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The light blinked on, so bright that it illuminated the entire patch. There were three cones spaced unevenly on the road.
But that wasn’t what caught Tommy’s attention.
He looked at the dirt beneath the cones and nodded in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought. Look. They’ve been dragged. See?” Tommy used his flashlight to gesture at the lines. Tire marks split the obvious drag lines into three. The tire marks weren’t clean, though. Dirt scattered back over them. “They weren’t picked up and moved. Someone dragged the cones one way, drove through, then dragged them back into place. Someone who wasn’t strong enough to quite lift them off the ground.”
Someone like his dainty ballerina.
Hiking up his pant legs, Tommy squatted low to the ground, studying the tracks closer. He couldn’t be sure, but his gut told him that these were one-way tracks.
“She went this way. I’m sure of it.” Standing up, he pointed down the narrow pathway. “Let’s go.”
Without a word, Boone picked up the cones and tossed them easily out of the way. Once the path was clear, he joined Tommy in the car and leaned back in his seat while Tommy took the exit.
It was narrow and bumpy and Tommy was beginning to think that his gut was way off on this one when the road in front of him just… stopped. There was a path to the right, and a path to the left, but the road he had been driving on died suddenly.
He hit the brakes and parked the Jag.
The two men stared at the monstrous valley that stretched in front of the car. It was a cliff, or maybe a giant pit. Something. No rail. No sign. Just a big fucking hole.
“Come on,” Tommy said, grabbing the door handle. “Let’s check this out.”
Leaving the car running, Tommy approached the valley. Boone hovered right at his elbow. Always on guard, always on the job, he stayed within inches of his boss as if he was afraid Tommy might slip and fall.
The road gave way to packed dirt about three feet from the edge. Tommy kept going until the tip of his Louboutin Greggo flat peeked over the side. He glanced down.
Pit, he decided. And a bottomless one, too, he was sure. Reaching inside his suit jacket, he pulled out his pen. He held it high, cocked his head, let it fall. It was immediately swallowed up by the darkness below.
Boone whistled. “Holy shit. What the hell is this?”
Tommy nodded, speaking more to himself than in answer to Boone. “It’s a warning.”
With one last glance at the pit, he got back in the car, Boone making sure to follow close behind him. Once they were seated again, Tommy peered through the windshield.
He noticed that the path to the left was more overgrown with less of a sign of recent travel. The path to the right? The cobblestones appeared more rundown, more used. If Grace swerved around the giant pit, this would be the way she went.
A couple of minutes later, he was proven right.
“‘Welcome to Hamlet’,” Boone read out loud. “I’ve never heard of it. You?”
Tommy shook his head. And that, he figured, was exactly the point.
Drawing his leg back, he kicked at a rock in the road. It bounced off the wooden post, the force of the hit making the hand-made sign list a little to the left. He wanted to scream, and not just because his uncharacteristically rash impulsiveness left him in pain.
Instead, he stamped his foot, shaking off the sting; his leather shoes were expensive, but they barely protected his toes when his temper flared and he lashed out by kicking rocks.
Damn it.
Running his hand through his hair, Tommy turned his back on the sign. He took a deep breath, his suit jacket rising and falling on his shoulders. He needed to focus.
He needed Grace.
“Boss?”
Tommy lowered his hand, reaching for the tie around his neck. He adjusted the knot, tightening it until it was a perfect Pratt. Then he firmed his lips into a thin line.
Facing his bodyguard, he said, “Call Pope in. We’ll need more manpower for this one.”
Though Tommy got the sense that Boone wanted to argue, the bodyguard knew better than to try. He might be able to get away with it when Tommy was in a more rational mood. When it came to Grace Delaney, though, he was never rational.
