Oh, God. How many other women had he kept here before Alice?
“She was here.” His voice had gone rough. “She was here for fifteen years, and she was safe, andyoucame up here during the flood and took her away.”
Fifteen years.
Fifteen yearsin this basement.
Greta’s knees almost buckled.
She locked them. She had to stay standing. “I don’t know where she is, Cody. I thought she was dead and I buried her, and you’re telling me?—”
“I know it was you!” he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. His face had gone so red, the veins on the side of his neck so prominent, she expected him to burst a blood vessel. “You and that big ex-con boyfriend of yours came up here during the storm and took her!”
Greta’s brain couldn’t process it. Alice had been alive for fifteen years. Locked in this basement. And now she was gone. She’d escaped.
A wild, hysterical, unstoppable laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep in her chest. It came out as a sob at first, then a choked sound that was both crying and laughing. She pressed her hand to her mouth, but it kept coming.
“Stop it!” Cody shouted. “Stop laughing! This isn’t funny!”
But it was. It was the most horrible, beautiful, devastating thing she’d ever heard. Her sister had been alive this whole time. She’d survived. She’d gotten out. She’d escaped on her own terms.
“Where is she?” Cody demanded again, taking a step closer. “I know you’re hiding her. I know you helped her run. She couldn’t have gotten out on her own.”
Greta wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Her voice came out steadier than she expected. “She did, though. She got out on her own. You kept her locked up for half her life, and she still found a way out.” She looked around the room again, seeing it differently now. “She outsmarted you, Cody. After fifteen years, she finally beat you.”
Cody’s face twisted, and he crossed the room in three strides. His hand came up—he was going to hit her. She could see it in the way his arm cocked back, in the way his eyes went flat and dead.
She braced herself.
A crash came from upstairs, drawing his attention to the ceiling.
Something heavy moving fast. Glass shattering.
Greta’s head snapped toward the stairs as a massive, shaggy shape came barreling down and landed on the concrete with a heavy thud.
“King!”
The Leonberger looked at her, then swung toward Cody, teeth bared and dripping frothy drool.
“Get him, King!”
Cody went down hard with King’s full mouth clamped on his forearm, teeth sinking deep. He let out a high, panicked sound that bounced off the concrete walls and beat at the dog with his free hand, but King didn’t let go. He dragged Cody sideways across the floor, hackles up, growl low and continuous. And as Cody thrashed beneath the dog’s weight, his belt came within reach of her free hand. She grabbed it and yanked the keyring free.
Her hand was shaking. She fumbled with the keys, trying different ones in the lock at her wrist until one slid in and turned. The cuff popped open.
She snatched the cuff from the floor and waded into the fray.
“King. Release.”
He kept his jaw firmly clamped on Cody’s arm.
“King. Off.”
The big dog finally let go and backed up two steps. His muzzle was dark with blood. His body was still locked and ready, and his eyes hadn’t left Cody.
Cody curled around his ruined arm and made a sound that wasn’t language anymore.
Greta grabbed his other arm and snapped the cuff around his wrist with a satisfying click. Then she yanked the chain, pulling him several inches across the concrete.
