Kitabı oku: «A Colby Christmas», sayfa 2

Phone in hand, she strode determinedly toward the end of the corridor, where the emergency exit provided handy access for the head of the agency.

She twisted the knob and pushed but the door didn’t budge. Wait a minute. She stepped back and surveyed the door. This wasn’t right. It was an emergency exit. Emergency exits weren’t ever supposed to be locked.

Jiggling the knob again she had to admit defeat. It was definitely locked.

A spurt of mild panic surged in her chest.

Okay. Stay calm. There had to be an explanation for this. She looked at the ring of keys she’d shoved onto her wrist. She was the keeper of the keys. There had to be a key on here for this door as well, though she didn’t actually recall having been told about one. More than two years had passed since her initial training. Maybe she’d forgotten.

Using trial and error, she tried one key after the other to see if one opened the door. Wouldn’t you know it, the final key she attempted did the trick.

Thank God.

This was totally weird.

She stepped into the stairwell, let the door close behind her with a distinct click. Like most people she preferred the elevators so she’d only been in the stairwell once or twice. Both times for a fire drill.

Even with the emergency lights the gloom gave her the shivers. Layers of beige paint on the walls, railing and stairs didn’t help. No windows. She shivered. Damned creepy at this time of night.

This whole power outage thing had spooked her unreasonably. She left the office after dark most of the winter. What was the problem here? She shook off the lingering feelings of foreboding. All she had to do was go downstairs and locate Joseph or the other guard. Service to the phone on the security desk may have been disrupted with the power outage.

Grasping the rail to steady herself, she moved down the stairs. No need to get in a hurry. Now would not be a good time to fall and break something. She might not be discovered until morning. Ian Michaels and several of the other investigators all took the stairs on a regular basis.

Third floor. She wondered vaguely as she passed if that door was locked as well. That part still puzzled her. What good was an emergency exit if it were locked?

Other than the tap of her boot heels, the stairwell was eerily quiet. But then it would be. Every single soul who worked on the premises other than she and the two security guards had likely gone home already.

She was never in that big of a hurry to leave work. It was just her and her tiny apartment. No one waited for her, not even a dog or cat. She’d thought about getting one but then she’d worry that if she had to stay late at the office the animal would be alone too much. Her evenings usually consisted of going home, heating up a frozen dinner in the microwave and then getting lost in a movie. Horror, action, comedies, she liked them all. Once in a while her neighbor invited her out to dinner, but they really didn’t have that much in common.

And dating. Well that was a joke. The closest thing she’d had to a date recently was when the guy at the video store had asked her to hang around to have coffee with him on his break. That hadn’t lasted beyond his fifteen-minute break.

Second floor. Still quiet as a tomb.

Not that she was feeling sorry for herself. She liked her life just as it was. No dramatics, no extra pressure. Just plenty of time to enjoy being who she was.

One of the new guys hired in last spring’s job fair had flirted with her at first. Todd Thompson. But he’d ended up marrying his first assignment. Most of the other investigators considered her their little sister or something. They sure didn’t look at her with an eye toward dating.

Definitely not.

It wasn’t that she was hideous to look at or anything like that. She was thin, without really trying. She actually looked younger than her twenty-six years. She wouldn’t likely be winning any beauty contests, but she had a nice face. Big brown eyes. That was the part about herself she liked best. Not that she dwelled on how she looked. She didn’t. She didn’t waste money on designer clothes, either. She shopped at the more reasonably priced discount stores, which ensured she had a healthy savings.

Maybe she’d take an exotic vacation one of these days.

Maui, Cancun, someplace warm with sandy beaches.

When she reached the door that would open into the wide corridor that led into the first-floor main lobby she found it locked as well.

This was too weird. First thing Monday morning she would call maintenance and have this situation looked into. If that didn’t take care of the problem she would call the fire marshal. What if she hadn’t had the keys and there had been a fire?

The building could go up in flames and she wouldn’t be able to get out. Definitely against the rules. Someone would be in serious trouble.

She shuddered as she twisted the key in the lock. A person never thought of things like that until they were thrust into the situation.

Beige décor gave way to marbled floors and soaring ceilings as she followed the short corridor that spilled into the main lobby. The ambience was every bit as posh as one would expect in a building with such elite tenants.

The lighting wasn’t much better down here. The higher ceilings and towering glass front entry provided some additional illumination from the city lights.

Her heels clicked on the marble as she crossed the massive space. Even down here it was graveyard silent.

Bizarre.

The security desk was unmanned.

No sign of the musicians for tomorrow’s entertainment. Or their cases of equipment.

