Solid as Steele (14 page)

“This is going to take some time,” Brady muttered.

 

M
ACK TOOK
J
AMIE'S HAND
and squeezed, hoping he could reassure her with his touch.

He was still cursing himself for getting caught as they walked through the door and into a dimly-lit basement corridor that smelled like a graveyard. What had Fried done, stuffed dead rats in the walls?

So this was what the place was like. Jamie had described the funhouse, but he hadn't gotten the complete picture until now. He could see that one side of the hallway was probably formed from the original wall of the house. The other had been constructed of plywood.

He kicked at it, testing how well built it was, and it flexed a little.

On the walls were color posters from old horror movies.
Night of the Living Dead
.
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Nightmare on Elm Street
. Gruesome, but tame compared to what Jamie had told him was in the rest of the house.

As soon as they were out of the cell, he heard the lock click behind them. No going back that way, he thought.

Suddenly slasher movie music blared from hidden speakers. Beside him, Jamie shivered and he turned to her and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.

She clung to him just as tightly.

He brought his mouth to her ear and spoke in a low voice. “I'm sorry.”

“You didn't do anything.”

“I got caught.”

“So did I.” She swallowed hard.

“But I should have been prepared for something tricky at the gas station.”

“Don't! You didn't know what to expect.”

He dragged in a breath, telling himself there was no point in focusing on what they should have done. The only important thing was what they did now.

“He thinks he's going to win, but we'll get out of this together,” he told her, hoping to hell it was true.

She nodded against his shoulder, but he wasn't sure she believed him.

She raised her face and looked at him in the dim light. “Just in case,” she said, then stopped as her voice broke.

“Steady,” he murmured.

She nodded. “I'm okay.”

He knew it had to be a lie, but he only nodded.

“Just in case we don't get out of here, I want you to know something important. I love you.”

Despite everything, happiness swelled inside him. “Oh, Jamie. I love you, too. So much. I've ached to tell you, but I was afraid to say it. Afraid that the words would send you running as fast as you could in the other direction.”

“I might have run,” she admitted. “But now I've got my head screwed on straight. Funny how looming death sorts out your priorities.”

“This isn't the end for us,” he said fiercely. “I promise.”

She closed her eyes, and he knew she was trying to block out this horrible place as she pulled his mouth down to hers for a long, passionate kiss. He clung to her, his lips moving over hers, praying that it wasn't for the last time.

“Just so you know what you have to look forward to,”
she said when they came up for air. Then she brought her mouth to his ear and spoke in a barely audible whisper.

“We've got an advantage. Remember, I've been here before. I know how this place works. I think I can avoid the worst traps. I hope,” she added.

They were still standing by the door. From within the cell, Mack heard a hissing noise. Then noxious gas began to seep around the cracks in the door, and they both began to cough.

Mack grabbed her hand, and they staggered down the hall, still coughing. They turned a corner and stopped, both of them wheezing.

“We should get out of this hallway,” he muttered.

Still clasping her hand, he led her farther away from the cell. Before they'd gotten more than ten paces, an explosion rocked the corridor.

Mack threw Jamie to the floor, coming down on top of her to protect her from the blast.

In the confined space, his ears were ringing and he braced to feel chunks of cement or cinder block raining down on his back and head. But it didn't happen.

Only smoke and dust filled the air.

“It's not real.” As she spoke, the words set off a coughing fit.

He eased off of her, and they both sat up and looked around. As the dust settled, they could see a blackened place on the floor where some kind of small explosive had detonated, creating the illusion of something worse.

“Just one of his little tricks,” she managed to choke out.

“Yeah.”

Mack leaned his head against the wall, struggling for breath, trying his damnedest not to pass out.

“I'll bet he's watching us and laughing,” she murmured, looking up, trying to spot a hidden camera.

He probably had cameras at the gas station, too, Mack thought, and he'd watched Mack fall into his trap. He wanted to fill the air with curses, but he held the words back.

