Kate Carlisle - One Book In The Grave

“Yeah. I think it’s another dead end.”

“Then they must be up ahead somewhere,” Derek said.

Gabriel slowed down and turned off the headlights. “I’ll wait for a minute until our vision acclimates to the dark.”

Derek sat back and opened the left-side window.

The air in the car instantly chilled and I shivered, but it was more in fear than anything else. With the headlights off, we seemed more isolated up here in the dark. But I reminded myself that I was with two fierce warriors, so I shook off my nervousness and concentrated instead on the passing landscape, looking for any kind of inlet or turnoff or light somewhere in that deep, rugged woodland. But it was difficult to see anything beyond the line of trees growing so thickly along the road.

Gabriel slowed down even more to allow us to better scrutinize the interior of the woods.

“There’s a dirt road,” Derek said. “Looks like a house light a few hundred yards in.”

“I thought I saw a light flicker,” I said, “but I didn’t see a road.”

“They’re too damn well hidden,” Gabriel muttered.

“We’ll find them,” Derek vowed.

And from the determined tone of his voice, I wouldn’t want to be the person standing in the way of his goal.

Another minute later, Gabriel said, “We’re getting close to the winery.”

“I’m not sure they’ll go onto the winery grounds,” I said, taking an educated guess. “The whole area is well lit, and there’s a family who lives on the property. I think they’ll pull off into the woods.”

“Yes, I agree,” Derek said. “This is survivalist territory. They’ve got to have a place up here. They wouldn’t come up this way otherwise.”

“We’re all agreed,” Gabriel said, peering into the woods as he took another curve. “And we’re clearly at a disadvantage, because they probably know every inch of this hill and these woods.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Derek said grimly. “Nothing’s changed. If they’re out there, we’ll track them down.”

He kept repeating that vow, as if he would make it so by simply saying it. And, frankly, knowing Derek, I wouldn’t have been the least surprised to find out he had that kind of power.

So I wasn’t about to speak aloud my real worry, that we might find and rescue only Minka and not Emily. I knew the Sisters of Charity wouldn’t be pleased with me thinking that way. It wasn’t my most charitable moment, but I couldn’t help it. So I kept my mouth shut and continued searching the woods.

Gabriel brought the car to an abrupt stop.

We all stared at the heavy chain that barred the entrance to the long, winding tarmac drive leading up to Charity Mountain Winery.

“That settles that possibility,” Gabriel muttered.

I sighed. Derek squeezed my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. Bitterly, I looked at either side of the chain barrier. There was no room for a car to have gone up and around it and onto the property. So we really were at a standstill.

But not for long. In silence, Gabriel made a three-point turn around the dead end, then, keeping the headlights off, drove slowly back down the road.

With all the lights near the winery’s entrance, it took a minute for my eyes to readjust to the darkness. Gabriel stopped anywhere there was a break in the heavy growth of trees that might be wide enough to fit a car through.

Long minutes later, we rounded the curve and drove past the point where I’d seen the light flickering.

“Stop,” Derek said.

“Did you see something?” Gabriel asked.

“That light is still on in there,” Derek said. “And there’s just enough of an opening to squeeze through.”

Gabriel turned in his seat. “I’ll drop you off and find another inlet farther down the hill to hide the car, then double back on foot.”

The sound of Derek sliding the magazine into his gun made me jump. Then he murmured, “Turn off the interior light.”

“Got it.” Gabriel flicked a switch. “You’re good to go.”

“I’m going with you,” I said.

There was a pause. “You’ll do everything I tell you. No discussion.”

“Of course.”

I thought I heard him snort, but I could have been mistaken.

We both got out of the car and closed the doors as quietly as we could. Then Gabriel drove off. The moon and stars were blocked by clouds and the darkness was almost absolute.

I grabbed for Derek’s hand, then flinched when he whispered in my ear, “Stay behind me. Let’s go.”

We snuck through the line of trees and were instantly enveloped in woods. Leaves slapped at my face as we made our way toward the meager light a few hundred yards away.

Finally we reached the edge of a clearing and saw a small, rustic A-frame log house situated at the foot of a steep incline. The car with the broken taillight was nowhere in sight.

“Shall we?” Derek whispered, tugging at my hand.

“Shall we what?” I said in a hiss. What did he have in mind?

He didn’t hang back to chat about it, but edged closer to the house. Somehow, he barely made a sound, while my feet were like jackhammers as I trod over fallen leaves, twigs, and dried-out flower beds someone had once cared enough to plant.

Is he going to knock on the door? Well, why the hell not? We’d done stranger things, and maybe the A-frame owners had seen or heard something.

But Derek skirted the steps up to the front door and crept around the side, where he peered into a window, then walked on toward the back of the house. I was making too much noise so I waited for him on the side of the house, pressing myself against the wall to avoid being seen.

“Hhrrmmmmrup!”

I jolted nearly a foot! Then I stumbled back against the rough log exterior, scraping my back. It hurt, but I tried not to moan out loud since someone else out here was in worse shape than I was.

Derek dashed around and found me. “Was that you?”

“No. It sounded like someone trying to call for help.”

I scanned the woods before grasping the fact that the cry had come from inside the house. “Someone’s in there.”

Derek took the front steps in one hurtle and grabbed hold of the doorknob. I scurried after him.

“Locked,” he muttered.

“Now what?”

My question was answered as Derek stepped back a few feet, then kicked the door in. I grinned. I couldn’t help it. Even in this crazy, dangerous situation, I had to admit that Derek Stone was really something.

The door swung back and forth futilely and Derek pushed it out of the way; then we stepped cautiously inside the dimly lit front room. I looked around but didn’t see anyone. The furniture-a sofa and two chairs, various tables-was all neat and matching. The house was clean. I peeked into the kitchen. It was tidy, with a few dishes drying next to the sink. So someone had to be living here; they just didn’t appear to be around at the moment. Probably a good thing.

Derek crept toward a doorway leading to a short hall. I followed inches behind him. Peering down the shadowy hallway, I could make out four closed doors.

The first opened to a small bedroom. It was empty. So was the bathroom next to it. The third door was a closet so dark, I couldn’t see a thing inside it.

We made our way to the last door and opened it. The light on the nightstand was turned on, illuminating the room enough that I could see what I never expected to see.

In complete shock now, I could barely breathe. I clutched Derek’s arm and tried to swallow, but my throat was too dry. I could feel Derek’s arm muscles tense up, as well.

A man wearing only a pair of knit boxer shorts was lying in the middle of the bed. Splayed in four directions, his hands and feet were tied to the four bedposts of the fancy, queen-sized bed. He twisted and struggled to free himself, but to no avail. He could only grunt and moan because of the wide strip of duct tape covering his mouth. His eyes were wild with fear and desperation.