"Jake. We found her. She's okay."
"What?" he asked, his eyes huge. "What? You found her?"
"Yes! Well, I didn't find her as such, but she turned up. Someone had hit her and locked her in the dub room, but she's okay." Well, she was. I wasn't sure what had happened to her when she was pulled down the stairs.
Relief swept Jake's face as he sat on his backside and buried his head in his hands. I listened as he cried and then laughed, finally moving to me and pulling me in tight for a hug.
"That's amazing news. I knew it had to be okay. I knew it."
"We still have to get out of here," I added, bursting his happiness bubble.
"We don't even know where here is."
"I think I do."
I'd figured out when I'd seen the photo of my twenty-first birthday. It was almost the same one I had found inside the old book of Westport. The one that was stuck in the pages telling me about the old house and the safe room the crazy mayor had installed.
"We're in a safe room." I quickly brought Jake up to speed with everything that had happened that night. "I'm sure Sam and Matt are looking for me by now." I left out the part about Faith and the stairs. I decided this wasn't a good time to bring it up with Jake. He'd only just stopped crying.
"Do you know where, exactly, the safe room is located?"
"No, but I'm guessing it's under the house and the entrance is somewhere in that room that was locked." It all made sense now. The pieces fell into place.
Jake nodded.
"You said you've tried to get out. What's stopping us?" Renewed energy surged through me.
"Two locked doors. At first, I thought there was only one, but when you were thrown in here, I heard a second door being unlocked. This door here," said Jake, moving to the metal door he'd been leaning against earlier. "And this one." He opened the door and showed me a second door. It was made of wood and looked solid. It was also locked. "There are no outside windows either."
"But we must be getting air from somewhere?"
"We are. We have some air vents. I think they're connected directly to outside as the air is cool coming in through them."
"You can't see out of them?"
"No. They're too small, and it's dark. Maybe if it was daylight we could."
"Where are they? Maybe we can make a lot of noise and get someone's attention. I'm positive Sam will be looking for me." I'm just not positive if he'd be out here looking for me.
"I tried that. Look, earlier this inside metal door was also locked. It was unlocked when you arrived."
"What do you mean?"
Jake moved to the doors to show me.
"This inside door is solid metal with a lock on both sides of the door. The outside door is timber, locked from the other side."
"Why? Wouldn't it make more sense to have the metal one on the outside?"
"I guess it gave the occupant time to quickly close the outside door as the inside one is bloody heavy, lock it and get some protection while you close and lock the inside door, making the whole room secure."
"What about ventilation? Didn't they think someone could gas them in here by putting something in the ventilation?"
"Well, if this room really was built in the 1920s, like you say it is, they probably weren't thinking of things like that," said Jake, shrugging.
I shrugged. It made sense, but it didn't help us get out.
"So this inside door was locked until I got here?"
"Yeah, I heard the outside door being opened, so I prepared to defend myself in here once this door was open. I heard the latch being thrown and waited."
"What did you prepare yourself with?" I asked, curious.
Jake blushed. "That doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does. I may need to use it. Who says whoever did this isn't coming back any second now?"
Jake looked at me and sighed. "I found a can of spray."
"What kind of spray?"
"Bug spray. I'd say whoever this all belongs to had a roach problem at one point."
I shivered, stood, and moved to look at the door Jake had his shoulder leaning against. "So, do you think we can get out of here?"
"I didn't until this metal door was unlocked, but now I'm wondering if we can ram this other door."
"It looks pretty solid," I commented.
"Yeah, it does, but the frame surrounding it doesn't."
Jake was right. The frame surrounding the door looked like it had dry rot.
"Probably the only time in my life I'm happy to see dry rot," I said, smiling.
We looked around the room for anything that might help us break a door down. Or at least away from its frame. The room contained a desk, a desk chair, and the armchair Stuart was lying in. Looking at him, I knew we had to get out of here as quickly as we could.
"Your shoulder looks nice and strong," I commented, giving Jake a look that hopefully conveyed I thought he looked like Mr. Universe. I'm not sure what he thought, but he took a step away from me.
"Ummm…" he said, eyeing the door suspiciously. To be honest, I probably had a better chance of knocking the door down, but I didn't think saying that would be a good morale booster.
"Well, do you have a better suggestion?" I asked.
The answer was obviously no, as he sighed and moved back into the room. "Stand back," he said, waving his arm at me.
I did as he asked and stood next to Stuart, my heart rate picking up slightly. I wasn't sure what I was more nervous about—getting caught before we got out or Jake failing and me having to have a go. "Hit the door near the frame with your shoulder," I said, encouragingly.
Jake took a deep breath and then ran at the door, his body slamming into it. I gulped as I heard the crack of the wood splitting as his body was ricocheted backward. He landed on the floor with a thud. Jake groaned as he sat himself up, rubbing his shoulder. "I think I've dislocated it," he moaned.
"Really?" My first thought was—You don't see Gibbs from NCIS rolling around on the floor in agony after breaking down the bad guy's door—but then I remembered he always kicks the door. Oops. Probably not a good time to mention that.
