and time is already an issue.” Stacie looked away.
Joe wasn’t sure what to make of her. It could still be a lie, but he didn’t think so. “Thank you,” he told her.
“Don’t thank me yet. This can still fail, you know.”
* * *
Pains shot through Kyla’s shoulders with every movement. She tried again to work her hands out of the ropes. Luckily, she was double jointed enough that she should be able to slide them over her thumb if she could get them that far. Kyla was almost there. Her wrists and hands were sporting a set of terrible rope burns, but the constant rubbing and wiggling had gotten several loops to just above the base of her thumb. Kyla sighed. Another half-hour and she might actually be free. Why did they make it look so easy in the movies?
She ground her teeth against the burning pain in her wrists and listened for movement. A man checked on her every so often. He was fooled when Kyla pretended to still be out. That wouldn’t work forever, though. At the very least, Harris would show up eventually. With more questions and little patience, she was sure.
Kyla glanced around again. The light never changed in here. She had no idea what time it was, but she had to make this work soon or not at all.
The ropes slid off her hands. Kyla pulled her arms around to the front and let her back rest against the back of the couch. A dull ache raced up her spine. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to get circulation going again and to try to relieve some of the stiffness in her fingers before she went to work on the ropes on her ankles. Her fingers were still slightly unresponsive while Kyla was doing that, but she didn’t have time to waste.
Kyla flipped onto the wet floor and started stretching the kinks out of her hip and legs. She peered around the edge of the couch. No one was in sight.
She crawled to the wide doorway and looked down the tunnel hallway. Nothing was evident in either direction.
Kyla stood and wiped the slime from her hands onto her jeans with displeasure. She would have to be very careful. The floor was covered in a mixture of the same mud and slime that coated the walls in places.
She looked closer at the passageway. The light was coming from the left. The right was almost pitch black. Kyla sighed inwardly and headed le
ft. Light meant people she didn’t really want to run into, but it also meant she wasn’t stumbling around in the dark.
She stopped at the corner and peeked around. There was a man sitting in a chair at the next intersection. Kyla looked the other direction. No, she couldn’t go without light. There had to be another way.
Kyla looked at the small light above her head. She reached up and lifted gently, smiling in triumph. It was one of the battery operated tap-lights, hung on a nail. She had to stand on tiptoe to get it down, but she got it without a sound. Kyla moved back the way she’d come, then she took a deep breath and stepped around the next corner. This didn’t look so bad.
She walked to the next intersection. It was a T. It wasn’t a straight shot. It was a maze. Kyla glanced back over her shoulder. A maze or a madman?
The maze won. Okay, left is toward them. She turned right. At every turn, she kept her bearings and moved steadily away from them.
Some of the tunnels were dry and dirty, but many were so wet and crooked that Kyla worried about their stability. If there was an underground stream running past and they were as old as they seemed, they could collapse. She tried to keep that fear at bay.
Then, she discovered another fear. At some corners, Kyla could only turn towards them. Each time, she steeled her nerves and made the turn, hoping Harris wasn’t another turn away.
Kyla lost track of time. It seemed like hours, but she was sure it was probably only a matter of minutes. Kyla was sore and tired, and she needed to rest. She sat down against one of the damp walls. She had hoped to contact Joe with a location, not to tell him she had gotten hopelessly lost in this labyrinth of tunnels. She sighed deeply and reached out to him.
* * *
Joe listened to Jason’s update. There was still no movement on the bishop. Damn. Simmons had called Cole to report in. Jason laughed as he told Joe about Cole’s reaction to the lack of progress, but Joe grimaced. He could understand the frustration.
Joe cracked a smile at the thought of the high and mighty Cole throwing a fit, though. “Aw. Poor baby.”
“Yeah, I know. By the way, did you see anyone else show up?”
“Yeah, a big guy. He got here a little over an hour ago. Why?”
“His name is Paul Billings. Just keeping you up on the players.”
“Thanks. I’m out.” Joe put the radio on the floor and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. Then, he ran his hand over the stubble of his beard and wished for a hot shower.
Kyla connected. “Joe?”
“How are you?” he asked.
“Lost, actually.”
“What?” Joe tried not to let the panic cross with the words, but he knew he failed.
“Relax. I got out of the ropes, and I’m trying to find my way out of this labyrinth.”
“What about Gram?”
“There’s a guard between me and their way out—and Gram.”
“You’re wandering around down there?” She needed a protector.
“I figure it this way. What’s the point of a tunnel that only has one way out?”
“I guess so. Be careful.”
“I am. I hope this wasn’t a big mistake.”
“Well, at least you bought us more time.”
“How?”
“They can’t do whatever they plan to as long as they can’t find you.”
“I guess that much is true.”
Joe looked at Stacie and realized she was watching him curiously. He picked up his radio and contacted the others. “I think we have a temporary stall guys. Our lady is on the move.”
Eric replied. “Free and clear?”
“Negative. This is a stall. It is not a reprieve. Keep your fingers crossed. It’s a dangerous stall.”
He signed off and glanced at Stacie. She looked distinctly nervous. Joe offered her a wide smile and decided to let her worry for awhile.
