“My keys are in my purse,” she apologized.
Bram looked as if he’d expected no less. “We’ll go in through a window. You’re certain the alarm system doesn’t work?”
“Positive. Last year they told Marcus the system needed to be completely rewired. I’ll bet that’s when he got the idea to put grills on the windows.”
Bram crossed to the parlor window farthest from the main door. He hadn’t put up bars here yet. Pulling a tool from his pocket, he tapped the glass gently above the lock. To Hayley, the sound was horrifically loud, but Bram didn’t look concerned. None of the front rooms were occupied, so he was probably right not to worry, but her nerves were doing a tap dance inside her.
Wrapping a handkerchief around his hand, Bram reached through the broken pane to unlock the window. Seconds later, he was helping her climb over the sill. Broken glass crunched beneath their feet.
The house was deathly quiet, as if waiting in gloomy silence for the sun’s rays to strike. Hayley was vividly reminded of the night she’d sensed a presence in this room. Now the entire house seemed filled with menace. The urge to turn around was strong, but Bram was already moving across the floor. He tested the doors leading to the front hall. Locked. Going around the desk, he reached for the door leading back to the offices. The handle twisted freely.
A chill galloped straight down her spine. Bram shot her a tight look. She knew what he was thinking. This was too easy. It was as if someone wanted them to go inside.
“Are you sure no one is up yet?” he whispered in her ear.
“Even Marcus doesn’t get up this early.”
Bram stepped into the narrow hallway. Two closed doors faced them, and another was to his immediate right. Bram looked at her questioningly.
“Closet,” she mouthed, pointing to the door on his right. “Bathroom,” she whispered, pointing straight ahead. “Lab. Exam rooms. The office is at the end of the hall.”
She’d only been back here once as a kid. Some new equipment had been delivered and Marcus was out front arguing with the delivery men. No one else had been around and the doors had been standing wide open, so she’d dared Leigh to explore with her. They’d crept inside like a pair of thieves—exactly as she and Bram were doing now.
She hoped this situation would have a happier ending. She was pretty sure Marcus wouldn’t settle for yelling at her this time.
“What’s that smell?” Bram whispered.
Hayley shook her head. A strong chemical odor lingered in the air. “Cleaning solution?”
Bram scowled. He bypassed the closet and headed for the lab. Hayley wasn’t surprised. If Marcus had something to hide, it would be in there or in his office. The door was locked, but there was no keyhole, just a small, round hole. Bram reached above the frame with the handkerchief still wrapped around his hand. Puzzled, she watched as he felt along the molding and pulled down a shiny object.
“What is that?”
“Key,” he whispered back.
Unlike the original heavy wooden doors, these were hollow, the type carried by most hardware stores. Fascinated, Hayley watched him insert the device into the tiny round hole on the knob. The door opened with a small click.
“How did you know that was there?” she whispered.
“Builders usually put them there for safety in new construction.”
Impressed, she followed him inside. The chemical smell was stronger in here. He hit the light switch. The fluorescent lighting seemed overly bright after the darkness of the hall. Hayley peered around the cluttered room. “Someone’s been using this.”
Bram nodded. He surveyed the room without moving. An almost invisible layer of dust showed signs of being recently disturbed. Hayley started to run a finger over the counter when Bram stopped her.
“Put these on first.”
Reaching into a box of surgical gloves, he yanked one free without touching anything else. After pulling it on, he removed three more and handed her a pair.
“We don’t need to worry about fingerprints,” she protested. “I own Heartskeep.”
“You do. I don’t. We’ll argue later. Put them on.”
Hayley did so as Bram began opening drawers and cupboards. He stopped when he came to a drawer containing an open box of needles and syringes. Selecting one, he placed it inside a clear plastic bag he’d found in the drawer.
“What are you doing?”
“I want to see if this makes the same size mark as the one on the water bottle.”
“Oh.”
