wretchedness.
So visceral was her response, it took her a moment to realize the vibration she felt was coming from her pocket and not her racing heart.
Debbi’s phone. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Two men.
That was all. Obviously Eric had been in too much of a hurry to type any more information. She must not have much time.
She glanced around the room. There was nowhere to hide. The computer—she didn’t dare leave it turned on. What if whoever had arrived came into this room? It seemed likely enough they would—anyone visiting the office at this hour might well be there because of Jeff’s death.
Vanessa shut down the computer, then opened the door just a crack. She peeked into the hallway but saw no one, heard no signs of life. Quickly, she darted out, hoping to reach the stairs, but at that moment, a dull boom sounded, and voices fluttered up from the foyer.
The boom was the main door opening. They were coming in the front door. She couldn’t go down the stairs, not with them coming in that way. She glanced behind her, hoping to see an exit sign, but there was nothing but the row of locked doors behind her.
She was trapped, with no escape.
“His office is upstairs.” Virgil’s voice echoed through the open stairway from below. The man who’d killed Jeff was on his way, and he wasn’t alone.
Eric sent the text the instant the headlights swept across the parking lot.
He recognized the vehicle. It was the same Land Rover from the news broadcast, the same SUV Virgil had stood in front of in Jeff Nelson’s driveway as he’d thrown all of the greater Chicago area into a manhunt for an innocent woman.
Silently, Eric crept from his car, crouching behind the Dumpster, phone in hand. The men who exited the vehicle were arguing in what he supposed were intended to be hushed tones—he couldn’t make out any clear phrases—but their anger caused their voices to carry in heated bursts.
Somebody was furious, and they were headed inside.
Oh, dear Lord, keep Vanessa safe. He almost wished he’d gone in with her—except that then she’d have no warning that the men were on their way inside. No, it was better this way. And maybe he could even get a picture of them. The more evidence they had, the better.
As the men passed under the bright beam of the security light, Eric pointed his phone’s camera in their direction. The phone’s description had touted its picture-taking capabilities—Eric had bought it to catch action shots of the high-school basketball team he coached. He’d never tested its prowess in taking pictures in low light.
He pressed the button and prayed—not just for a clear picture, but for Vanessa, who was still in the building.
The men went inside, and the door slammed closed behind them with a boom.
* * *
Vanessa darted into the ladies’ room, settling the door closed silently as angry voices echoed up the stairs. She glanced around the room, grateful to see two stall partitions instead of an open room. Deftly, she stepped into a stall, pulled the door closed behind her and stood on the seat so her feet wouldn’t be seen. It didn’t seem likely the men in the hall would enter the women’s restroom, but she was going to take every precaution she could. If they even so much as realized Jeff’s computer was still warm or suspected something might be out of place—she’d resisted the temptation to place his mug on the coaster—it wouldn’t take them long to look in the ladies’ room, not with all the other doors locked.
The voices echoed louder as the men proceeded down the hall in her direction. She tensed, waiting, while keys jingled in the hallway, and then the echoes shifted. The voices continued, the words no longer muted by the heavy bathroom door, but tinny, crisp, almost amplified.
She jolted and nearly slipped from her perch on the commode before she realized the men were not in the room with her. Their words were funneled through the ductwork to the ventilation opening above her head, Virgil’s voice sounding just as it did when it resonated through the vents in her Barrington basement.
“—ran outside the second we heard the crash. She never drove past the house—just out the backyard and straight for the highway. There’s no way she’s hiding in the neighborhood.”
“What about her sister?”
“We’ve kept surveillance on her since sundown. Dick’s guys are going to run a job. No sign of any unusual activity.”
Vanessa felt her heart freeze, then slowly start beating again. So, they knew about Alyssa. Jeff had known about Alyssa, so she wasn’t too surprised the others knew about her. Fortunately, from the sound of it, they didn’t know about Sammy. Alyssa must be keeping him out of sight, just as she’d figured she would. That much was a relief. But how long would Alyssa be able to keep him hidden, now that these men were watching her?
The conversation continued. “What about her other friends from high school? Other family connections? She had to go somewhere.” The firm voice sounded like a drill sergeant delivering a lecture.
Virgil’s voice had never sounded so wheedling, so pleading. “Maybe she’s still driving. If she left the state, kept going out of the range of the television broadcasts—”
“With two little kids and a baby? All by herself? She’d have to stop for gas. Jeff’s credit cards haven’t been used, have they?”
There was a pause, clicking of keys. Vanessa could picture them using Jeff’s automatic log-in to check his accounts. Knowing the guys he worked for, every credit card was accounted for, probably procured through them.
“Nope.” Virgil grunted. “She could use cash.”
“Maybe.” The other man’s voice sounded distantly familiar. Vanessa tried to recall where she’d heard it before. It wasn’t one of Virgil’s usual guns—no, those goons didn’t talk back or ask questions. This guy sounded as if he was bossing Virgil around. Could he be the ringleader? With a breach like this one, it made sense the head honcho would swoop in to make sure all the holes were properly plugged. “No. No, she’ll be in hiding. She’s scared, doesn’t know where to go. She’ll panic, go somewhere familiar.”
“There was that cabin.”
“Cabin?”
Vanessa felt her heart nearly stop at the word. They knew about the cabin? Surely it wasn’t the same place....
“Her grandpa’s cabin. Yeah, we found out about that when her grandpa died. She and her sister were supposed to inherit half each. The sister had her declared legally dead and sold the cabin.”
“So the sister sold the cabin—” the bossy voice protested.
“But Madison doesn’t know they sold the cabin.”
“She doesn’t?”
“How would she? Jeff didn’t let her know anything.”
Slowly,
