Loving Again(66)

                “Now, you, downstairs,” Matthews stuck the muzzle of the gun in her ribs.

                She opened the door, flipped on the light at the top of the steps and descended, followed by Matthews. When she got to the bottom, she indicated the drifts of packing paper, empty storage boxes and other detritus on the floor and said, “I gather you’ve been here before. But knock yourself out.”

                “You know where it is. Just show me.” He motioned her toward the rabbit warren of rooms beyond.

                Amanda didn’t know what to do next. She had no idea if there was anything like a safe there, much less where it was. The police had looked. Sam had looked. Apparently Matthews had looked, too. No one had found anything.

                She glanced around, wondering where to send him. She stored cobwebs, dust, and things she couldn’t bear to part with in the various small rooms but none of them had doors behind which to trap him nor was there anything she could see to use to disarm him.

                “I can’t really remember where it is,” she began. “It was a long time ago when Tommy told me about it.”

                He raised his hand to slap her again. She winced and his laugh was cocky-sounding, as if sure of his power over her. “You’re too young to have that bad a memory. Tell me or I’ll use this in a way you won’t like.” He leveled the gun at her. “Your boyfriend won’t be so crazy about you if that pretty face is all messed up.”

                She put her hand up as if to ward off whatever he had in mind, then pointed toward the front of the house. “Wait, now I remember, it was behind the furnace.” It was all she could think of. Maybe while he was back there, she could find a weapon, get out the back door. Something.

                “There?” he said, gesturing toward the front wall.

                She nodded.

                “Move over here where I can see you while I look.”

                Amanda did as he ordered. As soon as he had squeezed behind the furnace and was occupied inspecting the wallboard, she looked around again for something to use as a weapon. The only thing that looked likely was a rake propped against the wall with other garden tools. She began to edge her way toward it.

                Then, through the small window at ground level in the front of the house, she saw a black Mercedes pull up at the curb. Drake Vos got out and began to walk up the path to her front door. The relief that washed over her was so overwhelming her knees almost buckled. If she could get upstairs, Drake would help her keep Matthews there until they called the police.

                When Matthews was completely behind the furnace, she made a run for the steps. Once upstairs in the kitchen, she locked the door to the basement and ran to open the front door.

                “Drake, thank God. I’ve got the man who killed Eubie Kane and Robin Jordan in the basement. We have to call the police. Do you have a phone?”

                Drake pulled a gun from his jacket pocket. “This will be more useful, I think.”

                “Yes, that’ll help keep him here until they get here. But we have to call nine-one-one. I’ll go get my … ”

                “No, Amanda. You won’t.” He took her arm. “I wouldn’t want the police interrupting the job that Mr. Matthews and I have to take care of. Now, how about we join my colleague downstairs and finish this up.”





Chapter Thirteen


                Amanda stared at the second handgun pointed at her that day. “I don’t believe this. You’re involved, too?”