“What else do they have for property?”
“From what I could gather online, among their other holdings they have about ten thousand acres of land, mostly rented to neighbors.”
Hunter gave a low whistle. “If this doesn’t pan out we should determine what they don’t rent and take a closer look.”
The muscles clenched in Jude’s belly. Not because it wasn’t a good thought, but because if this surveillance didn’t elicit any further information, then that would mean they’d wasted valuable hours finding Mia. He couldn’t let himself think about what might be happening to her in the meantime, because then this hot wall of panic would turn into an inferno. A man could be crippled in the grip of it. No good to Mia at all.
Instead he forced himself to think of her mental toughness. Her ability to face trouble head on. He needed to believe she could do that now, at least until they found her. Needed to believe that she had a bit more time.
His focus sharpened as Davis started moving toward the throng of people. At first he just looked as though he were mingling, but after several minutes it was clear that he was making slow progress toward the corner of the house. “He’s moving your way. You see him?”
“I’ve got a view of something even more interesting,” the operative said. “There’s a Davison City police car coming up the lane.”
* * * *
Escaping from their guests was like trying to extricate himself from the tentacles of an octopus, Anthony thought when he was finally able to slip around the corner of the house. He checked his Rolex. It wouldn’t do to leave Eleven alone too long. Until she realized the very serious consequences of struggling inside the chamber, he couldn’t be sure just how quickly it would fill.
Her first retraining lesson would begin when it did.
He walked toward the front of the house until he could be certain he was out of view of the guests then started across the drive toward the garage. And was shocked to see a police car making its way toward him.
His first thought was the business. They’d had break-ins before, despite a top of the line security system. There were several special items purchased for just this occasion, which might be a temptation to someone in the know. Anthony veered toward the cruiser, anxiety welling.
“Dale.” He greeted Dale Carter with a fixed smile. “Something wrong downtown?”
The investigator got out of the car. Shut the door behind him. “Nope. All looked quiet when I drove by.”
At the man’s answer Anthony felt the pressure in his lungs release a bit. It returned in the next moment at the man’s next words. “We had a missing persons report filed in town today, and your name was mentioned as a person who might know something about it.”
He didn’t have to feign astonishment. Sully was dead, his body safely locked away in the garage. And no one else knew a thing. In the next moment, indignation bloomed. Who would
dare
?
“A child?”
“No, no.” The man was visibly uncomfortable. “A woman by the name of Mia Deleon. Your name and Eldon’s came up in the report. I’m sorry, Anthony we have to check it out.”
This bite of anxiety was a new experience. Years ago the investigation into Eleven’s story had gotten nowhere near him. As far as he could tell it had collapsed under a complete lack of leads. As it should. How could mention of him come up now? “I’m afraid the name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Here’s a picture.” Dale handed him a newspaper clipping that must have been taken several years ago. “Not recent, but best I could do.”
Anthony pretended to study it. “Pretty girl.” He manufactured a grin as he handed it back. “Wish I could say I had seen her. Somehow the women I meet don’t look like that, and if Eldon’s having different luck he sure hasn’t bragged about it to me. Where was she last seen?”
There was no answering humor on Carter’s face. “Your hotel. Everyone was evacuated, but I can’t find anyone who recalled seeing her. I’m trying to track down Bruce Sullivan, one of the security team. I was told he cleared the floor her room was on. No one has seen him for several hours.”
And here was his opening. Folding his arms over his chest, Anthony lowered his voice confidentially. “I don’t know what you may have heard from the fire chief, but he reported to me directly. There was no fire at all. Smoke grenade canisters were found on every floor. I think they’re chalking it up to a very expensive prank.”
“I’d call it something more serious than that, if the false alarm was instigated to cover up a kidnapping. If you see either the woman or Bruce Sullivan, I’d appreciate a call.” Dale got in the car. Slowly backed it down the crowded drive.
Anthony watched it go, and then walked swiftly toward the garage again, a plan already forming. Sully would make a perfect patsy. Dale already suspected the man might have been the last to see Eleven. When it became clear that both Sully and the woman were gone, they’d be chasing after the guard, diverting attention from Anthony.
