A Place to Hide, page 6
She moistened her lips. “I took a hammer from the drawer in the kitchen where we kept miscellaneous items.” She shrugged. “We all have one of those drawers.” She thought of the one by the back door in this very kitchen. “I unlocked the basement door.” She frowned, considered that the locked door needed additional explanation. “The door to the basement was in the hall, and Adam had insisted on keeping it locked. Since the stairs led right up to the door, I figured he didn’t want a guest—not that we actually had people over—to think they were walking into a bathroom and fall down the stairs. It made sense to me at the time.”
Rob nodded. “I can see that.”
She tried to smile, couldn’t. “I turned on the hall light and started down the stairs. The banging was so much louder down there.” She recalled how her heart had started to pound in time with the banging. Fear had pumped through her veins.
“I told myself that maybe there was an animal trapped down there...but even then I had started to realize something was very, very wrong.” When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she flipped the switch turning on the overhead fixture. “When I turned on the light the banging stopped. Almost like whatever it was knew someone was there and was afraid of who it might be.”
The quaking started deep inside her as if she were there now, standing in the middle of that basement with the knowledge that something was terribly wrong welling inside her. It had been the strongest, most crushing sensation—a knowing that whatever came next was going to change everything.
“The cradle in the center of the room, amid his tools, stole my attention for a moment.” Pride and happiness had swelled inside her. So that was his surprise. A cradle for the baby. She hadn’t known. “For just a moment I was so happy.” The ache in her chest was fierce, as if the memory were only yesterday. “Then the banging started again. This time there was grunting...some sort of muffled sound.”
Grace had moved to the wall where the sound appeared to be coming from. The banging was so loud there it had made her jump.
“At that point, I think I was in a sort of shock. I said, ‘Hello? Is someone there?’”
The grunting and nonverbal sounds clearly coming from a person had become so loud that she stumbled back.
Someone was on the other side of that wall.
She had stared at the narrow basement window on each side of the room. The windows were up high near the ceiling and very small. She had closed her eyes a moment and mentally calculated where this first set—in the foundation, one on each side of the house—were located. She had realized then that the wall she stared at was about the center of the house. There could be more basement space beyond it.
“I knew I had to get beyond that wall...because someone was there. I pulled and tugged at the shelving units lining the wall. Things fell off the shelves but I ignored them. I couldn’t stop. I had to know...to fix whatever this was.” Her pulse bumped into a faster rhythm.
Behind the unit crowded with the most items was a frameless door painted the same color as the wall so that it almost blended in.
“I almost didn’t see the door. I remember reaching out...my fingers wrapping around the handle.” She made a face. “Even the handle was painted like the wall. I kept thinking how strange it was.”
But the door was locked.
“I turned the handle again, and the sounds on the other side grew more frantic. No matter how I tugged and twisted on the handle, it wouldn’t open. I said out loud that I was going to find the key. I searched and searched for a key. Every drawer. Every shelf. The whole time questions were pounding in my brain. Why was someone locked in some sort of room in our basement? What if it was some bad person? Should I call the police?”
She clasped her hands together, pressed them to her lips for a moment before she could go on. “I couldn’t find the key. I wrapped my arms protectively around my belly, thinking how I had to be careful because of the baby and wondering what I should do.”
If she called the police...
Foolishly, the idea of her husband being taken away had torn at her heart. She had tried to rationalize the situation. If someone was locked in the basement, Adam must have some sort of compelling reason...
No, that made no sense.
“Then I took a deep breath and I knew what I had to do. I wanted to demand answers before I opened that door, but obviously whoever was locked in there couldn’t answer since he or she was gagged or something.” She shrugged. “I kept thinking that I trusted my husband completely...but this...” She braced her arms on the counter and went on. “I walked over to the door and I said that it sounded as if you’ve been gagged and you can’t speak. The answering sounds were clearly a yes, even though the word wasn’t stated. I said I would ask a question and I wanted one bang on the wall for no and two for yes. I asked if that was okay. I got one bang and then another.”
Whatever Rob was thinking, he kept his face reasonably neutral. But he watched her so closely...so intently. She could only imagine what he was thinking.
“I first asked if the person was a man. There was one bang, so this was a woman. Then I asked if she was injured. One bang and then another.” Even now, Grace’s heart pounded even harder with the memories. “Then I asked if a man had put her in there. Two bangs. Still wanting to believe my husband had to be innocent, I asked about his hair color and eye color. By the time I made myself stop, I knew beyond any doubt that Adam was responsible. It took a moment for me to gather my wits, and then I told her I was going to find a way to get her out. I looked around the basement, searching for something usable, and I spotted an axe. I grabbed it and walked back to the door. I told her to stand back.”
Grace squeezed her eyes shut at the memory of swinging that axe with all her might.
“When you got her out, did you take her to the hospital or the police?”
The sound of Rob’s voice forced her eyes open. “She didn’t give me the chance. As soon as I had untied her and removed the gag, she ran out of the house and down the street. I couldn’t run after her. I was nine months pregnant. By the time I got the car keys and tried to follow her, she was gone. Then I just started driving. I didn’t stop until I reached my father’s house in Lake Tahoe.”