Maybe Joseph had escorted the gentlemen to the freight elevator already. But where was the other guard? And, considering they couldn’t board the elevator, why hadn’t Joseph returned? Then again, maybe the musicians were stuck on the elevator and Joseph was trying to help.

Still, leaving the security desk unmanned was completely unprofessional. Victoria would be extremely disappointed that security turned so lax after hours.

Admittedly Elaine had never stayed quite this late, but she’d never known security to just disappear.

Something had to be wrong.

Calling 911 might be overreacting but she wasn’t about to pretend any longer that things were as they should be. She’d run out of excuses.

Elaine moved around to the back of the security desk. Her foot caught on the same object her gaze had landed on the instant she rounded the corner of the desk, only her brain hadn’t accepted the analysis just yet.

Joseph.

A scream rushed into her throat but fear had clamped shut the muscles in her neck.

Her body trembling, she lowered into a crouch and touched him. A dark stain had spread out from a small hole in the center of his chest. The navy color of the uniform distorted the color but she knew it was blood.

He’d been shot.

A surge of air rushed into her lungs, forcing her heart to race. Some part of her screamed at her to cry out for help, but some other part, a deeply entrenched instinct she hadn’t known existed until now, kept her silent.

Her fingers shaking, she touched his neck. No pulse. His skin was too cool. Was his heart still beating? No heartbeat.

She got into position for CPR, except she couldn’t feel any breath on her cheek. No rise and fall of his chest.

Tilting his head back, she opened his mouth, ensured the airway was unobstructed and forced air into his mouth. Something was wrong. The lungs didn’t expand…chest didn’t rise. She tried again. Nothing.

Oh, God.

She moved into position over his chest and attempted compressions. She worked until her arms were so weak she couldn’t press anymore.

He was dead.

She had to call for help. She should have done that first. But she’d panicked.

Her phone. Where was her cell?

She’d had it in her hand.

She must have dropped it when she found Joseph.

But where was it?

Pressing her cheek to the floor she peered under the security desk. There it was. She couldn’t reach it, needed something to reach under there and drag it out.

Maybe the phones down here worked.

She scrambled to her feet, almost tripping over Joseph’s body. Grabbing the phone, she pushed a button for an outside line but got no dial tone. She stabbed another one. Nothing.

Fear roared through her.

What the hell was wrong with the phone?

She poked buttons until she’d tried every line available. Still no dial tone.

Okay. Her cell. She’d just have to get her cell from under this desk. There was no way in hell she could move it. It was huge. She needed a ruler or something else long and flat to sweep the phone from under the desk.

Just then movement on the security monitors captured her attention.

Two men. She saw two men clad completely in black, including ski masks. As she watched one opened a large trunk. Another man, dressed the same way, rose up as if rising from a coffin and climbed out. A second trunk was opened to reveal another man.

Large cases.

The musicians?

Why would they have masked men hidden in their equipment cases?

And where the hell was the other security guard?

She peered at all four of the monitors stationed on the counter. Two were designed to change channels every few seconds, providing views of different floors and corridors. No movement anywhere but there. Where was that? Then she saw it…the freight elevator.

First floor.

Terror lit in her blood.

Two of the men exited the range of the camera but returned in seconds lugging…a body.

She identified the uniform. The other security guard.

Her breath trapped in her lungs.

The men dumped the body into one of the cases. Closed and locked it.

She stared at the monitor…her ability to think frozen with absolute fear.

Wait. Where were the other two men?

No sooner had the thought formed than the man still on camera, using a key ring similar to the one on her wrist, attempted to activate the freight elevator.

No power. No elevator.

She had to call the police.

Frantic now, she dug through the drawers. Couldn’t find anything longer than an ink pen.

She glanced at the monitor. Two men waited by the freight elevator. Movement on another monitor. Two men…moving down a corridor. Marble floors.

They were coming back to the lobby.

She had to hide.

Stumbling over Joseph, she landed hard on the floor.

She scrambled to her feet. Realizing the boots would make too much noise, she frantically tugged them off.

She had to run.

Now.

There was no place to go except…she frantically searched her memory banks for any sort of hiding place.

The snack shop.

Closing her fingers around the keys that dangled from the ring on her wrist to keep them quiet, she rushed past the elevators, almost falling when her feet slipped. Damn these tights. Running as fast as she could without making any sound or busting her butt, she didn’t let herself look back. Couldn’t slow down for anything.