Jamie started to speak again but stopped herself, and he guessed she'd thought of some information she didn't want the bastard to know.

Getting to her knees, she put her mouth to his ear. “I didn't see anything like this when I was here before.”

“He probably rotates his tricks,” he muttered.

He'd been hoping Jamie could figure out how to escape. Now he realized he'd been fooling himself.

Henry got up and paced across his lounge area, turning his head so he could keep the TV monitor in his line of vision.

The bastards were talking about something, and they didn't want him to hear them. Did that mean they realized the entire funhouse was wired for sound and not just the basement cell?

How could they know about that?

Maybe the detective had simply warned her to be cautious.

He turned off the background music and tried jacking up the volume control, but he still couldn't pick up their conversation.

He cursed loudly. He had the feeling they were planning something. That wasn't going to do them any good. They couldn't hide. They couldn't get out of the house. What did they think they could do that they were trying to keep him from knowing about?

Maybe he should end this game more quickly than he'd planned. That would eliminate any threat. But it would also eliminate a great deal of his enjoyment.

He studied the screen again, then zoomed in on the couple. The guy looked like he was in pretty bad shape. Maybe there was no need to rush, after all.

 

“I
F WE STAY HERE
, are we going to get gassed or something?” Mack muttered.

“I don't know.” Again she put her mouth to his ear. “If we can get to the next floor, we should head for the dining room. From there we can get to the front door. Then we can use one of the dining room chairs to batter through a window.”

He turned his head to reverse their positions. “Are there other exits?”

“There have to be.”

“Did you see any others?”

“No.”

“We'll find one.” He stayed where he was, leaning against the wall and gathering his strength. Another idea was forming in his mind. It might not do them a damn bit of good, but they wouldn't know until they tried.

Again he spoke in a whisper. “I'm willing to bet that Fried is somewhere in the house. He thinks we can't get to him, but maybe we can.”

“Where would he be?” Jamie asked in a low voice.

“You said the funhouse is on the first floor and in the basement, so he'd probably be on the next level.”

“I saw stairs going up from the front hall,” she recalled.

“I bet he didn't think anyone would get into the foyer, but that's where I landed in my last dream.”

“Right.”

Jamie nodded. “We should go,” she said. “Before he does something else to us.”

Mack heaved himself to his feet.

She gave him a critical look. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

She made a snorting sound. “Sure.”

Down the hallway, they came to a place where they had to go right or left. Jamie had talked about choices like this.
It could be bad either way. But they hadn't been playing Fried's game very long. He wouldn't have a fatal trap so soon in the game, would he?

Mack hoped not. As they walked slowly forward, he kept thinking about how this bastard's game must work. He was watching them now on a TV monitor, but he couldn't be watching all the time. Sooner or later he was going to come down here to get them. Then they'd be out of sight—at least for a little while. With any luck that would give them time to turn the tables and set some kind of trap for the guy.

He scrambled for information, wishing he'd paid more attention to Jamie's descriptions of the traps in here, but at first he hadn't thought it was real. And he certainly hadn't thought he'd end up in this hellhole.

 

H
UNTER HAD SWITCHED ON
the reading light and was scanning the list of houses that had been purchased or rented in the past twelve months. Jed and Max had also arrived, and they were checking out property on the east side of town.

Hunter kept scanning the list as Brady drove to the next west side location. This time when they reached the property, they found that a bulldozer had flattened the structure. Apparently someone had bought the house for the purpose of tearing it down and using the land.

Another dead end.

Brady turned the car around. “There's got to be a better way to do this.”

Hunter looked up from the list. “I've been thinking. Last summer, Kathryn and I took Ethan to Gaptown. There's a state park up here with an artificial lake. We had a fun time there, but we also went into town for some meals and to shop. There are a lot of mansions in the West End.
Apparently they're scooped up by doctors and lawyers and other people with money. Some live there all year round. Others just use them for vacation houses. He could be using one of those.”

