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It was risky and little help against a gun—
You don’t know if this person, whoever it is, has a weapon.
Still . . .
The beam slid into the cavern.
Nerves strung to the breaking point, she silently stepped away from her hiding space and reached up, her hands swiping the air wildly. Shit! She tried again, touched the hammer and it slipped off its nail, sliding through Nikki’s sweating palms. Her heart nearly stopped as her fingers tightened over the claw, feeling it slice her skin just before the hammer hit the ground.
But there was movement in the still air.
“What the hell?” The flashlight’s beam swung toward the stairs.
Oh, God.
Nikki, like a frightened snail, withdrew as far as she could into the dark alcove. She shifted the hammer, holding on to the smooth wood of the handle, wondering if she’d have to use it.
“Is someone there?” the woman demanded, harshly.
Nikki’s heart knocked crazily in her chest.
Her slick fingers held the hammer in a death grip.
Whoever was holding the flashlight started walking toward the stairs. “I know you’re here,” she said.
Nikki hardly dared breathe.
The beam swept closer, skating across the floor.
Slowly, Nikki raised her weapon and felt the spit dry in her mouth.
Closer.
The beam swept inches from Nikki’s feet.
Oh. Lord.
She braced herself.
“What the—?” the woman said as a rat scurried across the swath of light. It darted from its hiding spot beneath the lowest step across the muddy floor to disappear into a crevice between two stacks of boxes.
“You little shit!”
In that second, Nikki placed the voice: Jade Delacroix.
Reed’s partner.
What the hell was Delacroix doing down here?
She’s a cop; she has every right to be here. It’s you who shouldn’t be down in this godforsaken basement.
Lowering the hammer, Nikki watched from the shadows as Delacroix turned and walked back to the tomb, snapped the flashlight onto her belt, and then placed her hands on the bricks above the dark cavern. Over the drip, drip, drip of water, Delacroix whispered what sounded like a prayer.
Nikki strained to hear the words.
“I’ll find him. I swear,” Delacroix said, before making a quick sign of the cross over her chest. With that she abruptly turned, grabbed the flashlight and headed for the stairs. Once again, Nikki shrank into the shadows as the policewoman mounted the steps quickly, almost running, the floorboards creaking overhead, a door opening and closing.
A lock clicked into place.