In death Sullivan might prove to be more useful than he’d been alive.
15
The glass had held despite the assault Mia had waged on it. The water had risen fast. So fast. It parted and closed around her, eddying around her chin. Her hair spread in the water, encircling her head like a feathery wreath. She was still now, crouched on her knees with her face pressed as close to the lid as she could manage. She wondered if she could count how many more pulses of liquid would be pumped in before even the small space devoid of it would be gone.
There had been many times in her captivity that she’d thought she would die. Especially in those first brutal weeks. Even more times later when she’d longed for death. But here, now, she could feel the imminence of her demise hovering with an almost physical tangibility.
Water lapped into her nose and she shook her head, causing the container to rock. She closed her eyes as she heard the hose feed the liquid in faster and tried to wipe her mind of everything else. But regret was one thing that refused to be dislodged.
She’d failed, miserably. She wouldn’t be part of rescuing the women she’d left behind. Nor could she assist the one in the next room escape. And she would no longer need to anguish over a possible future with Jude. She had no future now. In the end the decision had been made for her.
Jude. His name shrieked across her mind, a silent howl of desolation. For a woman who had taught herself to expect so little, he represented the ultimate overreach. It’d been paralyzing to have everything she thought she knew about herself be so easily swept aside. Crippling for a woman who’d never wanted to discover that she could long for something until it was a physical ache. He’d made her want, even when she knew how dangerous yearning was. He’d almost made her believe that there could be something more.
But she’d been right all along. Having something to lose was the worst kind of pain.
There was a slight sound. The quick stride of footsteps. Then a shadow fell over her. “Willful.” That hated voice had her skin chilling in the warm water. The next moment there was a gurgle and the drain in the corner of the container opened, greedily gulping the contents of the vessel. “See how dangerous your stubbornness can be? Obedience can save your life, Eleven. I’m going to make sure that’s a lesson you never forget.”
The level of the liquid lowered to below her chin. Her muscles slackened in involuntary relief, the bunched tension easing as her body relaxed. She hauled in a deep gulp of air. Then the drain snapped closed again. “This is what disobedience feels like.” He went to the foot of the container, grasped it in both hands and rocked it back and forth violently.
Mia had been on her knees, but they slipped out from beneath her now and she submerged under water. Her feet scrambled beneath her, tried to get purchase. She pushed against the bottom with her bound arms, attempting to arch her body out of the water. She broke the surface, sputtering and gasping. The tiny taste of oxygen was all she got before he repeated the action, the movement sending the water sloshing over her head.
The container began to fill rapidly as he swung it back and forth on the cradle. She choked and gagged, water up her nose, down her throat, and burning a path to her lungs. Mia tried to get her feet set against the glass so she could rise to a half sitting position, but the constant motion made it impossible. Each time he swung the Plexiglas box she was knocked off balance and slipped under the liquid again.
She was drowning. Panic surged. Water surrounded her, filling her sinuses. Trachea. Chest. Her lungs expanded, swelling with the need for oxygen. Then burst, as she coughed and inhaled more liquid, her body flailing as she gagged repeatedly, each time swallowing more water.
Mia wasn’t sure how long it was before she was aware the container had stilled. She was resting on the bottom of it, stomach cramping as she retched violently. The last few inches of liquid seeped slowly down the drain. The sound of the trap closing again made her stomach lurch. “No,” she croaked, too weak to push herself up. “Not again.”
“Yes again and often. Until you’ve learned complete submission.”
The sound of his voice ignited a quick and steady flare of hate. Mia felt the mist starting. The trickle from the hose streamed down the wall and began to pool around her body. “I’ll be back soon to help you again. And afterwards you can join Thirteen in boot camp for a group lesson. I’ll show you just how much I missed you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, revulsion washing through her. And wondered just how long it would take her to forget what it had ever felt like to be free.
* * * *
A band of tension was squeezing him, making it impossible to remain still. Jude crawled up beside Hunter who looked unsurprised at his presence. “Still no sign of him.”