From there everything had gone downhill.
By the time Grace had told Rob the rest of what had happened that day and then about what she’d learned on the internet, Diane had arrived to prepare the evening meal. He waited patiently while she and Diane chatted for a moment, then followed her to her private quarters. Mrs. Wilborn hurried back to finish her chores and Liam had fallen asleep during the movie he’d begged to watch.
“I can make some calls,” he said. “It’s possible Adam was released on bail pending other charges. We can’t be sure what actually happened until I speak to the detectives there. What we read in the press is not always completely accurate.”
“If Adam’s not here,” she said, her heart flopping helplessly behind her breastbone, “then someone he sent is here. Either way, my son is not safe. And just like that woman who ran away from my house—Alicia Holder—the police won’t be able to protect us. Believe that if you believe nothing else I’ve told you. He is the worst kind of monster. You have no idea.”
Rob nodded. “I have some idea. I followed the story.”
Grace felt confident he didn’t really understand. He was in law enforcement and had likely seen and heard bad things, but no one save someone who had survived that kind of evil could really understand. Either way, she needed his help. If she could have gotten through this alone, she would never have told him this awful truth. She remembered the locket she’d hidden under the sink... She should turn that over to him. It was evidence, after all. But somehow with all the secrets she’d kept from him already, she just couldn’t bring herself to share one more ugly piece of this nightmare. Especially since she hadn’t given it to the deputy who’d come last night. Now she just felt ridiculous for not doing so.
“I have to get my son to safety.” She braced herself for a battle. “If I simply notify the detectives on his case, then they’ll want me to stay put. I can’t take that risk.”
“What is it you want to do?”
As much as she wanted to trust this man, she wasn’t sure she should. He was a cop. He had an obligation to the badge he wore. “All I’m asking is that you let me get my son to someplace safe. If you can’t or won’t help me, I’m doing it alone. I don’t want to risk my son’s safety, so I’m begging you, please help me hide him.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. “I should say no. I mean, you could have told me this a long time ago. I could have been helping you from day one.”
She bit her lips together and prayed he wouldn’t allow pride or anger or anything else to sway him.
“But the answer is yes, I’ll help you get Liam to safety before I do anything else.”
“Thank you.” Such relief washed through her she wanted to weep.
“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t told you my conditions.”
Chapter Five
Rob wasn’t entirely confident he’d made the right decision, but more important than anything, he needed her to trust him. For that, he had to at least give her instinct to hide the benefit of the doubt. Protecting her child was top priority—for them both.
No time like the present to jump in.
“First,” he said, “I decide the place.”
“And then?” she asked, clearly skeptical.
“Then, if we agree on the first step, we move on to the next.”
She seemed surprised or unsettled that he had agreed to consider her plan. The way he saw it, there weren’t a lot of options just now. He would deal with the official side of this mess as soon as Grace and Liam were someplace safe, and he knew just the place.
“Okay.” She took a big breath. “Where do you have in mind?”
“I have a place kind of off the grid. It’s isolated and difficult to find.”
She nodded. “Sounds good. I have a bag with some extra cash and new IDs. Everything we need to...”
As if she’d realized that it sounded exactly like she planned to disappear, her voice trailed off.
“I get it.” He shrugged. “You’re prepared to run if necessary. You will gladly give up everything to keep Liam safe.”
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before meeting his gaze once more. “I would. Including my life.”
“That’s not going to happen,” he shot back. “I will not let that happen.”
She took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
His cell vibrated on his utility belt. He checked the screen. Reynolds. “I have to take this.”
“I should check on Liam.”
He gave her a nod as he accepted the call. “Hey, Reynolds, what’s up?”
“Damn, boss, we’ve got ourselves a body,” he said, his voice humming with excitement. “That’s what’s up. You should get over here to the Cashion place. This is bad. Really bad.”
A new line of tension threaded through Rob. “A homicide?”
“Definitely. This guy has been stabbed like a couple dozen times. There’s blood everywhere.”
Well, hell. “Okay, stay out of the blood. Don’t touch anything and see if we can get Snelling over there.”
“Will do.”
Sergeant David Snelling was top-notch. He led an excellent team of forensic analysts.
“I’ll be there in five.”
The Cashion place was only a couple of miles away. Rob couldn’t help thinking of the intruder who’d been sleeping in the garage at the Sells home. The Cashion home was only blocks from there. He made a call to Deputy Lyle Carter to get him over to the inn. He was close by already and would arrive in the next couple of minutes. Then he went in search of Grace. He found her talking with Diane.
To Grace he said, “There’s something I need to check on, but I’ll be right back. Deputy Carter will be here, right outside, if you need anything before I’m back. Do not go anywhere without me.”
“I’ll be here,” Grace assured him.
“Now, that sounds intriguing,” Diane said with a wink in Rob’s direction.
