Hidden Motive (18 page)

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Authors: Hannah Alexander

BOOK: Hidden Motive
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TWENTY-EIGHT

S
able could have kicked herself for sending everyone into the cave. At the time, it had seemed the obvious choice. She reached up and touched the side of Murph's head, where an ugly bruise already mottled the skin. A second concussion within this short of a time frame could be dangerous.

He winced and drew away. “That can wait. I think we need to take the chance that Simmons went into the cave.”

“It would be nice to have more firepower,” Sable said. “There's a shotgun in the closet where I got this pistol.”

“Good idea. I'll stay here and watch.”

Sable ran upstairs and grabbed the shotgun, a box of shells and her medical bag, then joined Murph at the basement door. They slipped through the doorway and down the stairs.

No one ambushed them.

At the entrance to the cave, Sable pulled her flashlight out of her pocket, but didn't turn it on. She touched Murph's arm. “We'll have to continue in the dark. Hold on to me, I know the way by feel.”

“The pit?”

“I'll stay well away from that.”

As soon as they stepped into the black safety of the cave, Sable stopped. “Is that voices, or dripping water?”

“Water,” Murph whispered in her ear. “Go on.”

They moved deeper into the darkness, groping along the rough, wet cave wall. They reached the point where the path curved around a column of limestone when they heard a low, angry voice. Simmons.

Sable halted and touched Murph's arm.

“What are you going to do to me?” It was Bryce.

Sable stifled a gasp. No! Simmons was using a child as a hostage! How had this happened?

“You'll be the bait in a nice trap for our friends,” Simmons said.

Sable squeezed Murph's arm, urging him behind an outcropping of rock. As he joined her, she saw the dim glow of a shielded flashlight beam as Simmons and Bryce approached.

She waited until Bryce came into sight, walking directly in front of Simmons. She squeezed Murph's arm again. Simmons had the barrel of his pistol against Bryce's right temple. One move could kill the boy.

They could do nothing but watch as darkness descended again, and the footsteps of captive and captor receded.

“Think we should follow them?” Sable asked.

“We can't leave Bryce alone with that maniac, but Simmons isn't taking any chances,” Murph said.

“They'll have reached the basement.” She started after them.

Murph stopped her. “We can't just barge through the door and say ‘boo,' or Simmons's ploy will work.”

“But he won't expect us to come at him from the cave.”

“Of course he will,” Murph said. “Especially once he discovers we're not in the house. Sable, what about that sinkhole Craig found?”

Sable nodded in the darkness. “You read my mind. I left the window cracked in the sewing room, in case we were able to get outside. Once Simmons searches the house, he won't expect anyone to be upstairs. If one of us can get out the sinkhole—”

“I manage better on the ice than you do.”

She nudged him deeper into the cave. “We'll see. Anyway, we need to find that sinkhole, Murph. First, we'll check and make sure the others are well hidden, so Simmons doesn't return and add to his hostages.”

 

Murph was relieved when Sable decided they were far enough away from the house to risk using her flashlight. He was especially worried about Audry and Perry now; Simmons would lose his advantage if anything happened to Bryce, therefore Bryce may be safe as long as everyone else stayed out of the killer's reach.

Sable found Audry and Perry in ten minutes.

“S-Sable?” It was Audry's quavering voice, coming from behind a ledge at the far end of the small cavern of marbled rust formations. The older woman stepped out from behind the ledge, a coil of rope over her shoulder. Perry followed, mud streaking his face, a rip in the right knee of his slacks.

“Oh, Sable, honey,” Audry said, “when you didn't show up, we thought that man had you for sure.”

“He has Bryce,” Sable said.

“No!” Perry exclaimed. “He said he'd be very careful. He just wanted to go back to the basement and listen through the door, to see if you were safe.”

“We tried to stop him,” Audry said, “but he was gung ho to save you. How do we get Bryce out of that murderer's hands?”

“We have a plan,” Murph said, “but it involves keeping the two of you safe.”

“I think our best chance is for one of us to return to the house and distract Simmons,” Audry said. “That will give the others time to come in and overpower him. I could go.”

