“Take her phone,” I heard Nelda say. “And that key around her neck...give it to me. Quick!”
The last thing I heard was Owen’s chuckle. The last thing I felt was the ribbon sliding from my neck.
Forty-Nine
I woke up in complete darkness with no sense of where I was. Disturbing images floated through my mind. The stereogram...the keys...all those numbers. Nelda staring up at me from the bottom of the porch. The door of the cottage flying open...a struggle...a blow to my head...an explosion of stars...
As I fought my way out of the confusion, I realized I was lying on my back in a very close space. I lifted my hands reflexively and discovered a flat surface only a few inches above me.
My first panicky thought was that I had been placed in a tomb or coffin, probably somewhere in Kroll Cemetery. A scream rose to my throat as I pressed against the lid with the heels of my hands and then pounded with my fists until my knuckles grew raw. I felt sick, disoriented and on the verge of a claustrophobic meltdown.
With an effort I forced myself to lie back and slow my breathing. In...out. In...out. Don’t think about the walls closing in on you. Don’t think about the weight of a tomb pressing down on you. In...out. In...out.
Once I felt calmer, I tried to take stock of my prison. I wasn’t in total darkness as I’d first thought. I could see the silhouette of my hand when I held it in front of me and I had a sense of space when I peered straight ahead or to the side. And I could feel a draft. Which likely meant I wasn’t buried underground or enclosed in a tomb.
But that breeze carried a scent. A trace so foul that I thought at once of the odor wafting from beneath Rose’s porch.
I knew where I was then. I was under Rose’s house. Locked inside that strange fence where she’d once trapped the entity that now resided in Nelda Toombs’s body.
Terror gripped me and I lashed out, kicking and pounding the floorboards in a blind frenzy. But the rotting planks held fast, and in a flash of reason, I realized that a dislodged support could bring the whole house down upon me.
I fell back against the ground, spent and shivering. I had to get control of my fear. Panic was the enemy. I’d been in close places before, dangerous places, and I was strong. Stronger than I even realized, Nelda had said. I could get out of here. All I had to do was remain calm. Concentrate. Make my way to the side of the house and find an opening.
Breathe. In...out. In...out.
And hurry.
I had no idea if Owen Dowling had left me there for dead or if he would return to finish me off. A vague recollection niggled. An overheard conversation so hazy I couldn’t be sure it had really happened. I had been floating at the edge of consciousness. Dreaming, perhaps...
“Is she dead?”
“No, there’s a pulse.”
“You’ll have to finish her off, then.”
“Oh, God, Auntie. I’m not cut out for this.”
“Do you want your money or don’t you? And let me remind you, there are bigger stakes to consider. Once we take care of Louvenia, all of the Kroll holdings will someday be yours.”
“What about Micah? He won’t just roll over and play dead, you know.”
“Micah will never again see the light of day once Louvenia’s body is discovered. Why do you think I brought him back here? His troubled history makes him the perfect scapegoat. Now he can take the blame for Amelia’s demise, as well. Everything is falling into place, nephew. You just have to do your part.”
“All right. Give me a minute—”
“Not here! That cop could come back at any minute. Take her out to Rose’s house. There’s a crawl space underneath. She won’t be found until we’ve had time to set everything else in motion...”
As the conversation faded, I came back to my original question. Had Owen left me for dead or would he return soon to finish the job? I had no weapon with which to defend myself. I’d been stripped of my phone, and the pepper spray was still in my backpack. I felt weak and disoriented. My head throbbed miserably. My whole body ached from the beating and perhaps from being dragged through the woods and the maze. But I had to rally and get moving because my only hope was to be long gone if and when Owen returned.
Rolling to my stomach, I began easing my way over the hard ground. In such a confined space, I had no sense of direction and the discarded junk beneath the house obscured my view. All I could do was crawl toward the draft and hope that I could find the gate or another way through the barrier.
Gravel cut into my hands as I inched along. I paused to pick what I thought was a pebble from my palm, but the texture made me think of bone. I wouldn’t dwell on that. Not now. I had to keep moving. I had to keep breathing. In...out. In...out.