The shop was closed but half a dozen tables and chairs were scattered around its entrance. She crouched behind the table closest to the wall, hoping the chairs would provide sufficient camouflage. There were three other tables staggered in front of the one she’d chosen. Surely they would provide additional coverage…enough so no one would see her.

Thank God she’d worn her favorite dark brown skirt and turtleneck today, as it helped her to blend in with the dark metal legs of the table and chairs. If she were brutally honest with herself she’d probably only selected the drab colors as an act of rebellion against the reds and greens of the holiday fanatics.

Whatever the reason, she was damned glad she had. Except for the tights. Running in them was dangerous. She bit her lip. She should get rid of them now to ensure she wasn’t sorry later. Careful not to make a sound she wiggled the damned things off her hips and down her legs and stuffed them into the closest chair. She shivered as the cool air replaced the warm woolly fabric against her skin. Freezing to death was preferable over being murdered.

The two masked men moved around the security desk. They hefted Joseph’s body and started back in the direction they’d come. He’d be hidden in one of the cases just like the other guard.

Maybe once they were gone she could risk going back after her cell phone.

She held as still as possible. Listened as their footsteps faded. She hadn’t heard them approaching until they were far too close for comfort, but then they hadn’t been carrying a body.

Once the silence had lasted to the count of ten, she grabbed her boots and hugged them to her chest as she cautiously slipped from her hiding place.

Holding her breath, she tiptoed as fast as she dared back to the security desk. Avoiding the blood splatters, she dropped down onto her hands and knees and tried to shove her hand under the desk.

She couldn’t reach it.

She tried harder and felt the sting of blood where the wood skinned the top of her hand.

Dammit.

She worked until she’d threaded one of her boot legs under the desk, but it wouldn’t reach.

Frustrated, she rose up. Jammed her fingers through her hair. There had to be something around here she could use to reach that damned phone.

A hand slapped down hard over her mouth as she was jerked backward.

She struggled to get away…but it was no use.

Chapter Three

8:39 p.m.

“We have to get out of here. Now.”

Elaine couldn’t see the man’s face, but he didn’t sound as if his intention was to harm her. Still, the words whispered so harshly against her ear had her heart shuddering with terror. What was going on here?

“I’m going to turn you loose, Elaine, but you have to promise me you won’t scream.”

Elaine? Who was this guy? She twisted in an attempt to get a look at him. All she got was a glimpse of blond hair and maybe gray eyes before he tightened the arm he had banded around her, keeping her from any further movement.

“Promise?”

He was waiting for a guarantee from her before he let go. She nodded, prayed she’d be able to stick by her word. Who was this man?

“Okay. As soon as I’ve released you, we have to make a run for the stairwell. Understand?”

Why would he want to go back to the stairwell? She needed to get to her phone. Joseph…her stomach roiled. Poor Joseph was dead…so was the other guard. She wasn’t sure about the second guard, but she knew Joseph had a family. A wife and three kids.

“Do you understand?”

She nodded at his sharply whispered demand.

“All right.”

His arm loosened and his hand came away from her mouth. Before she could stop her automatic instincts she’d scrambled away from him. “Who are you?”

He held a finger to his lips before shifting his attention to the monitors on the counter. Her gaze darted there as well. Staying alive meant staying away from those men.

Joseph’s body had already been locked in one of the cases lined up next to the freight elevator. But none of the masked men were in view of the cameras. Just those big equipment cases that now served as coffins.

Fear shivered over her skin leaving goose bumps in its wake. They could be anywhere…right around the corner.

“There they are.”

Her attention focused on one of the monitors. Fourth floor. A new kind of tension whipped through her.

Two of the masked men were exiting the stairwell door into the Colby Agency.

“What’re they doing?”

She hadn’t realized she’d said the words aloud until the man next to her had changed his position so that he could look her in the eye.

“Looking for you.”

A quake started deep down in her belly. He was right. The guard had called her and asked permission for them to come up. These men knew she was in the building…on the fourth floor.

The Colby Agency had many enemies. She’d always known, had been thoroughly briefed on the potential, that this kind of situation could, theoretically, arise. There was always the chance that as a Colby Agency employee one might be targeted for revenge or coercion.

Elaine just hadn’t expected it to be her.

She didn’t know anything about cases, had never worked an investigation. Sure, she had access to most everything in the offices….

Maybe that was it.

These guys had come here under the pretense of setting up their equipment in order to accomplish their mission and somehow something had gone wrong. Either Joseph or the other guard had gotten suspicious and now the ugly truth was out. Now they were inside the Colby Agency. But why? Were they looking for files? Or was their agenda to lay in wait until the office reopened tomorrow morning?