Brady considered the theory. “But if someone bought a big mansion in an upscale neighborhood, wouldn't the neighbors pay attention to the property transfer?”

Hunter shrugged. “They might. But if it's one of those owners who's just in town off and on, the neighbors might not get to know him.” He pointed to the list. “There's a house on Washington Street that I think we should investigate.”

“Why?”

“The guy who bought it is named Mr. Hyde.”

Brady shook his head. “Could be a coincidence.”

“Or our guy thinking he's tricky.”

 

M
ACK LEANED TOWARD
J
AMIE
and spoke into her ear again. “We'd better try to get upstairs.”

She thought for a moment. “I remember there's a big room somewhere down here. It's got a flight of steps going up.”

“Okay.”

He stopped, taking a moment to test his arms and legs. He wasn't up to par, but he was feeling better than when he'd first awakened on the cold cellar floor.

Still speaking into Jamie's ear, he asked, “Do you know which way?”

She gave him a sick look. “I wish I did.”

“We'll find it together,” he said, taking her hand and starting down the corridor toward the right.

They'd walked a yard when the cement floor changed to plywood.

Thirty seconds after they'd stepped onto it, the surface began to roll and shake.

Mack's curse rang through the hallway as he looked over his shoulder.

“Too far to go back,” he muttered. “Keep going.”

The motion accelerated, tumbling them back and forth.

“Get down,” he shouted to Jamie.

She dropped to the floor and braced her hands against the rocking floor.

In the dim light, he could see that the shaking stopped a couple of yards from where they were being bounced around.

“Crawl,” he muttered as he steadied himself on hands and knees and began moving across the tipping surface. When the motion became even more violent, he feared they'd break an arm or leg.

Their progress was slow, but he finally clambered off onto solid floor, then turned to help Jamie off.

As soon as they'd cleared the plywood floor, it stopped rocking. Either Fried was watching them and had turned off the effect, or there were sensors in the floor to tell the mechanism that the weight of their bodies was now absent. He'd like to know which.

Although he was on solid ground, his head kept spinning, and he leaned against the wall, fighting nausea.

Jamie crawled toward him and laid her head against his shoulder.

“That was sure a fun ride,” she muttered.

He snorted. “Oh yeah.”

They sat for several moments until he noticed something changing. The floor had been cold. Now it was becoming uncomfortably hot.

Jamie looked at him in alarm. “What's happening?”

“Looks like we're on the hot seat. Better get moving.”

 

B
ACK IN TOWN,
B
RADY TURNED
onto Washington Street, marveling at the rows of grand old houses that had been restored to their glory days.

“These babies would be worth millions in Baltimore,” he said.

“But up here, you can probably scoop them up much cheaper. Especially since the recession hit,” Hunter answered, then pointed toward a sprawling gray Victorian with a tower at the front entrance. A high wooden fence enclosed the back yard. “That's the one.”

He spotted a man watching them from a nearby driveway and pulled to a stop. Rolling down his window, he pointed to the Victorian and said, “We were looking for property to buy up here. That place is exactly what we want. You don't know if it's for sale, do you?”

“Probably not. It changed hands recently.”

“Does the owner work at the hospital?”

“Naw. I think he's one of the carpetbaggers who come in here and pick up prime real estate. He's been in and out, fixing it up, but I don't think he actually lives there. Maybe he's going to flip it.”

“If he's going to flip it, we should talk to him.”

“He's not real friendly.”

“Have you seen the inside?”

“He hasn't invited the neighbors in.”

“Has he been here recently?”

The man thought for a moment. “He was around late last night. Then he left and came in again this morning.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Brady rolled up the window and pulled away. “That would match the time frame when he captured Jamie and Mack.”

He came to a narrow side street and took it. The street curved around in back of the row of houses, which turned
out to be built on the side of a steep hill. He stopped in back of the house next to the Victorian.