Minutes ticked past. He opened every door and drawer. Marcus had a lot of equipment. He’d done some in vitro fertilization as well as cryosurgery here in his office.
“What’s that?” Bram asked, indicating a tiny cupboard-like box on the wall between the lab and the bathroom.
“A pass-through for urine specimens.”
“Right.”
It never would have occurred to her to check inside, but Bram did. He withdrew a tightly sealed bottle containing a perfectly clear liquid.
“What is it?”
“We’ll have to ask Rhea.”
Taking a clean hypodermic needle, Bram deftly withdrew a sample of the liquid. Carefully, he replaced the bottle. Now she saw the sense in not leaving prints. He didn’t want to contaminate possible evidence. When he opened the refrigerator in the corner, she tapped him on the arm.
“I’m going to have a look in his office to save time.”
Bram scowled. “I want us out of here in ten minutes or less.”
Hayley was tempted to point out that ten minutes wasn’t enough time, but the tension in his expression made her nod and hurry to the end of the hall. Because he was usually so calm and unflappable, Bram’s nervousness added a layer to her own.
She realized that if the office was locked, she wouldn’t be tall enough to take down one of those handy little key things. Surprisingly, the office was unlocked.
Distinctly uneasy now, she stepped inside. The chemical smell was strongest in here. The odor was enough to give her a headache.
The single window behind the desk would allow only a minimal amount of light in the room once the sun came up. Unlike the lab, which didn’t have any windows, lights turned on in here would be clearly visible to anyone outside. There wasn’t any choice. She didn’t know what time Mrs. Norwhich started her day, yet surely not before five-thirty or so. Hayley turned on the lights.
Marcus hadn’t practiced medicine in a long time, but someone was still using this office, as well. Curiosity propelled Hayley toward the heavy maple desk. A computer and printer sat on the credenza behind it. Ten minutes would never be enough time to search everything, so she decided to ignore the machine and the tempting desk drawers and concentrate on the cherry filing cabinets against the far wall first.
When she opened the top drawer, the pungent chemical smell nearly overwhelmed her. The files were orderly, but damp, as if they’d been sprayed with an atomizer.
Her first thought was that Marcus had called in a fumigator to spray for bugs. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d needed help against pests that had wanted to set up housekeeping indoors. But this smell was different. And the files were so damp they must have been sprayed very recently.
Maybe someone was awake at this hour. Fear sent Hayley’s heart racing. A noise in the hall made her freeze until she realized it was Bram opening the closet door. She was about to go and tell him what she’d discovered when one file caught her eye.
MYERS, Helen.
The file sat there, silently accusing.
Bram had said Marcus wasn’t his wife’s doctor. Hayley believed him, despite this evidence to the contrary. Tugging the file free, she saw it looked different than the files around it. She flipped it open and realized the file was a fake. Nurses generally recorded preliminary information, then the doctor would write his notes regarding medications or treatments. Only one person had written on the sheets of paper inside. Hayley had been right after all. Someone was t
rying to frame Bram.
Or were they trying to set him up so she would distrust him?
It disturbed Hayley to realize she wouldn’t recognize Eden’s or Marcus’s handwriting. How sad to think she’d grown up with a father who had never signed a permission form or a birthday card.
Before she could compare the file with the writing in one of the others, there was a noise in the hall. Something fell. A door slammed. Hayley ran to the doorway to see Bram picking himself up off the carpeting. Blood streamed down the side of his face from a gash on his forehead.
As she hurried toward him, he swayed, his hand going to the injury. It came away red with blood. Terrified, she dropped the file and tried to support his weight. He pushed her away, toward the exit. “Go!”
“You’re hurt!”
“Get out of here! Now!”
He was bleeding profusely. She reached for him again and her heart threatened to stop when he sagged heavily against her. Her gaze landed on an object on the carpeting near their feet. Bram’s hammer, splattered with his blood.
“Bram!”
“Leave it!” He straightened weakly.