Frustrated, Jude raised his binoculars. There’d been no point in watching guests mingling at the party. The man he was interested in was no longer present, and hadn’t been for the last twenty minutes.
“What the hell is he doing in there?” The question scraped at Jude’s nerves. “He’s got a yard full of guests and according to the showroom saleslady I talked to, this is a pretty big deal for the business.” At first he’d thought the man had meant to get in a car and leave, but Hunter had reported differently. “I need a look inside that garage.”
At that moment Davis exited a side door on the structure, carefully locking it behind him. He adjusted something on the doorjamb and then turned and strolled back toward the party, his stance jaunty. Rejoining his guests, Davis snatched a drink off a tray held by a waiter and turned to a group of people who were conversing.
“Cocky little prick,” Hunter muttered. He and Jude were lying side by side on their bellies a hundred yards out in the tall prairie grass, which, after several hours was beginning to feel like lying on a bed of needles.
Jude was studying the garage. “No windows. And no question that the doors are alarmed.” He looked at his operative. “So if we can’t get through the window or door, how do we get in?”
They answered in unison. “Through the wall.”
Twenty-five minutes later Jude was crouched behind the detached garage, with a cordless Sawzall, two twelve-inch blades and an extra battery. After fetching the purchases in town, Hunter had resumed his previous position. The vantage point would give him a view of Jude and anyone who might approach from either side of the structure. Behind Hunter were acres of tall grass riddled with wildflowers. As long as he stayed flat, he had some cover from anyone going by on the road out front. Jude would be more visible.
Wearing the gloves Hunter had bought, Jude stuffed the packaging he’d removed from the products back into the bag. He fit the blade into the saw and turned it on. The product was labeled as low noise output, but it seemed ridiculously loud to him. He turned it off again. Called Hunter. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
Relief filled Jude as he disconnected. If the operative couldn’t hear the sound of the saw, there was no chance that someone at the party could, especially with a band playing. Restarting the instrument, he cut through the exterior siding, put it aside. Then he set the saw to the drywall. Didn’t get far before striking something unforgiving. Thinking he’d hit a beam, Jude moved the blade to the left six inches and tried again with the same result.
He stopped to look at the blade. It was already bent in one place. What the hell? This time he cut away just a piece of dry wall large enough that he could use the light on his cell to peer inside it. Cement.
“I’m going to the east side.” Picking up the tools, but not the debris, Jude went to the corner of the structure and peered around it.
“What?” Hunter’s voice on the cell was apprehensive. “Why? You’re in full view of the road from there.”
“I hit concrete block. I’m going to try closer to the front.”
“Not exactly stealthy, but I’ll shift over. Try to keep both sides in view.”
Jude moved halfway down the east wall of the garage. Hunter was right. The house was set deeply back from the road, but the detached structure was far closer to it. Four hundred feet maybe. And he’d be clearly visible to any vehicle going by or to a late arriving guest. It was still light. He could only hope that anyone catching sight of him would think he was working for the owners.
He had better luck with the Sawzall at the new location and it wasn’t long before he had cut away a big enough piece of drywall. He removed it. The wall studs were set sixteen inches apart, but that gave him ample room to wiggle inside.
Turning, he reached out a hand and gripped the piece of drywall he’d cut away and pull it over the hole. The result likely wasn’t going to stand up to close scrutiny, but it was better than leaving the hole there for someone to see. Satisfied, Jude stood up and looked around.
It was a roomy area, with easily enough space for four cars. The attached garage at the house was similar in size. But there was only one vehicle in this one. A functional workbench stood on one wall with a sink tucked into the adjacent corner. Next to the sink were four floor-to-ceiling shelving units. Assorted lawn equipment hung neatly on hooks across the garage.
“Tell me what you see.”
Jude gave a grim smile. It was always far worse being the guy on the outside. The not knowing was nerve-wracking. “Not much. Just a garage with a piece of shit vehicle in it.” He started toward the car. “Why would the Davises have a piece of shit car?”
“For slumming? Is it locked?”