“You think that could be the funhouse?” Hunter asked.

“Well, Hyde bought it eight months ago. He's fixing the place up, which could mean either restoring the interior or making it into his private amusement park. He's got a tricky name, and his movements fit the abductions…but all that could be perfectly innocent. We sure don't have enough evidence for a home invasion.”

Brady shook his head and continued. “If it is him, he could have sensors and cameras around the house to make sure nobody's sneaking up on him. If Jamie and Mack are in there, we've got to figure out how to help them without getting them killed.”

 

M
ACK SPOKE INTO
J
AMIE'S
ear again. “I think it's time to give the tricky little bastard a big surprise.”

He stood up in the narrow corridor and braced his shoulders against the old brick basement wall of the house. Then he rammed his foot into the opposite plywood wall.

Jamie saw it waver. It wasn't as solid as it looked.

She wasn't as strong as Mack, but she also braced her shoulder against the wall and helped him kick, feeling the wall give.

They both kept kicking and bashing, and she heard a tearing sound as the structure gave way and fell forward, crashing to the floor. When it stopped reverberating, they were facing a large empty room.

“This is the room I saw in my second trip to the house,” Jamie whispered, trying not to give her excitement away. She pointed to the other side of the space. “And there are the stairs.”

“We've got to get across,” Mack said.

She thought back to what she'd seen in her dream. “When we do, something will come down and attack us,” she murmured.

“I think we've got a partial solution.” Mack bent to the plywood that he'd kicked to the floor. “We can hold this over our heads for a shield as we cross the room.”

 

U
PSTAIRS IN HIS LOUNGE,
Henry exploded in anger. He'd settled down for a satisfying game, but those bastards were wrecking his funhouse. They weren't supposed to break the place up. They were supposed to play by his rules. Run down the corridors. Try to get out. Shriek when they got caught in one of his traps.

But they weren't doing any of that now. Damn them! He'd wanted to question them before they died. Maybe he wouldn't have time for that now.

Jumping up, he ran to the bank of computers along the wall. He hadn't planned to finish them off yet, but it looked like he was going to have to do it now before things got any more out of control.

He pulled a lever, sending a spray of acid down from the ceiling of the basement room.

 

“O
H
L
ORD, WHAT'S THAT?”
Jamie gasped, coughing as she and Mack huddled under the plywood, holding it above them as they crossed the room.

“Acid,” Mack gasped out. “Hurry before the floor gets covered.”

They made it across the room and onto the stairs. Looking back, she saw pools of liquid puddling on the floor, where it sizzled, sending a caustic vapor wafting up toward them.

They were both coughing as they climbed the stairs, tears blurring Jamie's vision.

Mack kept the shield over them, tipping it to make any liquid that hit the plywood run off toward the basement floor as he and Jamie clambered up the stairs, trying to get out of the room as fast as they could.

There was a door at the top, and it wasn't locked, probably because Fried hadn't planned to use the acid. Which meant he must be getting desperate.

A desperate man might try something else swift and deadly, Mack knew. Or he might make a bad mistake.

Mack eased part way through the opening, reaching out his arms to hold the plywood for Jamie, who followed as quickly as she could. When she had tumbled into the hallway, he threw the plywood down the stairs, where it splashed onto the floor, sending up an acid spray that made them jump back.

They sat, panting, in the corridor. When noxious fumes drifted up toward them, setting off another coughing fit, Mack slammed the door.

“I never saw anything like that before,” he said.

“It means finishing us off is more important than the game.”

Leaning close to Jamie, he whispered, “Can you find the dining room?”

“Give me a minute. My eyes are stinging.” She swiped her sleeve over her face, wondering if they were going to make it out of here alive. What else did Fried have planned?

 

O
N THE FLOOR ABOVE
, Henry jumped up and down, beside himself with anger. He'd thought for sure he would get them with the deadly shower in the large basement room, but they had made it to the first floor.