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Eddie chuckled. “I had no idea. My apologies as well. Let’s get you guys secure.”
He led them through a narrow hall and down a small, steep staircase in what was obviously chilled storage. Moving to the back wall, Eddie pressed a concealed button, and one of the coolers dropped back and slid behind the other. Both of the coolers involved gave the illusion of being much deeper. Eddie led them inside, pressed another button and the cooler slid back into place.
The room was surprisingly warm and had three walls made of rounded stone. It was an enormous room with an attached bath, small kitchen and fireplace. Eddie went to the fireplace and flipped a switch, turning on a gas fire.
“It keeps the place warm and cozy,” said Eddie. “The fireplace and the cooktop all join up with the kitchen’s venting system and are expelled with them. No one is going to be able to detect you’re down here. Cell coverage can be a little tricky, but I can get you one that’ll work and will trace back to no one.”
In front of the fire was a leather chesterfield couch, flanked by two richly upholstered wingback chairs. On the opposite side of the room was a large bed complete with what appeared to be a handmade quilt and then what he assumed was a goose-down duvet. There were no windows, but a well-designed lighting plan kept the gloom away. There was also a large writing desk and what looked to be an impressive array of electronics.
“Likewise, the system is hard wired into the pub’s system, and we have free wi-fi for folks so no one will notice if you need to use it.”
“It’s lovely Eddie. Thank you,” said Emery.
Eddie turned to Mason. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess you are Carson’s twin brother.”
Mason nodded. “I am. You know my brother?”
“Not as well as I would have liked. We were trying to figure out a way to make contact and bring him into the fold so-to-speak, but he bolted before we could do that. The scuttlebutt was that he got out, but then he was found.”
“Carson is safe and sound and working with the Resistance.” Mason extended his hand. “I’m Mason Payne, and I believe you’re acquainted with my mate.”
“Only in passing, but once I saw the stakeout teams, I figured she was the quarry. Terry speaks very highly of you, Emery, and sends his regards as does Steve Perry.”
Emery laughed and then explained to Mason, “Terry is a security guard at NLGP. From the beginning he let me know he could be of help. When he managed to take the security system offline, he let me know by whistling Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey and signaled that I had twenty minutes. I think I aged five years for each of those minutes.”
“Nah. You don’t look a day over ninety-five,” quipped Eddie. He looked at the blood on the sleeve of Mason’s sweatshirt. There’s a first-aid kit in the bathroom. If you like, I can call a doctor who’s friendly to our cause.”
“It’s not much more than a scratch,” Mason assured him.
“I’ll let you know if we need a doctor,” said Emery, ignoring him.
“I’ll let Colby know you’re here and safe, but you should check in with him come morning. If anything goes wrong, I’ll sound the alarm. When I leave, close and lock the entrance door behind me. The alarm will trigger a lockdown. Go behind the coolers. There’s a small trap door. Go down into the tunnel beneath it. It runs about five miles but will bring you up outside of town in one of the old church cemeteries. Someone will be there to meet you. I’ll have him whistle Don’t Stop Believin’.”
Emery and Mason both grinned. “We can’t thank you enough.”
“Think nothing of it. You’re safe here. I’ll let you know what’s what in the morning. I stocked some basic supplies. Terry insisted I get you a pod coffeemaker.”
Emery laughed out loud. It was good to hear her laugh.
“If you need anything, press the middle button. It’ll send a signal to me. I’ll get to you as soon as I can.”
“Thank you again, Eddie. I am in your debt,” said Mason.
“We both are,” amended Emery.
Eddie headed back to the exit into the cellar and pulled the door behind him. Mason followed and locked it into place.
“As bolt holes go, this one is on the luxurious side,” Mason remarked.
“It is. Why don’t you look to see what we’ve got to eat. I’m starved but I want to get that wound looked at,” she said as she walked toward the bath.
“That’s not true. You just want to get my shirt off,” he called.
“You aren’t wrong,” she called back.
Mason chuckled and headed to the fridge. Opening it, he smiled wide. Inside was one of his favorite things from the bar menu—shepherd’s pie. “How do you feel about shepherd’s pie?”
“Love it,” she said, walking out with the first aid kit. “Set the temp for the oven and stick it in. By the time I have you cleaned up, it should be ready. We can curl up on the couch to eat.”