Her eyes and the back of her throat began to sting. The chemical smell was suddenly overwhelming. The doors to the waiting room were closed, but something wet was spreading in a dark evil stain beneath the door.
Terrified, she reached for the knob. It wouldn’t turn. She spun toward Bram. He leaned against the wall of the lab with his eyes closed.
“The door’s locked!”
And the air at her back exploded with a whoosh of sound.
The force sent Hayley careening against him. They went down together as a thick cloud of noxious smoke billowed to the ceiling. There was a loud crackling sound in her ears and an incredible burst of heat at her back.
Overhead, the smoke detector deafened them with its wail. Hungry flames were suddenly everywhere, lapping at the walls and racing along the baseboards.
Bram grabbed her head. He shoved her toward the flames!
Hayley struggled futilely. He’d gone mad! But instead of pitching her into the fire, he shoved her into the tiny bathroom.
Shutting the door behind them with his foot, he thrust her head toward the sink and turned on the water. Only then did she understand. Her ponytail was on fire!
Bram doused the flames and started to cough. Her own lungs were raw and irritated. The sound of the fire raged, even over the blare of the smoke detector.
“We need to block the door,” he gasped between coughs.
She could barely hear over the din, but she had no trouble seeing the smoke pouring in beneath the door. There was nothing in the small room to use!
Bram stripped off his shirt. He wet it down and stuffed it against the bottom of the door. Smoke filled the room, trapped there with them.
“There’s no other way out!” Hayley shouted.
The only exit to this string of rooms was the door where the fire had started.
Bram rested his hand on the wall next to the sink. She thought he was about to collapse, but then she realized he was testing it for heat.
“What’s on the other side of this wall?” he demanded.
“The ballroom.”
“Stand back.”
Grasping the sink, he kicked at the wall with frightening force. His foot tore a hole right through the wallboard. Hayley realized what he was trying to do, but there wasn’t enough room for both of them to work. She could only watch as he continued kicking, widening the hole.
When it was large enough, he began tearing at the wallboard with his bare hands. He had to keep stopping to wipe his eyes as blood ran into the one near his wound.
Grabbing the hem of her skirt, Hayley tried to tear off a strip of fabric from the bottom. The movies made it look so easy, but the sturdy material resisted her best efforts.
The room was darkening as more smoke seeped inside despite Bram’s shirt. He stopped working and grabbed for her hem. An open pocket knife appeared in his hand. The small blade sliced through the skirt. They were both coughing, struggling to draw a breath.
Rinsing his handkerchief, Bram pressed it against his wound while Hayley wrapped the torn strip from her skirt around his head to hold the handkerchief in place.
They could actually feel the fire’s heat. The wall on the lab side was warm. The fire was already next door! Hayley had no idea what sort of combustibles might be in the lab, but it didn’t take a genius to know the whole place could explode if there were any volatile chemicals.
As Bram renewed his efforts, Hayley wondered where everyone was. Surely the alarm had awakened the entire household. Only they’d be seeking their own escape from the fire. They had no way of knowing anyone was in here.
Bram began kicking at the wall on the ballroom side. This was harder, because the angle was more difficult. The leg of his jeans ripped when it caught on a nail, but a hole finally appeared.
As the second hole widened, Bram grappled with the drywall, punching and pulling at it with superhuman strength. Hayley could see the ballroom floor on the other side. Bram kept at it until the space looked big enough for them to crawl between the studs.
“Go!”
Hayley started through. Her skirt caught on something, trapping her. She felt Bram’s hands at her back. There was a tearing sound. She realized he was using his knife to cut her free. Suddenly, she was loose. She scampered through the hole in the wall, crawling along the polished floor. Her skirt dragged in her wake, torn practically off her body.
“Bram! Hurry!”
But the opening wasn’t large enough for his broad shoulders. Hayley wanted to scream as he backed up and began kicking once more. On her side of the wall, she started ripping at the tough material. The plastic gloves hung from her hands in obscene tatters, like her skirt. She paused to pull the gloves off.