He only smiled and gave the two a nod. “Ladies.” On second thought, he added, “And Liam.”
Liam was too busy shoving cookies into his mouth to do anything but grin.
Rob pulled on his cap as he headed for his SUV. After Carter arrived, he gave the deputy his instructions before loading up. The drive to the Cashion home took less than five minutes.
If Snelling was not already tied up with another scene, it would take him maybe half an hour to arrive. The second cruiser on-site told Rob that Reynolds had called in Donnie Prater. The youngest and newest of the deputies assigned to this substation was already knocking on the doors of neighbors. Reynolds was rolling out the crime scene tape around the Cashions’ detached garage.
Rob pulled to the side of the street and climbed out of his vehicle. He walked to the garage, where the overhead door remained closed. The walk-through door on the side stood open. No sign of the homeowners. Danny Cashion was a lifelong Mountain resident. His wife, Tasha, was a transplant from Knoxville. The couple’s two sons were in college.
Reynolds waited for Rob to get close enough to talk in lowered voices.
“Snelling is on his way. The Cashions are in the house. I’ve interviewed them already. They were on a mini vacation for the weekend and just got back to find...this.”
“Let’s have a look.” They didn’t get homicides around here very often. Not the way they did downtown. The lack of violence and trouble overall was one of the reasons most residents had chosen the Mountain.
The family’s minivan was parked in the garage, but it was a double-car garage and a good-sized one at that, so moving around the vehicle was no problem. The victim lay on the floor in the vacant bay. Like Reynolds had said, he’d been stabbed repeatedly. Probably a dozen or more times.
“This guy must have really pissed someone off.”
“Looks that way,” Reynolds agreed. “The ME is on his way.”
“Did you find any ID?”
“That’s the really weird part,” Reynolds said as he pulled out his phone. “This guy is from California.”
A warning sounded in Rob’s brain. He instantly noted the guy’s blond hair and sightless pale blue eyes staring at the ceiling. He judged the victim to be midthirties. Oh, damn.
Reynolds showed him the image of a driver’s license on his phone. “Adam Locke. He was just released from—”
“Did you run his license?” Something cold and dark stirred in Rob’s gut. Of course he had. It was straight out of the training manual.
“I did. Got a hit ASAP. A Detective Lance Gibbons called me, like, instantly. Said he’s getting on a plane right now and that he’d be here tonight.”
As much as Rob hated that a homicide had occurred in his jurisdiction, this could potentially be a huge relief for Grace Myers. He took out his own cell and zoomed in on the victim’s face. He snapped a pic. Then he pulled a pair of gloves from his coat pocket and crouched down. He checked the victim’s finger, then an arm, to judge the path of rigor mortis. He’d been here a little while. He was in full rigor.
“Okay, as long as you have things under control here, I need to...” Rob pushed to his feet. How the hell did he explain what he had to do? “I have to finish up at the inn. As soon as you hear from Gibbons, let me know.”
Rob felt bad about leaving Reynolds with this mess, but it was only until he had Grace settled at the cabin. Then he’d be back.
“Don’t worry about me,” Reynolds assured him with possibly a little too much bravado. “I’ve got this.”
Rob had a last look at the dead guy before returning to his SUV. He struggled to drive slowly away from the new crime scene. He really wanted to believe this was a good thing. If this victim actually was Adam Locke, then Grace was free of him and the world was a safer place.
The trouble lay in who murdered him and the connection to Grace and her son.
Lookout Inn, 3:30 p.m.
GRACE TRIED TO focus on anything else for the half hour or so that Rob was gone, but she couldn’t. Her mind kept going back to the last time she’d seen Adam. He’d insisted on talking to her. He’d promised the police that if they allowed him to see her he would confess to all his victims—even the ones they didn’t know about.
Of course, he hadn’t. After the meeting he’d only laughed and said he was innocent.
Fury rushed through her when she thought of how he’d used her, how he’d treated her like another of his puppets. She supposed she should be thankful that he hadn’t killed her. In that short meeting Gibbons had pressured her into, Adam had insisted that he would never have hurt her. He’d claimed to be just as surprised by what she’d found in the basement as she was and that he’d chased her through those woods at her father’s cabin to try to warn her that she might not be safe. Everything that had come out of his mouth was a lie.
He’d promised her they would be together again someday, and until then she was to take good care of his son.
His son. Not their son.
More of that fury boiled up inside her. How the hell had he found her? What did he expect to accomplish by coming here? She was never going to allow him anywhere near Liam. No judge in this country would ever give him any sort of visitation rights—even if he did somehow manage to escape charges for all that he had done.
But he wouldn’t. She wouldn’t allow him to escape justice.
She had found that woman in the basement. Alicia Holder had said a man with blond hair and blue eyes had put her there. To Grace’s knowledge, no other prints were found beyond Adam’s. He had claimed that the perpetrator had likely used gloves. Since Alicia—as well as all his other victims—was dead, she couldn’t testify. Without the evidence in that basement room, all Gibbons had was Grace’s account of how she had found the woman.