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.

“Let’s move away from the door,” he suggested so quietly she barely heard him.

The urge to scream was almost overwhelming. People were dying and they were tiptoeing around and whispering.

She did as he said without argument, since she had no desire to give away their location. But now that they had some time to catch their breath she had a question or two for her anonymous ally.

“Who are you?”

She was pretty sure she had asked that before but there hadn’t been time for an answer.

“My name is Brad Gibson.”

A frown furrowed deep into her forehead, causing the ache she hadn’t noticed until now to take hold. Perfect. Everyone should have a headache when running from killers. She settled her attention back on the man standing between her and the long line of sinks on the wall. Brad Gibson. That name sounded vaguely familiar. She hoped like hell it wasn’t because she’d heard it on the news.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Gibson, but that doesn’t tell me a thing. Why are you in this building? Do you work here?”

She didn’t recall seeing him, but then again, she was usually the first to arrive and the last to leave on her floor. Well, besides Victoria.

It was doubtful that she wouldn’t remember seeing this guy though. He was, she realized upon closer inspection, really cute. Tall. Blond hair that looked just right for a shampoo commercial and steady gray eyes. Nice face. The tan-and-navy striped shirt paired nicely with his khaki trousers. The brown leather loafers kept his movements noiseless. She glanced down at the boots in her hand. Great-looking and warm but worthless when it came to stealth.

“Yes. I work—did work,” he amended, “on the second floor at Welton Investments.”

Did work. “Were you fired?”

“In a manner of speaking I suppose I was fired.”

“Wait.” She set her boots on the closest surface, the diaper-changing table provided for the convenience of the building’s clients. She didn’t know why she’d bothered hanging on to them after she’d shed her tights. Maybe because they cost half a paycheck and she wasn’t generally the type to splurge. But in a city like Chicago, good boots were a firm investment. “You were fired and you’re still in the building after hours?” Her gaze narrowed. Maybe this whole thing was about him somehow. But then why would those men have made the bogus appointment to set up equipment in the Colby Agency? Why would they be on the fourth floor at that very minute? And why the hell would they have killed two guards?

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he assured her.

She wasn’t so sure about that but she’d give him the benefit of the doubt since he didn’t appear inclined to harm her in any way. If she were totally honest he’d probably saved her life once already.

“Meaning,” she prompted.

“It’s a long story, Miss Younger. I’m sure you’d find it boring.” He shoved that thick hair back from his forehead and massaged his temples with his thumb and middle finger as if he had a headache of his own. “Our priority right now needs to be about getting out of here alive.”

Alive. She swallowed back a lump of uncertainty. He was right. These guys weren’t kidding around.

“Why is the power off in this building? The rest of the city seems to be fine.”

“Our visitors did that.” He tugged at his collar as if he were accustomed to adjusting a tie. “I guess they weren’t expecting the back-up safety defense system.”

“What back-up…whatever you said?”

“When they shut off the power, every internal door in the building equipped with a lock went into lockdown mode. Computers, phones, nothing can be accessed. The exit doors become unbreachable from the standpoint of attempting to pick the lock. It would take a small bulldozer to get one of those doors open now. There’s no way anyone’s leaving this building without a major effort and without tripping the alarm.”

“Maybe we should trip the alarm.”

“There’s only two ways to do that.” His gaze leveled with hers. “Break the glass in an outer wall.”

“Or?” Did he have to look so resigned to their fate?

“Start a fire.”

Damn, and she didn’t even smoke. “You carry a lighter?”

That blond head moved from side to side. “You?”

A frustrated breath puffed past her lips. “Nope.”

There had to be something they could do. Staying in this bathroom wasn’t exactly a prime safe zone. It would only be a matter of time before the bad guys searched every damned room in the building looking for her. They might not know about Mr. Gibson, but they knew she was here. Those bastards might not be able to leave the building, but they had keys to every single interior door.

Then again, she thought as she glanced down at her right wrist, so did she.

“We can’t stay in here.” As safe as it felt right now, she knew that wouldn’t last.

“We have to find a place to hide until—”

That he abruptly stopped sent a chill clattering along her spine. “What?” Had he heard something she didn’t?

He set his hands on his hips and looked around the spacious restroom. “We should hide until it’s safe to come out again. Just hide and stay hidden.”

He’d just lied to her. Maybe not lied, but omitted something important. She might not be a trained investigator but she couldn’t have missed that one if she’d tried. He hadn’t even been able to look her in the eye as he’d made his statements. Statements she was pretty sure weren’t what he’d started out to say.