At that, I heard him take a deep breath and then swing the first blow. With every strike, I waited for an explosion, knowing this was absurd. I was risking my very life just because of the panic that was driving me.
It wasn’t until I heard the splintering of wood and knew he was making progress that I realized Heath was risking his life as well—for my sake.
FORTY-FIVE
From the sound of things, it didn’t take Heath very long to break through, and no explosion happened—nothing beyond the crash of wood as he pounded it mercilessly with the axe.
Once the hole he had made was big enough to crawl through, I insisted on going first, though Heath kept telling me to watch for trip wires and wood shards. The wine cellar was dark, so as soon as I made it out I ran up the stairs and flipped on the light.
I knew Floyd had been lying about the explosives. He was only trying to buy himself some time. But that didn’t mean we were home free.
“Sienna, wait!” Heath commanded, and I looked down to see him pulling himself through the opening.
But I couldn’t wait. Instead, I flung open the door at the top of the stairs and fell out into Troy’s room, taking in the deep, gasping breaths of freedom. We were out! We had made it!
But we weren’t safe yet.
I ran to the phone on the nightstand and picked up the receiver, but it was dead. I was pushing the buttons, desperately trying to get a dial tone, when Heath emerged at the top of the stairs. Pausing there, face pale, he turned to study the doorframe, and it wasn’t until that moment I realized why he had told me to wait: Afraid that the explosives had been wired to this door instead of to the stairs, he had wanted to go first, just in case. Again, he had been willing to risk his life for mine.
“The phone’s dead,” I said, clicking the button to no avail.
“Floyd must’ve cut the wire,” Heath said.
Our eyes met for a long moment, and the emotion that passed between us was intense, far more intense than anything we had ever shared. That’s when I knew the truth: Though Heath might not be willing to kill for me, he was certainly willing to die for me, and in that moment I realized that was far more than enough.
Together, we ran through the dark house, trying the other phones, but they were all dead. Our cell phones were nowhere in sight, nor were our car keys. Worst of all, Floyd had taken my revolver from the bedside table drawer where I had been keeping it. We would have to make a run for it without any protection at all.
The closest houses were directly across the street, at the end of my very long driveway. We decided to go out through the front door and run across the lawn, tree to tree, until we had made our way to the road and then across to whichever house had its lights on and people who seemed to be home. There were only a few trees on the front lawn for cover, but at least it was dark, and that might help to hide us a little bit if we encountered anyone we shouldn’t. Heath would go first, and I would follow, staying one tree behind so that we both had cover.
Before we opened the door, I turned and placed my hands on each side of Heath’s face, looking deeply into his eyes. I wanted to say something, but suddenly words failed me.
“You okay now?” he asked. “Feeling more in control?”
“Yes,” I whispered, “but I’m sorry, Heath. I should never have asked that of you.”
He studied my eyes, and then he surprised me by gripping my face as well and planting a long, fierce kiss on my mouth.
“Don’t you get it, Si?” he whispered, his lips still at mine. “I may not be all dangerous and exciting and intense like your detective, but I’m a good man and I’m a safe man and I love you so much sometimes it takes my breath away.”
He punctuated his words with another hard, passionate kiss, and at that moment he took my breath away as well.
Thus united, we opened the front door as quietly as possible and looked out at the dark, grassy lawn. Where was Mike? Why hadn’t he come? Was he out there waiting somewhere, intending to do us harm? If not, then had some harm come to him instead?
There were no signs of activity near the house, at least not that we could see. Across the street, the two homes on the end seemed to have a lot of their lights on, so I pointed to them and Heath nodded.
He gave my hand a final squeeze, and then I watched, heart pounding, as he tiptoed down the steps of the front porch and darted as silently as possible across the grass to the first tree. Stopping there, he looked back at me, gestured for me to do the same, and darted on to the next.
