Lily left the room then returned with a bottle of cool water.“The refrigerator isn’t great, but there’s electricity and it keeps things cold enough.”
Matt handed it to Kara. She took a small sip, handed it back. “You take some.”
“Kara—”
“Matt. Stop arguing with me. Take some, give it back, save the kid.”
Now she sounded more herself.
He drank a big gulp, the cool liquid soothing his raw, aching throat. He gave back the bottle to Kara and said, “Drink it slow, but drink all of it.” He glanced at Lily. “You mentioned cameras. Where are they?”
“Outside facing the house—she knew when I left. She had to have been watching because she... did something.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I stepped off the porch to see what was around, hoping maybe I could see someone who could get help. I started back inside and when I stepped on the top step, I heard a bang and the stair collapsed. I was lucky I didn’t break my leg. She called me and said the next time I disobeyed, my punishment would be worse... and that’s when she told me about the gas canister.”
Matt had seen the broken stairs outside.
“Any other cameras?”
“In the basement, kitchen, the hall. I didn’t find one in the living room, but a couple were well hidden, so I don’t know for sure.”
“I’m not a technical person, but based on our experience in the factory, I don’t think she has the cameras on motion sensors. She needs to log in to whatever system she’s using and look at the feeds. I would say let’s disable all the cameras and then get to work, but if we miss one, she’ll see what we’re doing anyway. So let’s get your son out of the cage first, then I’ll figure out a way to get us all out of this mess.”
“If I leave, she’ll kill my husband,” Lily said. “I believe her.”
So did Matt. “Once your son is safe, I can use your phone and get help for your husband. I’ll find a way. I can go out and look for help if I need to. But doing nothing is not an option.”
“Okay,” she said quietly, then reached out to grip his hand. “Thank you, Matt.”
Sunlight filtered weakly through narrow, grimy windows high on the brick walls, casting faint beams across the partially finished basement. The air was heavy with the scent of rotting wood and musty earth. Water stains bloomed like bruises on the crumbling foundation. Under the creaky wooden stairs, the basement sloped down and the dim bare bulb above the stairs reflected off stagnant water left over from the flood or subsequent storms. Matt couldn’t see far into the darkness, but it was creepy. He heard the slow, steady,drip dripof water in the dark.
Lily must have opened two of the hopper windows, though the hot and humid outside air did little to erase the stench of mold and mildew. A sharp cleanser scent hit him as he reached the bottom step, and he wondered if Lily had tried to clean up.
A small jail cell had been built into the corner to the right of the staircase, floor to ceiling and six feet square. It had been there a long time, the rods attached to the wall with large metal screws. Lily’s son—Nathan—sat on a blanket against the wall, a book and water within easy reach. As soon as he saw them, he jumped up. He looked to be around twelve, take or leave a year, with dark hair that kept falling in front of his hazel eyes.
“Are you really an FBI agent?” he asked Matt.
“Yes,” Matt said. “Special Agent in Charge Mathias Costa. My friends call me Matt. Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”
“I’m fine. Are you going to get us out?”
“That’s my goal,” Matt said.
“She’s going to kill my dad—will you help him?”
“As soon as we get you out of here, we’ll find a way to help your dad.”
He glanced around and immediately saw two of the cameras—one in the corner of the cell, by the ceiling, and one above the bare light bulb.
Matt inspected the jail cell, shaking each of the bars, looking for any that were loose.
“I already did that,” Lily said. She stood off to the side, at the base of the stairs, her face full of concern, eyes darting back and forth from Matt to her son.
“There’s a lock here,” Matt said. Though the cell had been here for a long time, the lock was brand new—a durable Master lock, the kind you could buy at any hardware store. “I assume you looked for a key or a bolt cutter?”
“First thing I did. I couldn’t find anything.”
