Debra Webb - A Colby Christmas

She pushed the questions and thoughts aside. Right now, at this moment, she was the only representative of the Colby Agency on the premises. There was no one else. Not Simon Ruhl or Ian Michaels or any of the other brilliant investigators.

Just her.

“We have to stop them.”

Her unidentified companion made a sound deep in his throat. “How do you propose we do that?”

He was right. How the hell could they stop these guys? The men wearing the masks were armed, were professionals so far as she could determine. She and—she glanced at the man next to her—this guy couldn’t hope to do this alone.

“Do you have a cell phone?” Hers was still under the massive desk.

He gave his head a quick shake. “Lost it.”

Well that made two of them. “Mine’s under there.” She pointed to the bottom of the security desk where it hovered just an inch or so above the floor. Why the hell did she have to have such a thin phone? If it had been just a little thicker it wouldn’t have fit under there. From the corner of her eye she saw the blood on the floor. She shuddered, this time the reaction shook her visibly.

Two men were dead.

Her new friend in this nightmare motioned for her to move. Maybe he could reach her phone. She crept back from the desk so that he could lie flat down on the floor.

“We need something to sweep it out.”

Duh. “I know, but I couldn’t find anything, and then I got interrupted.”

He scrambled back up to a kneeling position and reached for his belt buckle.

Her tension blasted to a new level. “What’re you doing?”

“Maybe I can sweep it out with this.” He wrenched the belt free of his trousers and flattened on the floor once more.

Elaine wrung her hands as she watched him thread the belt beneath the desk. If this worked they could have help on the way within minutes. Movement on the monitor hauled her attention upward.

Two of the masked men, weapons drawn, walked along a corridor.

Marble floor…

Damn. “They’re coming.”

The stranger still angling for her phone looked up at her. “What?”

“Two of those men are coming.”

Somehow he was on his feet and dragging her away from the security desk by the time she said the last word. Her mind was still attempting to analyze the way he’d gone from on the floor to on his feet like an Olympic gymnast.

Time didn’t permit them to make it all the way to the snack shop to hide. They were forced to crouch next to the row of self-service newspaper stands halfway between the security desk and the snack shop. For Elaine, curling into a ball was quite sufficient for staying out of sight. But the guy with her, his shoulders were too broad if he sat sideways and his legs too long to fold up compactly if he turned the other way. He had no choice but to flatten out against the wall next to her. If a sudden move were required he might be in serious trouble. Then again, he did appear able to move with amazing agility.

Elaine could hear the two men at the security desk. They rummaged through the drawers and doors beneath the counter, rifling things around, slamming drawers and doors. What were they looking for? Map of the building? Keys? The security guards carried a ring of keys on their belts. Most likely these criminals already had those. What else could they be trying to find? And why were the other two at the Colby Agency offices?

Holding her breath, she raised her head just far enough to peek over the tops of the newspaper stands. The two appeared to have given up on finding whatever they were looking for. One bent down, then straightened, the discarded belt in his hand.

Elaine’s breath locked in her lungs. They’d never believe the belt had been left behind by one of the guards. She wasn’t that lucky.

Familiar musical notes shattered the silence.

Elaine froze.

She knew that tune.

Her cell phone.

Damn.

It had to be nine o’clock. Her mother called her every night at nine.

One of the masked men got down on the floor and peered beneath the desk. Damn. Damn. Damn. They would know she’d been down here.

Using the same technique her still unidentified companion had started, the masked man fished out her cell phone. He waited until the music died and then he opened it. She could imagine him scrolling through her address book, checking her voice mail.

He closed her phone, dropped it on the floor and smashed it with the heel of his boot. She jerked at the violence behind the move.

The man looked up abruptly and surveyed the lobby, as if she’d telegraphed her displeasure straight to him.

Elaine ducked her head down.

She felt the man behind her stir. Clearly he’d recognized that it was her phone that had announced its presence.

If those two bad guys started in this direction…Dread churned in her belly. There was no place to hide. If they even moved they could be spotted.

Even breathing might not be a good idea so she held her breath.

The soft rasp of a rubber sole against marble vibrated across her senses.

One of the men was coming.

Fear hurdled into her chest. Her heart reacted by skipping a beat.

What could she do?

The crackle of a radio broke the tension.

A quietly muttered yes sent a new wave of terror through her. Whoever answered his radio couldn’t be more than half a dozen yards away.

More talk, too low to comprehend and fading. The man speaking was moving away.

She had to look. Just to be sure.

Blood roaring in her ears, she dared another peek above the top of the newspaper stands.

Both masked men were back at the desk, still looking for something. And then, as if God had answered her silent prayers at that precise moment, the two walked hurriedly away from the security desk. She tried to see where they went but she couldn’t be sure if they returned to the stairwell entry or turned in the other direction that led to the freight elevator.

As if he’d been watching the whole thing through her eyes, the man behind her was up and tugging her after him. How the hell did he do that?

She wanted to ask where they were going and what he planned to do but she didn’t have the nerve to risk even a word. She couldn’t be positive about how far the two killers had moved away from the lobby.

When he dragged her into the corridor—the same corridor which those two killers had taken—she balked.

“What’re you doing?” Was he trying to get them caught? No, not caught—killed.

Again he held one finger to his lips and ushered her forward.

She stared with longing at the front entry. It would be so easy to make a run for it…but those doors would be locked and any attempt to get them open would trigger an alarm. Breaking the glass would take throwing a large chair or sofa through it, she imagined. But then, the bad guys would know their location and they would come. The cops would come, too, but the roads were slippery with the snow.

He’d pushed into the ladies’ room before she’d totally given up on the idea of making a run for the nearest exit, alarm or no alarm.

He pressed his finger to her lips when she would have spoken. She couldn’t read his intent.

She leaned against the closed door and hauled in a ragged breath. They were on the first floor. A towering wall of glass made up the front wall of the lobby. Could she draw someone’s attention if she jumped around and waved out there? Would setting off the alarm be the right thing to do? Would the police arrive in time to save her before the bad guys got down to the lobby?

Probably not.

Focus, Elaine. She couldn’t go off on a tangent. She had to keep her mind on the moment…on the man currently occupying the ladies’ room with her.

He checked each stall to make sure they were alone. Then he walked with muted steps back to where she waited.