Her fingers were raw and bleeding, but she barely noticed. Heat and smoke poured through the opening. Bram stopped kicking and forced his broad shoulders through the hole. Hayley tugged at him in a frenzy to get him clear, sobbing frantically in her panic.
Then he was free, sprawled on the floor, his scraped, bloody chest heaving as coughs racked him.
“Get up! Get up! We have to get out of here!” She tugged at him until he rose unsteadily. Hayley ran to the heavy wood doors that opened into the main hall. They were locked. So was the other set of doors, and they weren’t the flimsy, hollow doors of the converted offices. These were solid cherry.
Looking at Bram, she realized he wouldn’t have the strength to kick down another wall. Besides, there wasn’t any more drywall. These were the original walls of plaster. With bars on all the windows and fancy gates covering the doors opening onto the patio, they were still trapped. They had just traded one prison for another.
For a long moment, Bram bent over, hands on his thighs, coughing hard. Hayley coughed as well, until her chest ached from the effort. Smoke billowed in through the hole they’d made. She didn’t have to touch that wall to know it would be hot. She could hear the crackle of the flames.
“The fire’s spreading!” Her words ended in a fit of choking.
Bram straightened unsteadily. Blood seeped beneath the bandage, trickling down his soot-streaked face. His chest was filthy—scraped and matted with blood.
Terrified, Hayley grabbed his arm. Together, they staggered across the floor to the far end of the room. Their only hope lay in someone outside seeing their plight.
“We’re trapped.”
Bram shook his head. “Open…window.”
“That will just make the fire spread faster.”
Bram shook his head again.
What did it matter? The air was so foul they’d pass out if they didn’t get fresh air soon, and maybe she could scream for help and someone would hear them.
She fumbled with the catch. The lock was jammed. When she would have smashed the glass with her bare hand, Bram nudged her aside. Yanking down one of the huge drapes hanging there, he used i
t to protect his hand, smashing out several windowpanes. Air reached them—far from cool, but their starving lungs didn’t care.
Using his pocket knife, Bram forced the stiff latch and opened the window. Pausing to cough, he ran his hands along the left side of the bars. It took her a minute to realize what he was doing. Several small, nearly invisible catches were built into the metal. He was releasing them.
“Fail-safe,” he told her with a weak smile.
To her amazement, the grill swung out and away from the window on invisible hinges.
“You are a superhero!”
Bram grabbed her around the waist and boosted her up and out. He doubled over with a coughing fit, then managed to half climb, half fall out of the window beside her.
Together, they staggered across the lawn.
Chapter Twelve
“Ms. Thomas?”
Hayley looked up quickly.
“I’m Dr. Ravens. I understand you’re Mr. Myers’s fiancée?”
Hayley removed the oxygen mask from her face, swung her legs over the side of the gurney and nodded anxiously.
When Bram had suddenly collapsed a short distance from the house, she’d panicked. The house, the fire, the sound of approaching sirens had all faded to insignificance as she’d tried to rouse him without success. Not until she saw the cluster of people running toward her did she realize she was screaming.
Surprisingly, it was Marcus, fully dressed, his hair standing on end and a forbidding scowl on his features, who reached them first.
“Move aside, girl,” he snarled.
“Hayley, come on! Your dad’s a doctor!” Jacob’s hands had pulled her away. She’d struggled, but a coughing spell drained her strength. Jacob was wearing cutoffs and a pair of mismatched socks. The others were all in various stages of undress as well. Obviously, the fire alarm had caught everyone by surprise.
When Jacob pulled her against his naked chest, she’d pushed her way free and turned back to Bram. Eden, in a nightgown and robe, bent beside Marcus, shouting orders to Paula and Mrs. Norwhich. Both of them, Hayley noticed, were fully dressed, but disheveled.
The Firstborn Page 18
