False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [99]
“Maybe they wanted to get their business done so they could go.” Savannah squeezed Hebert’s hand and let go. “If you fellas need something, holler. I’ve got to get these other tables freshened up.”
Savannah walked out to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator where she kept the fresh-cut flowers for the vases. Something was going on with Zoe and Pierce. Why had the back door been left wide open? Why had the sheriff come in, asking questions about Vanessa Langley? Why hadn’t Zoe or Pierce called today to check in? In the four years she had worked for them, could she ever remember a time when they had gone twenty-four hours without calling an inordinate number of times to see how things were running?
“Hurry,” the stranger said. “He’ll be here any second. Everybody stand up. I’ll shine the flashlight on the stairs. You need to go down quickly and carefully. Move!”
“Zoe, you go first,” Pierce whispered. “I’ll help Vanessa.”
Zoe turned around and saw that the alcove went back another five feet or so to another door. She opened it and waited until the stranger shone the beam of light down a long, narrow staircase. She stepped down, holding the walls on both sides, and quickly made her way to the bottom, instantly hit with the cool temperature and damp, musty smell. A few seconds later the others were behind her.
The stranger shone the light on the far wall. “There’s another door behind that empty bookcase.”
Zoe hurried over to the bookcase and moved it aside, surprised that it wasn’t heavy. She pulled open the door and saw a narrow tunnel, barely high enough for her walk through without bending or touching the sides.
“Go on,” Vanessa said. “We’re right behind you.”
Zoe stepped inside and froze. Were those spider eggs on the ceiling?
“Everybody in the tunnel,” the stranger said. “We hafta put enough space between us and the fella with the gun so he won’t have light.”
“He’s got my key ring,” Vanessa said. “It has one of those blue lights on it.”
“Then we don’t have a second to waste!” the stranger said. “Move it!”
Zoe took a couple of tentative steps and stopped, aware of someone nudging her forward.
“Hurry,” Vanessa said. “I hear Cowan’s voice.”
Zoe felt as if she couldn’t get air, and her shoes were nailed to the floor. “I-I can’t see. Hardly any of the light from the flashlight is getting through.”
“Just go straight,” Vanessa said. “Hurry! He’s on the staircase!”
“Here, let me through,” Pierce said. “She’s terrified of spiders and small spaces.”
Zoe was aware of some shuffling behind her, then felt Pierce’s hand on her shoulder and saw that he was holding the flashlight.
“You can’t stop to think about this, Zoe. You just have to do it. I’ll help you. Come on.”
He held the beam of light on the path, and she kept her eyes down, aware of him pushing her down the tunnel at a rapid clip until they reached a wall—and what appeared to be a hatch overhead.
Pierce handed her the flashlight, then climbed the metal rungs that were secured to the wall and pushed up on the hatch until it opened, then jumped down, grabbed the flashlight, and tossed it to the stranger.
“Come on. I’ll give you a boost.”
Pierce locked his fingers together, and Zoe stepped on his hands so he could lift her onto the rungs. She climbed up to the top, blinded for a few seconds by the outdoor light. She stepped outside, felt the air, like a heavy, wet blanket, and realized she was in the woods.
One by one the others came up. Vanessa. Pierce. The stranger—an African-American man, unshaven and shabbily dressed, who appeared to be about fifty, give or take. Slight build. Kind eyes.
“Thank you for helping us! I’m Vanessa Langley. My husband and I own this house. Who are you?”
“Noah Washington. We’ll talk later. Right now, we need to spread out in these woods. The fella with the gun is only a minute behind us.”
“Can’t we sit on the hatch?” Pierce said, “and let the girls go call for help?”
“Not unless you wanna get shot in the behind.” Noah