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“I’m fine.” She turned away and walked down the passage into a family room with a fireplace, a couple of old sofas, and little else. Through an open door, she found a kitchen with a sink piled high with dishes. “I’ll see if there’s anything to feed the dog.”
She had not taken three paces when she heard a noise. “Did you hear that?”
“What?”
A tiny sound froze Jenna on the spot. She tilted her head from side to side. An eerie feeling crept over her as if a ghost was reaching out of a grave to speak to her. “I thought I heard a voice—a really creepy sound like a whine maybe. Listen.”
“Maybe it’s the wind or it may be a cat. I had a Siamese who sounded like a baby crying.”
She strained her ears and the sound came again, sending goosebumps running up her arms. “It sounds like a child.”
From behind, Kane dashed back down the hallway, pushing open bedroom doors, then he turned his large frame slowly and stared at a door sealed with a wooden slat. “Oh no, not the cellar again. I am so over going into dark cellars.” His biceps bulged as he lifted the substantial piece of wood barring the door. “This is strong enough to keep out a bear.” He glanced at Jenna over one shoulder. “You don’t think he has a pet panther, do you?” His brow wrinkled. “A very hungry pet panther?”
The whine came again, throwing every horror movie to the front of Jenna’s mind. Real she could deal with; spooks not so much. She forced her mind to think rationally. “It can’t be a ghost, they move through things.”
“I didn’t think it was a ghost but some people do believe spirits get trapped in places.” Kane shrugged. “It’s more likely a big cat.”
“I think I’d prefer a ghost.” Jenna moved to the door, keeping her back to the wall. “Open the door a crack and be ready to slam it shut if it is a damn panther. I’ve heard they have a strange call.”
“Yeah, they sound like a yell or a cry. I’ll wedge my foot behind the door.”
She moved closer. “This is Sheriff Jenna Alton, is anyone down there?”
A small, quivering voice echoed from the darkness. So ghostlike, cold chills slid down Jenna’s back.
“Yes, I’m down here.”
Every hair on the back of her neck stood to attention. “Are you alone?”
“Are you really a sheriff?”
Jenna nodded at Kane to open the door a few more inches. “Yes, I’m here with Deputy Kane.”
Jenna gagged at the stink of sewage wafting up from the dark beyond and turned to Kane. No way was she entering the cellar in the dark. “Can you see a light switch anywhere?”
“Yeah, here by the door.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Be careful, Jenna, she could be his crazy old mother and is an unknown quantity.”
Jenna slid her Glock 22 from the holster. “Open the door.”
Pressing one hand over her nose, she moved onto a small landing and surveyed the cellar. It held a large double bed and a cage. Inside the cage sat a young ten- or twelve-year-old girl wearing filthy rags. Oh my God!
6
Holstering her gun, Jenna ran down the steps toward the cage. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. What’s your name?”
?
??Zoe. Zoe Channing.”
Jenna went to the girl. “You’re going to be okay.” She turned to Kane. “She’s the one in the photograph.”
“So I see.”
She shook the sturdy metal door and turned to him. “Get something to bust her out of here and bring some water.”
As Kane took off, thundering through the house, Jenna smiled at Zoe. “I’m going to get you out of here. Where do you live?”
“I live in Helena.”