Jude was in the process of discovering that for himself. “Nope.” He leaned in the passenger door he’d opened and checked the glove box. Found the registration. “Bruce Sullivan. See what you can find out about him.” He shut the glove box. Backed out of the vehicle and straightened to look around. There was a large garbage bag, the kind that lined big trash bins, lying on the floor about six feet from the car’s back bumper. Jude looked into it. Empty. He looked back at the car, swamped by a feeling of foreboding. “You got anything for me yet?”
“He’s on some social media sites. Here. I’m going to send you a pic from his LinkedIn page.” The man broke off for a moment. “Jude, it lists him as working security at the Davison.”
A moment later he was looking at the photo Hunter had sent him. He swore an oath. “This is one of the guys that jumped me the other day.” Adrenaline, mingled with a singular dread, was pumping through him. “He snatched her. And then he brought her directly to Davis.”
“That’s enough then. Let’s get the cops in here.”
“It’s enough for me. Maybe not for a warrant. The Davis family has a lot of influence.” And it wasn’t enough for Mia. Anxiously he scanned the interior again. Where the hell had Davis taken her? “Give me more time.” Mia had said there were stairs where she’d been kept, he recalled and checked the walls carefully for any sign of a concealed passageway. That could be the answer. Perhaps she was even now being held below this structure with the other victims. But if that were the case, there would still need to be a staircase to access the basement.
Jude looked around the interior with new interest. “What would you guess were the dimensions of this structure?”
“Fifty by fifty, maybe.”
Almost square. Jude walked the area, making a mental estimation. “I wouldn’t guess the inside as more than fifty by forty.” The cement he’d hit on the back wall. The connection finally hit him. “He’s got a hidden room.” One that ran the width of the building and perhaps housed a stairwell that would take him to Mia.
He went to the back wall and began to examine it inch by inch. Then looked at the shelving. Reaching out a hand, he gave one of the shelves a tug. It held fast. Bolted to the wall. He started shoving items aside to better inspect the sheetrock. And finally found the switch cleverly concealed nearly behind the side of the metal shelf closest to the sink. When he pushed it the expanse of sheetrock and shelving swung open. “I’m going in,” he said to Hunter. “I’ll keep you posted.” He tucked the phone away in his jeans pocket and stepped inside the shadowy interior.
Dim recessed lighting punctuated the ceiling. Jude had expected to find himself at the top of a staircase. Instead he walked through the passageway into an image from hell. “Mia!” She was lying still, so still in a large glass case that almost looked like a coffin. Water was dribbling into it. The liquid swirled beneath her, around her, high enough to reach her elegant cheekbones. When he rushed to her side she turned her face to look at him, eyes wide and frightened, and the tidal wave of relief was nearly debilitating. She was alive.
“What the hell?”
He ran his hands over the clear box she was in. Saw the latches attaching the top to the body of the vessel.
“There are locks on the lid.”
“I see them.” His fingers felt fat and clumsy as he undid each one, but he couldn’t remove it without dealing with the hose attaching to the lid. Rounding the case, he shut off the faucet mounted on the wall. Then went back to unscrew the hose from the top. The lid was surprisingly heavy. As he lifted it off, Mia lurched upward, water streaming from her hair. She half leaped into his arms as he reached for her. “Oh, God, baby.” He held her tight, the feel of her an exquisite pleasure he’d feared he’d never experience again. His shirt was saturated from holding her soaked body, but it didn’t account for the moisture in his eyes. “What the hell did he do to you?” He reared back, took her face in his hands, anxiety riding him. “What is that thing?”
She shuddered against him and burrowed more closely in his arms. “A chamber he had made to teach me obedience. It fills up…” She swallowed hard. “It’s like drowning. I thought I was dying. Then he emptied it but he’s coming back to do it again. We have to get out of here…”
Spying a towel in the corner he led her over to it, bent to snatch it up. He wrapped it around her and tried to beat back the rage that threatened to engulf him. Drowning. The strange box in the corner took on a newly sinister appearance. And if Jude had his way, Davis would be the next one to feel its effects.