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Halfway down the hall, I pulled her to stop. On the wall sat a beautiful replica of The Night Watch by Rembrandt. In the old playhouse, the painting had been The Swing by Fragonard. No matter, if Owen had used the original schematics then I knew what lay behind it. Ripping the painting from the wall, I found a large electronics box set in the wall. Another keypad beside it.
Bong. “Oh, Drake. How lovely that you’ve come. I truly longed for this. Though, I didn’t think you’d get past my new assistant so fast. Perhaps I should have kept the other alive a bit longer. Tell me, how did I fuck up? I had to have done something wrong for you to find me.”
I grinned maliciously and glared at the nearest camera. “A receipt. You left one in a book on your desk. That and leaving that damned computer in your office, your stupid passwords, using the same codes on the keypads, I could go on. Honestly, Owen, the longer this night goes on, the more I realize I partnered with a fucking moron.”
“Yes, well, be that as it may,” Owen said, and I noticed a hint of anger in his voice. “We’ll see how things go. Hmm?”
The speakers went silent, and I punched the code in before anything else could happen. Opening the cabinet, I found a massive nest of wires. This was the junction for all the cameras in the whole house. The cameras and the hidden microphones. I tore my knife back out and hacked through everything, leaving frayed and cut wires hanging.
“What’s next?” Dahlia asked.
“The other dolls,” I said. “Before I killed her, Bri told me there are three more in the house with you.”
“We’re gonna set them loose?”
I shook my head. “They can’t be let out. They’ll bring the police right back here. Even if we burn this place like the last one, the property will be traced back to me. They’ve not been altered by the house, either.” I shook my head sadly. “They have to be killed.”
“Will Owen let us do that?”
“He’s blind now. He could lock the house down, sever access to the hidden keypads, but he’s going to be too busy. If I had to guess, he’s in the house somewhere with us. He’s scrambling to get what he needs to run. We’ve got some time, and with the cameras and microphones out, he’ll have a hard time knowing where we are. We’ve got to kill the dolls first though. All it will take is him telling them that we’re the ones keeping them hostage. He could turn them on us like attack dogs. Are you ready?”
“They’re innocent?” she asked.
I shrugged. “So was Bri.”
Dahlia’s face grew stoney, and she nodded, a grim look of determination on her face. “Fine. It’s us or them. Survival of the fittest, right?”
Running a thumb along her jaw, I grinned at her. “That’s my girl.”
Chapter 22
Dahlia
Drake leaned down and flipped over a wooden chair. In one swift movement, he brought his foot down on one of the legs. The wood snapped apart with the sound like a bone breaking. He picked up the two-foot-long piece of heavy wood, weighed it in his hand, then gave me his knife, handing it over to me. “Here, use this.” He tucked his gun back into his waistband. “I’m not using the pistol unless I have to. We’ve got Owen deaf and blind now, no reason to announce our location with gunshots.”
“Is he in the bunker outside?” I asked, feeling the warmth of his hand that still lingered on the knife handle.
Drake shook his head. “I checked. There isn’t one. He probably didn’t have time to excavate and build that. It may be on his list for later, but as of now, the only place he could be is inside here. He must have created a control room of some sort. I had a small one built into my one room back in the old playhouse.”
“Do you know where the dolls are? Did Bri tell you?”
He nodded grimly. “Said they’ve only been taken a few days ago. They’re still in their rooms. It should be easy to find them.”
“Let’s get this over with then.” I marched toward the door. My foot squelching in the bloody spot where my mother’s head had been.
Drake and I both moved like trapped animals. Two mice running through a maze, a hungry cat searching the corridors for us.
Bong. “You two little fucks,” Owen hissed through the speakers, making us jump. “I can’t see you, but I know where you’re going. Fuck it. Have at it. I even unlocked the doors. Have fun finding them now. I may, or may not have told them you two were the kidnappers but also that you killed a few of their loved ones. Just for fun, you know. I really wish I could watch, but I suppose I can use my imagination.”
“God damn it,” Drake hissed. “I knew that’s what he’d do. Come on. We need to hurry before?—”
“Ahhhhh!”
A woman, crazy eyed and nearly foaming at the mouth in maddened rage, turned the corner, rushing at us with a chair raised over her head.
“Fuck,” I shouted and dove aside just as she brought it down where I’d been standing.
“Bitch,” she snarled, as she swung at Drake. “Bastard.”