As quietly as possible, I too moved down the steps and across the grass to the first tree. Once there I stopped, looking forward in the darkness to see if Heath had made it to the second. He had, but he was holding up one hand. I realized he wanted me to wait, probably because it sounded as if a car was about to pass on the road out front.
Careful to shield myself from sight behind the trunk, I waited, my senses taking in the night that surrounded me. Crickets chirped. A few fireflies still lit the air. Up ahead, the sound of the passing car reminded me that for some people life was going on as usual.
Finally, judging by the fading sound of the engine and the sweep of the headlights, the car was gone. Peering around the tree toward Heath, I saw him give me the all-clear signal and take off. But as I was about to make a run for it myself, a sudden burst of fire flashed brilliantly in the night air from somewhere off to the right.
I froze, swallowing the yell that threatened to emerge from my throat. Blinking furiously, I willed my eyes to adjust after that shock of light. When they did, I looked ahead toward Heath, only to see him stagger for a moment, grabbing at the back of his leg, and then collapse into a heap on the ground.
Before I could run to him or even call out his name, a hand clamped around my mouth from behind, and I was jerked backward against a solid wall of muscle, my arms pinned to my sides. Whoever had grabbed me held on tight, my struggles no match for his power, my feeble attempts at breaking free like a moth beating wings against glass. Finally, I felt hot breath against my ear. Even before he spoke, though, I knew who it was. I recognized the smell of aftershave, earth, and sweat.
Mike.
My mind reeling, I tried to break free, but he only gripped me more tightly, bracing us against the tree trunk, one hand still clamped across my mouth, the other firmly pinning my arms to my sides. I had no room to make a move at all, not even the most basic self-defense techniques, a kick to his instep or a pinch to the tender skin of his inner thigh. I was trapped.
“Sienna, don’t fight it,” Mike whispered into my ear. “Trust me. I’m trying to protect you.”
Trust me.
Could I trust him?
Before I had the chance to decide, another burst of fire came out of nowhere, even closer this time. Hot breath shot against my neck with a loud grunt. Then slowly the arms that had been holding on so firmly relaxed, and Mike, too, simply fell onto the ground, unconscious.
Eyes wide, trembling violently, I looked up to see someone running toward me with what looked like an air rifle in his hand. As he neared me, he stopped, looking down at Mike’s body and then up at me, meeting my eyes. It was Burl Newton, the man who just yesterday had been arrested and held overnight for possession of cockfighting paraphernalia.
“Sienna! Are you okay?”
I was shocked and disoriented, my mind trying to match what I was seeing with what I knew to be true. Looking down at Mike, I watched as Burl leaned over, set the gun on the ground, and carefully pulled from the detective’s hip what looked like a large yellow plastic dart with an orange tip.
Burl had shot Mike—and Heath as well, obviously—with tranquilizer darts. What I had thought was an air rifle was actually a tranquilizer gun.
“Good thing I got here when I did,” Burl said, pulling a small plastic case from his pocket and gingerly placing the dart inside. He acted as if nothing was wrong, as if it was perfectly normal for him to be kneeling here, doing this. My mind raced as I watched him.
> I thought of his isolated, ramshackle farm, of the empty rooster houses out back, of the big, empty cages and coops in his yard. What a perfect place it would be for mobsters to hide wild animals from time to time—animals bred, raised, and trained for fighting. For blood sport.
Burl’s father had raised gamecocks. Was it really that much of a leap? The son had simply taken things to the next level, to the world of C to B.
Canaries to Bears.
Animals killing animals for the entertainment of man.
I didn’t know what kind of game Burl was playing, but obviously he thought I was stupid, or at least uninformed, and that as long as he acted innocent, I wouldn’t know who the bad guy in this scenario really was. Before he made his next move—whatever that move was going to be—I had to overpower him and make my escape.
For an old guy, though, he was far more nimble than I would have expected. Suddenly, before I could do a thing, he had pulled Mike’s gun from its holster and was pointing it straight at me.