“He's got a gun.” Perry glanced at the medical bag in Sable's hand and at the shotgun Murph had slung over his shoulder. “Are you sure that works?”

“Grandpa kept his guns in good repair,” Sable said.

Perry reached behind a stalagmite and pulled out a small shovel. “We hid this back here.”

“Good,” Sable said. “We need it. Come with us.”

“Sable, I've already volunteered to go for help if we can get out of here,” Perry told her as he and Audry fell into line behind Sable and Murph. “Don't try to talk me out of it.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.” She hesitated. “We'll hide you well, but do you want this shotgun?”

“No, you need it more than we do,” Perry said.

A few minutes later, breathing heavily, Perry tugged at the collar of his jacket. “It's hot down here.”

“That's because you're wearing that heavy jacket,” Audry replied. “You thought it would be cold down here, dummy.”

“No, I thought it would be cold if we get outside, and who knows when we'll end up outside? That hard ice sure sounds good to me now, and I never thought I'd say that.”

Sable stopped in the breakdown cavern, from which two rough passages led. “This is the passage that leads to the sinkhole.” She aimed her light along the crawl space littered with smooth rocks from a dry streambed. “This is where we'll come back to get you two. There are plenty of boulders that are great for hiding. You might need to get out of here by yourselves.”

“Meaning what?” Audry demanded.

“We need witnesses if something happens,” Sable adjusted the rope over Murph's shoulders. “Tell the local police what happened here, and have them check out Otis Boswell of Boswell Mining. I'm sure that's who Simmons works for. The evidence is in the attic safe.”

“Do the two of you have only one flashlight?” Murph asked.

“Two, but this is the best one.” Perry held up his light. “We won't use the other one unless we have to.”

“Good thinking. Don't come out until either Sable or I come back for you…or unless…”

Audry squeezed Murph's arm. “Take care of her.”

“I will.”

Murph followed Sable silently for several minutes, crawling through tight spots, climbing over ledges, scrambling through a stream. He was grateful for her knowledge of this place, and for her courage.

“I forgot to thank you earlier.” He kept his voice low, his gaze trained into the darkness ahead of them.

“For what?”

“For busting me loose when Simmons had the drop on me.”

“I did not bust you loose, I merely distracted him.”

“If you hadn't been there, I don't know what would've happened.”

“The same could be said of you.”

“There's just one thing, though,” Murph said.

“What's that?”

“In case it ever comes up again, you never warn a killer before you shoot. Just shoot.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I'll try to remember that,” she said matter-of-factly, shining her light back along the way they had come. “You do realize, don't you, that Simmons might already be back down here?”

Murph nodded. “He'll know by now that we're not in the house.”

“But if I have to be trapped in a cave with a killer on the loose,” she murmured quietly, “I'm glad it's with you.”

“Why?”

“You make a bigger target.”

TWENTY-NINE

S
able heard a splash of water, and she grabbed Murph's arm, switching off her light. “Listen.”

They stood in absolute darkness and waited for a long moment. She heard only the sounds of their breathing, and the patter of dripping water.

“What was it?” Murph asked.

She turned her light back on. “Probably nothing. Just keep watch behind us.”

They were soon walking through drifts of fog that thickened rapidly, reflecting her light back at her. The swirls of mist ebbed and swayed in ghostly patterns, hiding formations that would suddenly appear before them, blocking their path.

They proceeded another fifty yards along the passage, then Murph reached for her light and switched it off.

“Did you hear something?” Sable whispered.

“Water. Listen.”

This time the sound of lapping was louder, more definite.

“That's more than just a few drips of seepage,” Sable whispered, feeling a stir of excitement. “That's a steady stream. We may have found the sinkhole.”

“I think so.”

She switched the light back on and they followed the sound of water a few more yards, until icy air and mist as thick as a blanket hit their faces.

“Looks like the place Craig described,” Sable said.

“We'll have to climb.” Murph pulled out his own light and aimed it all around them, then stepped over to the cave wall and touched it. “Wet. I'll climb to the top, then you hoist the medical bag up to me.”