Instead, I moved to the door and tried to pull it open. It took a bit of force, but with the help of a whining Jake, we managed to pull it inwards, the rotten timber frame crumbling around it. We both gave a whoop of joy, overcome with emotion and gave each other a hug. Then we felt awkward as Jake hurriedly let go of me and stood back to look at the door and the dark passage beyond.
"Well," said Jake, gulping, "I say we leave Stuart here. I'm not completely sure he's okay to be moved without medical assistance, so I think we need to get help as quickly as possible and bring it back to him."
I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, okay." I promised Georgie we would find her dad and that all would be okay. I was damned well going to make sure that happened.
"I'll just check he's as comfortable as he can be, and then we'll go," continued Jake. "Stand guard on the door, and let me know if you hear anything."
I certainly wasn't going to enter the dark passage on my own, but memories of being locked in the dub room with Sam came rushing back, so I made sure I stood on the outside of the door. Not that any lock was going to keep that secure anymore. It needed a carpenter.
Jake carefully checked Stuart. The noise of the door frame splintering had woken him, and he murmured to us as Jake told him we were going for help and would be back as quickly as possible. I hated leaving him, but I knew this was the best option.
Switching my phone to flashlight, I checked my signal—still on zero, probably because we were underground—and the time, now three-thirty am. I shone the light into the passage. It was narrow, cold, and dark. It also had cockroaches. I couldn't see how long it was as my light didn't shine that far and there seemed to be no overhead bulb. Jake stepped up to me.
"Ready?" he asked.
The cockroaches were seriously creeping me out, but it was walk past them or stay here. "You bet."
I stood ba
ck and let Jake lead the way. Even though three people had been moved down that passage tonight, there still could be spiders hanging over my head. Cockroaches were bad. Spiders were worse. So, best to let Jake go first. Just in case.
With that, he moved ahead of me. I grabbed on to his belt and handed him my phone, allowing the light to lead the way.
The passage was narrow with cement walls, and I wondered how all three of us had been carried down here unconscious. Whoever was responsible was obviously very strong.
Thankfully, it wasn't very long before we reached some steps. Jake shone the light up to the top, and we saw another door. This one was much smaller, only looking like it was a meter or so high, but the hinges, the handle, and the lock all told us it was definitely a door.
My stomach clenched, and I hoped it wasn't locked from the other side.
"We don't know what's on the other side of that door," whispered Jake, turning his head toward me. "So be prepared for the worst."
I didn't like the sound of that, but I nodded and squeezed his arm reassuringly.
I heard his deep breath as he turned the light back to the steps and took the first step up.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I held my breath as Jake touched the handle on the door at the top, and I waited to see what would happen. I heard the creak as he pushed on it and gave a silent whoop of joy. Jake flicked off the flashlight and gently pushed the door open. Not all the way—just far enough for him to have a look out. Impatience made me irritable.
"What do you see?" I whispered, standing on tiptoe, putting my head over his shoulder and trying to get a look. To do that, I'd had to virtually lay over the top of him as he squatted on the top step.
"Nothing," he hissed back, obviously not impressed with the position of my head. He then leaned his weight forward, stealthily pushing the door a little bit further open as he did so. My weight had other ideas, though. I was unprepared as he moved and fell onto him. That caused him to overbalance on his feet, and we both fell forward, the little door swinging all the way open, with us being propelled into the room. I squealed as Jake broke my fall, stopping when my full body weight squashed him like a bug, his face smashed into the timber flooring.
I heard his curse as I prayed no one was sitting in the room waiting for us.
"Get off me," he hissed. I was pretty sure he'd be pulling splinters from his nose for months.
"Sorry," I mumbled, rolling off him and looking around me. Not that I could see anything. The room was dark, too dark. "Jake, do you have my phone? We need a light."
I heard Jake roll over, the rustle of clothing, and then the relief of light. As he shone it around us, I quickly realized we were in the previously locked room in the old house. Just like I had thought we were. The only thing I hadn't figured was that the secret entrance to the safe room was hidden behind the fireplace. Humph. Smart.
"Let's hope that door's not locked this time," said Jake, pulling himself to standing and nodding toward the door to freedom.
I silently agreed, pushing the fireplace back into place in the hope that if anyone came back here, they wouldn't know right away we'd escaped.
As we made our way into the lounge room, my heart pounded with excitement that we'd made it out of the room and were heading back toward the station. Hopefully straight into the arms of Sam. Even if he didn't want me there, I figured I'd been through enough tonight to deserve one little treat.
Jake moved through the lounge and into the kitchen. As he turned the corner, retracing our steps from earlier this evening, he stopped, cursing loudly as he did so.
Because there, looking eerie in the glow of my flashlight, staring back at us, was a face. Sally.
I screamed. Jake screamed, and Sally screamed. I'm not sure which one of us was the most surprised.
"Arghhhh," I screamed. "Sally, you scared the shit out of me," I yelled, putting my hand on my chest in the hope it would stop the heart attack starting.
"Well, you scared the shit out of me," she yelled back. "What are you doing here? Everyone is looking for you!"
"Everyone?" I asked.