“Hold it right there, Sienna,” Burl said, standing, his beady little eyes fixed on mine. “Don’t move.”
“What do you want, Burl?” I asked. “Are you going to tranquilize me too?”
“Nah, that wouldn’t do any good. I need you nice and awake.”
With a surge of nausea, I held my breath, terrified of what he might say next. What horrible thing did he have in mind?
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, shaking his head. “I just want you to take me to the diamonds. I know you know where they are.”
I hesitated, blinking. That was not what I had expected to hear!
“The diamonds?”
“Yeah, the diamonds. Don’t act all surprised and innocent. Let’s go. To the grove.”
For the next few minutes we walked toward the grove, me at gunpoint as I argued with him. From what I could tell, he had overheard the lies Troy had given to Nina, saying that Heath and I were planning to come here and steal Emory’s diamonds to keep them for ourselves. I tried to tell Burl that Troy had been lying, and that I had no clue where the diamonds were, but he wouldn’t believe me.
“Are you doing this for Emory’s sake?” I asked, thinking of the friendship the two had shared over the years. Perhaps Burl’s motives were more altruistic than they seemed.
That hope was dashed with the laugh that gurgled from Burl’s throat.
“What does Emory care about diamonds?” he cried. “Talk about a waste! I’ve been trying to find those things for years, ever since he showed them to me when we were just kids.”
I thought of my conversation with Nina, of what she had said about Emory and the diamonds. At one time, Emory had known where they were, but then Mr. Abe had caught him blabbing about it, so he chose a new hiding place, which he didn’t share with anyone.
The person Emory had blabbed to was Burl.
Burl had known about the diamonds all along. He’d been looking for them for years. Then along came Troy on a diamond hunt of his own, and Burl wasn’t going to let that happen.
“You killed Troy,” I whispered.
“He was digging in the grove, trying to find the diamonds!” Burl said angrily, poking me in the back with the gun to get me moving again. “All I did was set things up a bit so he would end up killing himself. His own greed is what did him in.”
Almost proudly, Burl explained how he first saw Troy out in the grove with a metal detector on Tuesday and knew immediately what was going on. That whole day, he had shadowed Troy, watching and listening, even hearing his exchange with Nina. That first evening, after Troy had given up for the night, Burl had set his traps. From doing odd jobs now and then, he knew that there were some old, hazardous chemicals in Emory’s barn. All he’d had to do was dig some holes in the grove, fill them with one of the chemicals, throw something metal in the mix to set off the detector, and then cover it all up with some dirt. When Troy would go to scoop out that dirt the next day, he was going to get plenty of it on his hands, enough for a fatal dose of poison. Best of all, it would simply look like an accident, like Troy had stumbled upon some pesticide without realizing what it was.
“This grove is huge, Burl,” I said, shaking my head. “How many holes did you dig and fill?”
“Just a few. But getting him to find those holes took a little finesse.”
As we reached the outer path and headed toward the main gate, Burl told the story of how he had manipulated Troy.
“I came out into the grove on Wednesday afternoon—just walked right up to him and said hello. ‘Is that you, Troy?’ I called out, acting like I was all confused. ‘’Cause for a minute, I thought I was seeing things, I thought you were Abe himself, come back from the grave.’ Of course, Troy wasn’t in the mood to chat, and he sure didn’t want me to notice what he was doing and start asking questions. So I didn’t hang around. I just wrapped things up real quick and said, ‘The last time I saw Abe in here digging a hole, it was over in that section by the blackberry bushes.’ That was all it took. I left, and what do you know? Within an hour, there was Troy, digging around by the blackberry bushes and getting all excited when his metal detector went off. Everything worked like a charm—at least until he got confused and started wandering off the wrong way. Unlocking latches, setting things free, it looked like it was gonna be a big disaster for a while, especially when those other two got into the mix. Thank goodness I had my tranq gun, or I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
“What was the animal, Burl? What kind of creature attacked Troy?”