With the shotgun in its sling over his left shoulder, and the Detonics pistol tucked in its holster, he handed Sable his flashlight and climbed the ten-foot bank.

Sable waited until he reached the top, then tossed him the medical bag and flashlight, and followed. They didn't need the shovel, after all. It looked as if Craig had knocked some rocks out of the way.

Murph straightened and stood, placed the shotgun beside him on the ledge and reached down to help Sable the final few feet to the ledge.

He indicated the sinkhole above them, which opened into the night sky with a rough diameter of perhaps two feet. From that opening dangled several long roots from a bush or a small tree.

“If these roots are strong enough,” Murph said, “I can use them to pull myself up, then drop the rope down to you.”

“Or you could lift me up, and I could tie the rope around the tree or bush that belongs to those roots.”

“I'm going first. We don't know where this comes out.”

“So what's your point?” Sable asked.

He looked back down at her. “My point is it could be dangerous, I'm bigger than you, so I say who goes.” Murph stepped onto the clay embankment. “Hold your light for me, and I'll stick mine in my pocket.”

Now was not the time for rebellion. She did as he asked. “Just hurry.”

“I'll leave the gun and the bag down here. You can hand them up to me before you come up,” Murph said.

“I'll carry the shotgun, Murph.”

He reached up for one of the thick roots near the sinkhole, jerked on it, then hoisted himself up, arm muscles bulging as he reached for another root closer to the hole. The root snapped, and he hit the ground with a grunt.

“I liked my plan better,” Sable said. “Give me the rope and give me a boost.”

Murph readjusted the rope over his shoulder and once more stepped up the slanted clay wall.

This time the roots held. He reached the opening and pulled himself up with a scattering of dirt and pebbles.

A falling rock missed Sable's head by inches and hit the cave floor with an echoing clatter. She turned a fearful gaze back down along the passage, but she saw nothing.

Murph peered back down through the sinkhole. “This comes out by the creek, all right. A couple more feet, and the creek would have been in the cave. The bank is steep and slick.”

“So you know where you are?”

“I see a corner of the house from here.”

She tossed the medical bag up to him. “Now just tie the rope and get to Craig. I'll sling the gun over my shoulder.”

He hesitated, his misgivings obvious on his face in the glow of her flashlight.

“I'm coming, Murph. Just hurry.”

Murph withdrew from the mouth of the sinkhole. Seconds later, the rope unfurled beside Sable.

When she reached for it, the beam of her flashlight reflected against a black vein of some kind of deposit in the cave wall a few feet past the sinkhole.

She reached for the shotgun, grasped the rope, then hesitated. With a quick sweep of her light, she found the vein once more. This was no time to inspect further. She had to catch up with Murph.

She turned off her light and stuck it in her back pocket, looped the shotgun sling over her shoulder, then grasped the rope up high and began to climb.

She was halfway to the sinkhole when a light flashed through the mist from the passage below.

She heard breathing, the scattering of loose pebbles, the scuff of shoe leather against hard clay. She held tight, afraid to breathe as the coarse rope bit into her hands and her grip slid. She reached for a better hold. A shower of dirt and pebbles fell noisily across the floor below her.

The light below lit up the mist once again.

She dropped to the cave floor and swung the shotgun from her shoulder, disengaging the safety.

The footsteps neared. The light grew brighter.

She scooted behind a stalagmite as the footsteps quickened. She pressed against the wet stalagmite.

The footsteps stopped. Sable remembered the rope, hanging down through the mist. The beam from a flashlight stopped on it, and then slowly circled the upper cavern.

She held her breath. If she stayed put, she might be shielded by the fog, and it was just possible the stalker would pass by.

She waited as the steps drew nearer. Light penetrated the white mist with an eerie glow, once more illuminating the vein. Sable got a good, close look at it, like a black wire twisting through the rock around it.

Silver turns black when exposed to air….

The footsteps drew closer. She tightened her grip on the shotgun, raised it.

For a moment she was hidden by the glare of the mist. But Simmons stepped around the stalagmite.

He was barely three feet from the barrel of the shotgun. His eyes widened. She pressed her finger against the trigger.

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