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