"Well, Sam and Matt are. Mostly everybody else is asleep."
Humph.
"Oh my goodness. I can't believe I found you! I've been so worried," she said, emotion causing her voice to crack.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, as Jake stepped around her and headed for the door.
"I was helping Sam and Matt look for you. Where are you going?" she asked Jake.
"Out."
"But this way is out," she said, pointing to the back door.
"Oh. I was just going the way we went earlier."
Personally, I didn't care which door we took. I just wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible.
"So, what happened to you?" she asked, following Jake.
I followed them both, giving her the short version of events as we all made our way out of the house and into the cool early morning air. The clouds from the earlier storm had moved out, and the partial moon was now bathing the wet grass in limited light. I couldn't tell you how cold I was. Adrenaline seemed to be helping me forget about that.
I was just telling Sally how we escaped from the locked room when she stepped closer to Jake, swung her handbag, and hit him hard across the back of the head. I had no idea what was in her bag, but Jake dropped to the dirt, the light from my phone dying as it landed next to him.
What the…?
"Sally! What did you do that for?" I asked, running next to him.
"He had to be stopped before he got too far," she explained. She moved to stand next to him.
"What?" I asked, completely confused, as she grabbed Jake's feet and started to pull him backward toward the house.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to him as she moved. "I'm sorry, Jake. But this is for your own good. Don't worry," she said to me. "He'll be fine. I didn't hit him that hard. Alex, there's a gate. Open it, will you?" she commanded. The meek and mild Sally from earlier was now gone, replaced with a woman who seemed strong and in control.
"No!" I yelled. "I won't open it."
My mind flicked to Wes and how he'd died from a blow to the head. Was Jake okay? And what the hell was Sally doing?
She dropped Jake's feet and looked at me. "Really?" she asked.
I shook my head as I moved to Jake, checking to see if he was still breathing, my own breath coming out in short, sharp spurts. I was fighting the desire to hyperventilate.
I gave a sigh of relief as I realized he was still breathing, but I knew that when he regained consciousness he was going to be severely pissed off as he now had mud up his nose from being dragged backward through it.
My mind raced through scenarios of what I should do next. It was having trouble comprehending Sally. My intuition definitely let me down on this one. I hurriedly looked around me, checking to see how far I could run before she caught me and hit me like she did Jake. And why did she hit him anyway? Was she the one who'd been hurting everyone tonight?
I spun to look at her. The only light we had was coming from the moon, and that wasn't great. But in it, I could see that Sally looked slightly deranged. Her earlier neatness had been replaced with messy hair and dirty clothes. I hadn't noticed that earlier tonight. Probably because I'd been so preoccupied with finding Jake and Stuart, I hadn't looked at anybody properly.
But why hadn't I? I was one of the few who knew a murderer was among us. Why hadn't I been looking closer at people? I smashed my forehead with my fists, frustrated with myself. But then, nobody else had looked at her either. Sally was a sweetheart. She always had been. She looked after her sick mother. She used to bring us all cake on our birthdays. She always organized secret Santa. She didn't hit people!
"Look, Alex, we can't leave him here," she said to me calmly. "Grab his arms, and then he won't have to be dragged through the mud. I don't like doing that to him." She placed her hands on her hips and looked at me, almost pleading. Panic bubbled up inside me as a few
of the pieces fell into place.
I looked back toward the main building, assessing the distance. I had to first get around the building, and then I reckoned it to be a good few hundred meters to the station. Could I make that? And did I want to leave Jake alone with her? Probably not, but that wouldn't bring help to us. Jake and Stuart needed help, and I could bet my last dollar that Sally wouldn't be offering any. And unless someone was out here looking for us, no one would hear my screams for help, but what the hell? It couldn't hurt, right?
I took a deep breath and opened my mouth, allowing all the emotion from tonight to propel my voice as far as it would go.
"Help!" I screamed over and over again.
The mountain and the valley below it gave my voice an echo, and as I heard my own voice come back to me, I screamed again. I took off at a run for the main building. I didn't know if I could make it, but I guessed the fight-or-flight reaction thing had kicked in.
I didn't get too far, only to the other side of the house. It seemed that all the weight Sally had lost had definitely paid off. She caught up with me quickly, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop.
"Alex! Stop!" she yelled. "You're giving me a headache!"
I wriggled in an attempt to free myself from her and swatted her with my free hand. She pulled me backward toward her and put both arms around me, holding me tight.
When I was a kid, my dad and I had wrestled a lot. I was known as the wiggle worm, because I could wiggle my body so much that eventually he would lose his grip. And that's what happened with Sally. She lost her hold on me.
I didn't need another opportunity. I took off at a run across the car park, heading toward the main building, dodging and weaving every attempt she made to catch me. What I forgot about, though, was the pothole in the concrete.
My high-heeled pump caught the edge of it, causing me to go over on my ankle. I screamed at the pain shooting up my leg as I fell to the ground.
Sally caught up with me, lifting me under the arms and dragging me up. When she had me far enough, she fireman-lifted me over her shoulder and marched me back to the house. I was shocked at her strength.
Invitation to Murder Page 18
