Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [128]
Somewhere.
Yeah, like in Charla King’s possession.
No, that didn’t make sense. Jules doubted Lynch would trust anyone, even King, with the key to his private files.
Bam!
The fire popped suddenly, sounding for all the world like the sharp report of a gun.
Jules bit back a scream, her knees nearly giving out, her pulse skyrocketing. She was just no good at this cloak-and-dagger stuff, no good at all. She wasn’t cut out for this.
Every muscle tense, she did a quick search, touching the underside of drawers, looking under plants, even flipping up the corners of the carpet. Again, she came up dry.
Frustration ground through her.
Where, where, where would he hide them?
Maybe they weren’t in the office. But, then, where?
She’d never been a quitter and hadn’t come this far to give up, but she was running out of ideas. And time was against her. Soon, she knew, Taggert and Takasumi would check the chapel. Would they think she’d just left and returned to her suite, or would they search for her? She couldn’t be sure.
Sweat dampening her palms, she found a letter opener in the top drawer of the desk, but it was too large to slip into the lock. Ditto, the nail file. All of her own keys were too large.
“Damn, damn, damn,” she whispered.
Maybe there was nothing in the files. Maybe her pathetic attempts at sleuthing weren’t worth the time. And yet…she reached around the back of the file cabinet, running her fingers down the flat back and came up with nothing. Short of prying the damned drawer open with a hammer and breaking the lock, she thought there was no way to open the damned cabinet.
Creeeak.
A footstep sounded in the hallway.
Jules’s heart leapt to her throat.
She froze, praying she’d imagined the sound.
Then the quiet, steady thud of footsteps, getting louder, coming closer.
Oh, God!
Keys jangled in the hallway on the other side of Lynch’s office door.
Oh, no!
She eased even closer to the bathroom as the reverend’s muffled voice penetrated the door. “Well, I hope to high heaven that the FBI does show up,” he said as Jules slid from behind his desk toward the bathroom door. “Someone has to do something!”
Who was he talking to? Hopefully someone who would keep him distracted long enough for her to escape.
“Absolutely!”
The door was shouldered open just as Jules slipped into the restroom, the door whispering shut behind her.
“Yes, yes, I know. Trust me, I’m aware that we’ve got a serious problem,” Lynch was saying.
The lock clicked softly under her fingertips. Her heart raced madly as she listened to Lynch’s footsteps thumping through his office. Should she stay? Or should she try to leave now, out the door to the hallway and, if he found her, use the same excuse she had given Wade and Takasumi?
Lynch was still talking, his voice rising to be heard, but no one responded, and she guessed he was on his phone. “I know that! Just get someone up here…What? Sheriff? You’re cutting out! Can you hear me?” A pause. “Sheriff O’Donnell? Can you hear me?” Another long pause and Jules hardly dared breathe. “Sheriff? Oh, heavens. Blaine? If you can hear me, I can’t hear you. I’m hanging up now. Call me back!”
Then only silence.
Jules didn’t dare move as sweat dripped down her back. She stood, ear to the door, listening hard, every instinct in her body insisting she run.
Be patient.
Just wait.
Maybe you’ll learn something.
She closed her eyes.
Concentrated.
Through the door she heard a click—a lock—then the rumble of a large drawer being opened. She bit her lip, tried to slow her breathing.
Slap! Papers being tossed onto his desk?
Slap! Again.
“That should do it,” he said, his voice lower as his footsteps crossed the room again, coming closer. Jules hardly dared breathe. She took a step back only to hear a creaking, metallic