James PATTERSON - The Big Bad Wolf

She wasn’t dead! How good was that? How amazing?

Elizabeth Connelly was lost in her own world again, and it was the best place. She was walking a perfect beach on Oahu’s north shore. She was picking up the most amazing seashells, one after the other, comparing the textures.

Then she heard shouts – ‘FBI!’ She couldn’t believe it.

The FBI was here? At the house? Her heart pounded, then nearly stopped, then pounded again, even louder.

Had they finally come to rescue her? Why else would they be here? Oh my good God!

Lizzie began to shake all over. Tears spilled down her cheeks. They had to find her and let her out now. The Wolf’s arrogance was about to burn him down!

I’m in here. I’m here! I’m right here!

The party got terribly quiet suddenly. Everyone was whispering, and it was hard to hear. But she definitely heard ‘FBI’, and that’s why they were here. ‘Drugs!’ Everyone seemed to think so.

But Lizzie prayed this wasn’t about drugs. What if they took the Wolf to jail? She would be left here. She couldn’t stop shaking.

She had to let the FBI know she was here. But how? She was always bound and gagged. They were so close… I’m in the closet! Please look in the closet!

She had imagined dozens of escape plans, but only after the Wolf opened the door and leashed her out to go to the bathroom or walk in the main part of the house. Lizzie knew there was no way to get out of the locked closet. Not tied up the way she was. She didn’t know how to signal the FBI.

Then she heard someone making a loud announcement. A male. Deep voice. Calm and in control.

‘I’m Agent Mahoney with the FBI. Everyone has to leave the main house immediately. Please assemble on the back lawns. Everyone is to leave the house now! No one leaves the grounds.’

Lizzie heard shoes scraping the hardwood floors – rapid footsteps. People were leaving, weren’t they? Then what? She’d be all alone. If they took the Wolf away… what would happen to her? There had to be something she could do to let the FBI know she was in here. What?

Someone named Atticus Stonestrom was talking loudly.

Then she heard the Wolf speak, and it chilled her. He was still in the house. Arguing with someone. She couldn’t tell who, or exactly what they were saying.

What can I do? Something! Anything!

What, what?

What haven’t I thought of before?

And then Lizzie had an idea. Actually, she’d had it before, but always dismissed it.

Because it scared the hell out of her!

‘I’m glad you’re here to see this for yourself, Atticus,’ the Wolf said to his lawyer. ‘This is such bullshit harassment. My businesses are beyond reproach. You know that better than anyone. This is highly insulting.’ He looked at me. ‘Do you know how many business associates you’ve insulted at this party?’

I was still restraining myself from his physical threat to my family, to little Alex. I didn’t want to take him down; I wanted to take him out.

‘Trust me, this isn’t harassment,’ I told the lawyer. ‘We’re here to arrest your client for kidnapping and murder.’

Sorokin rolled his eyes. ‘Are you people mad? Do you know who I am?’ he asked. Jesus, I’d heard almost the same speech the day before in Dallas.

‘As a matter of fact, I do,’ I said. ‘Your real name is Pasha Sorokin, not Ari Manning. Some people say you’re the Russian Godfather. You’re the Wolf.’

Sorokin heard me out – then he laughed a crazy laugh. ‘You are such fools. You, especially.’ He pointed at me. ‘You just don’t get it.’

Suddenly there were shouts coming from one of the other rooms on the first floor. ‘Fire!’ people were yelling.

‘C’mon, Alex!’ Mahoney said. He and I left Sorokin with three agents and ran to see what the hell was going on. How could there be a fire? Now?

Guests were rushing out of a large study off the main living room. There was a fire. It seemed to have started in the study. Mahoney and I pushed through the exiting crowd. Apparently, the fire was in a closet. Swirls of smoke came from under the door. A lot of smoke.

I didn’t hesitate. I lowered my shoulder and hit the closet door hard. I slammed into it again. The wood cracked this time. I hit it once more and the door collapsed. Thick black smoke billowed out.

I stepped up close and tried to peer inside. Then I saw something move.

Someone was in there. I could see a face.

Elizabeth Connelly was on fire!

I took a breath then lunged forward into the cloud of smoke and heat. I felt the skin on my face begin to burn. I forced myself inside the walk-in closet. Stooped down. I grabbed Elizabeth Connelly in my arms and stumbled backwards out of the closet with her. My eyes were tearing, my face felt blistered. Elizabeth’s eyes were open wide as I removed her gag. Ned Mahoney worked on the rope bindings around her arms.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered in a voice hoarse with smoke. ‘Oh, thank you,’ she gasped.

Tears ran from her eyes, smudging the soot on her cheeks. My heart thumped a wild beat as I held her hand and waited for the paramedics to come. I couldn’t believe she was alive, but it made everything worthwhile.

I only got to savor the feeling for a few seconds. Shots rang out. I ran from the den, turned the corner, and saw two agents down, but alive.

‘Bodyguard came in firing,’ the closer agent told me. ‘They ran upstairs.’

I hurried up the stairs with Ned Mahoney following close behind. Why would the Wolf go upstairs? It didn’t make sense to me. More agents joined us. We searched every room. Nothing! We couldn’t find the Wolf, or the bodyguard. Why had they run upstairs?

Mahoney and I did another full walk-through of all the rooms on the second and third floors. Fort Lauderdale police had begun to arrive and helped secure the house.

‘I don’t see how he got out of here,’ Mahoney said. We were huddled together in the second-floor hallway. Puzzled and disgusted.

‘Has to be a way out up here somewhere. Let’s look again.’

We went back down the hallway when I had a thought. I retraced our steps down the second-floor hallway, checking in several guest bedrooms as I walked. At the far end of the hall was another stairway, probably used by the help. We’d already searched it. Sealed it off at the bottom. Then it suddenly struck me. A small detail that I had overlooked.

I hurried down to the first landing. There was a casement window and a window seat there. It was just as I’d remembered. Two small cushions on the floor. I opened the latched cover of the window seat.

Ned Mahoney groaned out loud. He saw what I’d found. The escape route. The Wolf had gotten out!

‘He might still be here. Let’s see where this goes,’ I said. Then I lowered myself into the opening. There were narrow wooden stairs, a half-dozen of them. Mahoney held a flashlight on me as I climbed down.

‘It’s here, Ned,’ I called back to him. I saw how they’d made it out. A window was open. I could see water a few feet below.

‘They went into the Intercoastal,’ I called up to Mahoney. ‘They’re in the water!’

I joined the frantic search in the waterway and the rest of the neighborhood, but it was already getting dark. Mahoney and I raced up and down estate-lined narrow streets. Then we drove along nearby Las Olas Boulevard, hoping against hope that someone had spotted two men in soaking-wet clothes. But no one had seen the Wolf or his bodyguard.

I wouldn’t give up. I went back to the Isla Bahia-estates area. Something was wrong. Why hadn’t anyone spotted two men fitting that description? I wondered if they had diving gear in the cellar alcove. How thoroughly had the Wolf planned his escape? What extra precautions had he taken?