Chapter Twenty-five
Six am—eight am
Harris was in a foul mood. This place was a wreck, and he’d just had the worst night’s sleep of his entire life. The beds in prison were more comfortable than that damn bed. No wonder nuns were so miserable.
He checked on the old woman and let her use the facilities before tying her back to the chair.
“I’m very hungry,” she informed him.
He sneered at her. “You’ll get something in a little while. I have to go collect your precious young lady first.”
She nodded and said nothing more.
Harris moved down the stairs to the doorway in the basement off the kitchen. His back ached, and he resigned himself to the fact that sixty was far too old to be doing this. It was a young man’s game. What was he still doing mixed up in this? But of course, he knew the answer to that one. Jessup.
He hated these tunnels. Harris knew they’d served a purpose in the early days of the convent. Originally, all of the buildings within the old fence had been connected by the confusing maze of tunnels. The sisters could move from building to building in bad weather without going outside.
From their experiences as an order in Ireland, they believed in a safe place to hide for themselves or whomever they were protecting. The tunnels had never been used for that purpose here. They had been utilized as storage space for old furnishings and portraits, most donated by the same devout robber barons that had built the convent and made the city bloom.
Unfortunately, the tunnels had degraded under the stresses of the rolling hills and underground streams. The damp atmosphere had destroyed almost everything that had been stored down there years ago.
Portions of the tunnels had been destroyed as well. In the sixties, some of the better portions had been bricked off from the worse, lighted and cemented over to connect three of the converted buildings on the grounds.
The entire hill had sprung up as a college for young ladies in the twenties. The revamped tunnel connected the buildings that housed the religion, philosophy, and language departments, the math and computer science departments, and the old residents’ hall.
The old tunnels were never completely sealed off. Harris never understood why that was. The entrances in the Science Building and the English Building had been walled off in the fifties. The one in the library was covered by the new elevator shaft in the forties. But the old tunnels still connected the convent to the gym and the new residents’ hall, if the tunnels were still passable.
No one used them anymore. It was forbidden, even for the nuns. They were simply too dangerous. So why keep them unsealed? Maybe it was their sisterhood memory of needing a hiding place.
He caught sight of Blake. The younger man stood as Harris approached.
“Anything?” Harris asked.
Blake shook his head. “Not a peep. Did you hit her too hard or did you give her too much of that shot?” He smiled crookedly.
Harris fumed. It was definitely time to get out. The young pups were forgetting who he was. They were forgetting the proper respect.
Blake shrank back almost imperceptibly.
Okay, I still have a little edge. “Did you check on her?” he demanded letting his impatience leak into his tone.
Blake nodded. “Last time was about a half hour ago. She was just like we left her.”
* * *
Harris headed down the tunnel. Blake found it hard to match him, even though he was a mere four inches shorter than Harris was. Blake didn’t voice a complaint. It wasn’t smart to antagonize Harris when he was in this mood.
When the old man came to the corner, he stopped suddenly. “Where’s the light?”
“Burned out?” Blake prayed it was true.
Harris ran his hand up the wall. “No, it’s gone, and I’ll bet she is too.”
Blake looked at the crumbling tunnels and grimaced. “Out there? You’ve got to be kidding.”
Harris snatched the flashlight off Blake’s belt and snapped it on. He took the hallway in three long jumps and directed the beam of light over the back of the couch. His hand cam
e up with the empty ropes, and the look on his face as he turned to Blake sent a chill up the younger man’s spine.
Yeah, given the choice, I’d probably choose the crumbling tunnels too. Maybe the girl wasn’t so stupid after all.
Blake glanced at the dark tunnels. “You want me to follow her?” he asked, hoping for a negative.
“No. I want you to wake Cason and Timms. I want each of you on an exit, in case she comes out. I’m getting more batteries and going in there.” The old man sounded murderous.
Blake didn’t envy the girl when Harris caught her, and he was a little afraid of what Harris would do to him if he didn’t find her. “Do you want a radio?”
“Radios won’t work down here, you idiot,” Harris berated him.
Blake glanced at the dark tunnels and shivered at the thought of wandering around down there with no radio.
“What?” Harris snapped at him.
“I was just thinking of your balls of steel, boss,” Blake commented as smoothly as he could.
The old bastard smiled crookedly. “Hope you have balls of steel too. I’m leaving you up here so you can explain to the bishop how you lost her in the first place.”
If there had been more light, Harris could have seen all of the color drain from Blake’s face. As it was, Blake could see Harris smirk as he no-doubt imagined it.
* * *
Kyla rubbed her eyes and looked again, sure she was seeing a mirage of sorts. No, it was a door. She hoped fervently that Harris wasn’t on the other side waiting for her, then she cracked the door open and looked around. No one was in sight. Kyla turned off her light and stuffed it inside her shirt.
She crept out of the enclosure and surveyed her surroundings. Sunlight streamed from large dusty windows far overhead. One of the long walls was lined with bleachers that reached up to a few feet below the windows and looked down on the cavernous hole of the empty pool, which fell away just a few yards in front of her feet.
