AllFreeNovel
Share Us
ting it slam shut behind him. Jake rushed forward and grabbed the knob, bracing himself for the sound of a dead bolt being engaged.
It didn’t happen. Either Randall didn’t plan on being inside too long, or it never occurred to him that someone might want to follow him. Either way, Jake decided it was too good of an opportunity to miss. He couldn’t wait to see Fiona’s face when he told her.
Cautiously, Jake opened the door. Once inside, he carefully closed it, taking care to make as little sound as possible. He found himself in a well-lit staircase, with metal steps and a handrail. This seemed awfully institutionalized for a private residence, but who knew what Micheline actually used the basement for.
Basement. Who in Arizona even had a basement?
Moving down the metal stairs as quietly as possible, he wasn’t surprised to find a second door at the bottom. This was the one Fiona had gotten to as well, only to find it locked. However, judging by Randall’s attitude, Jake figured this time it wouldn’t be. Turning the handle, he found he was right.
Now came the hard part. Since he had no idea what the layout might be on the other side of that door, he couldn’t judge how exposed he’d be once he stepped through. He’d have to do some fast talking if discovered, that’s for sure.
He took a deep breath, pulled the door open and stepped inside. And found himself blinking at the bright fluorescent lighting.
At first glance, he might have thought he was inside a large animal shelter. Rows of tall cages, roughly eight by six feet, lined one wide hallway. The sharp ammoniacal tang of urine mingled with disinfectant stung his nose.
What the...?
He took a step. The first few cages were empty. But then he caught sight of the occupant in the next one and froze. A man, beaten and bloody, barely conscious, lay on the concrete floor. His clothes were ragged and filthy, stained with blood and dirt and bodily waste.
Stunned, Jake stood in front of the cell, trying to make sense of what he saw. A moan came from the next cage up, drawing his attention. The occupant there—female—peered up at him with sunken eyes, her long hair tangled and dirty, her body all bony angles, as if she’d been starved for weeks.
Beyond her, he caught sight of yet another person—prisoner? As he went to head that way, pain exploded in the back of his head, and he went down.
* * *
When Jake opened his eyes again with a pounding headache, it took a moment for him to realize where he’d ended up. He lay on a cold, cement floor and there were metal bars. A locked cell.
Hell. Micheline’s basement.
Gingerly, he felt the back of his head, unsurprised to find a large and painful lump. Obviously, Randall or someone had come up behind him and clubbed him hard enough to knock him out. And now they’d locked him up in a cell, just like all the other poor souls he’d spotted earlier.
It would be okay, he told himself. Micheline would put a stop to this. She needed him for her little scheme with the Coltons.
“Hey,” he called out, pushing himself up to his elbows and wincing at the blinding pain in his head. “Where are you? Show yourself.”
But no one—not Randall or Bart or anyone else—appeared. None of the other prisoners even responded, as if they’d grown used to hearing unanswered pleas for help.
For the first time, a small prickle of dread went through him. How often did Micheline’s hired men make their rounds? Judging by the condition of the others, not on a regular basis. Jake remembered Fiona saying something about Randall spending the night down here. That could be good or bad, depending on how one looked at it.
Fiona. He started to groan out loud, but even that small sound made his aching head throb. They’d had a disagreement. She might not be looking for him at all for hours, maybe days.
His only hope was Micheline, of all people. Even the thought made his head hurt worse.
* * *
When her walkie-talkie buzzed, Fiona gritted her teeth and considered tossing the thing into the nearest arrangement of silk flowers. Leigh again, of course. Summoning Fiona once more. Almost as if she might be testing Fiona to see how much she could take before breaking.
Obediently, Fiona trudged to Leigh’s suite. Knocked on the door, waited for Leigh to tell her to come in and then went inside.
This time, instead of waiting behind her desk, Leigh stood just a few feet from the door.
“About time you got here,” she said crossly. “I’m swamped, and I don’t have time to wait for you.”
Instead of responding that she’d come as soon as she’d been called, Fiona apologized.
“Here.” Leigh handed her a stack of leaflets. “I’ve got a job for you. There’s going to be a Gathering.”
“A what?” Juggling the papers, Fiona barely managed to keep from dropping them.