He just laughed and said that it didn’t matter now, that I didn’t really want to know.
We reached the main gate, where I was planning to make my move. All the way here, I had tried to come up with something, and this was the best I could do. This was the gate about Cupid, the one with the ironwork that featured two arrows, one tipped with “lead” and one with “gold.”
“All right, well, here we go,” I said, trying to sound frustrated and dejected. “Believe it or not, the two arrows in the design of this gate are hollow. The diamonds are down inside.”
It was a lie, but as I spoke I positioned myself behind the gate, telling Burl that there was a little latch somewhere along there that would pop the tip of the arrow off.
Glancing at Burl, I could tell that he wasn’t sure whether to believe me or not. But I continued to act it out, running my fingers along the cold metal, much as I had run them along the wall inside the hidden room. Finally, when he had stepped close enough to take a look himself, I gripped the gate with both hands and swung it forward as hard as I could, knocking him to the ground.
He recovered quickly, too quickly for me to get the gun away from him. So I did the next best thing. I pulled a surprise leg sweep, kicking in a broad, sideways curve that knocked his legs out from under him again. As he hit the ground, I took off running into the grove, zigzagging in the darkness, diving for cover as bullets pinged into the trees around me.
At least I was younger than he was, and faster. When I got to the bridge at the center, I ran across it and kept going, around the Daphne tree and back onto the path. I wanted to run to Jonah and Liesl’s house, but their open fields would provide no cover, making me an easy target. Instead, I ran to Emory’s, an idea springing to mind as soon as I emerged from the grove and into his yard. Abe and his son had lived in this smaller house for thirteen years before he died. Surely, he had created a “safe room” for Emory here, just like the one at the B and B.
Running to the door, I didn’t even knock but simply burst in, startling both Emory, who was sitting in his recliner eating popcorn and watching TV, and Liesl, who was folding a basket of his laundry nearby.
“Sienna! What—”
“Emory!” I cried, locking the door behind me, racing from window to window to check the locks. “We’re in danger! Do you have a special place you’re supposed to go if this happens—if you find yourself in danger?”
Emory stood, dropping the bowl of popcorn
to the floor, his mouth open wide in shock.
“It’s okay, I know your dad told you to keep it a secret, but you can trust me. I want to protect you. Liesl and I both do.”
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Emory, where is it?” I said, ignoring her for now. “Where is the entrance to your secret room?”
Liesl looked from me to him and back again.
“It has two entrances,” he said finally. “The closest one is through my bedroom closet.”
FORTY-SIX
Emory went through the opening first, a bit agitated but so far under control. Surely he and his father had practiced drills like this throughout his life in order for him to be ready for a moment such as this. As Liesl climbed down inside after him, she stared around in shock and awe. Later, when we were free to talk away from Emory, I would explain to her fully what this room was and why it was here.
I had no intention of going into the hidden room with them. My goal was simply to get the two of them to safety while I used Emory’s phone to call for help and then keep myself out of sight elsewhere in the house until the police arrived. Right now, though, they still needed the light that was coming in through the open doorway, so I told them I would be right back and used the phone on Emory’s nightstand. Fingers shaking, I dialed 911, feeling exposed and wishing this was a portable phone and that I could return to the closet to finish this call.
At least I connected with a 911 operator right away. This time, it was a woman, and she told me she was sending help immediately.
“Thank you,” I gasped. “I won’t hang up the phone, but I need to hide, so I’m just going to set the receiver down here on the nightstand. If the police come and they can’t find us, tell them we’re hiding in a safe room that can be accessed through a hidden panel in the back of the closet in the bedroom that has the bird posters in it.” I added that on the front lawn of the Harmony Grove Bed & Breakfast next door were two men who had been shot by Burl Newton with a tranquilizer gun and that one of them was a police officer.
Secrets of Harmony Grove Page 35
