before she dropped to the bottom. But that split second allowed her to brace for impact. She tucked and rolled.
Hot pain shot across her left shoulder as she lay still for a moment. Then she gingerly moved her arms and legs. No broken bones. She pushed herself off the floor and got to her feet. No cuts or other wounds that she could determine, but she was in complete darkness save for a thin tunnel of illumination that shone down through the fractured boards. The light seemed to quiver as if it had a life of its own. The sensation was eerie and disorienting. Addie reached out with one hand and made contact with the wall as she tilted her head to that shimmering light.
“Addie?”
Her eyes fluttered closed before she braced herself yet again. That voice. How many times had she dreamed of it in her ear, imagined his husky whisper in the dark? She shivered now as her name echoed off the walls like a taunt.
“Adaline, can you hear me?”
She peered up into the freaky light. “I can hear you.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. No broken bones or cuts. Where am I?”
“I think you’ve fallen into an old well or cistern. The porch must have been built over it. Are you in water?”
She shivered again at the echo-like quality of his voice. “No, but the walls are damp. And it smells pretty bad down here. I wonder how far I fell. It looks a long way up there.”
“Hard to say. Fifteen, twenty feet maybe. You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.”
“I grabbed on to a rope. Do you see it?”
“It looks badly frayed. I’m not sure it’s strong enough to haul you up.”
“Go find Matt. Matt Lepear. He’s my partner. He drove his truck out here today. He usually keeps a chain in the back for when he goes off-roading. Someone always gets stuck.”
“I’ll find him and we’ll get you out of there. Just hang tight until I get back.”
“Ethan?”
His face appeared back over the opening.
“Someone left a flashlight on the porch railing. I saw it a minute ago. Can you toss it down to me? It’s pitch-black and I think I hear rats.”
“I see it. I’ll tie it off and lower it down. Stand back in case the rope breaks.”
She stepped out of the light, allowing the darkness to swallow her. Furtive claws scratched nearby, and she could have sworn something scurried across her feet, but she hoped the sensation wasn’t real. She hoped her imagination was getting the better of her because the notion of rats closing in on her—
Ethan cut into her thoughts. “I’m lowering the light down now.”
He turned on the bulb so that Addie could track the beam. As the rope spun, the light bounced off the walls, casting giant shadows down into the well. Addie reached eagerly for the flashlight, slipping it free of the knot and then wrapping her fingers tightly around the thick rubber housing.
“I’ve got it,” she said. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I’ll be right back.”
“Ethan?”
“Yes?”
She ran the light up and down the walls and then over the floor, exploring debris that had been abandoned for decades.
“What is it?” he called down to her.
“There’s a lot of trash in here.” Her voice quivered in spite of her best efforts. “Old blankets. Broken dishes. I think this is where he kept them.”
Ethan said something, but she didn’t hear his response. She was too caught up in the horror of that place. Too distracted by the image of that wheelchair shoved up under the porch railing. How many times had Gainey rolled across the floorboards, aroused by his memories as he reveled in his secrets?
Addie angled the beam along the crevice where floor met wall. She imagined someone cowering there, but the beady eyes that glinted back at her weren’t human.
Repelled by the light, the rat scuttled back to its hidey-hole, leaving Addie alone with the echo of long-dead screams.
* * *
ADDIE STOOD WITH her face to the sun, basking in the light as she brushed dust from her hair. Even covered in dirt and grime, she looked good. Ethan was glad for his sunglasses so he could pretend not to stare.
He and some of the officers had easily hauled her up from the well, and she seemed no worse for the wear. But she hadn’t lingered, even when her partner had insisted on going down to have a look for himself. Addie had watched for a moment and then, with a shudder, turned and disappeared. Ethan had followed her out into the sun. After the creepy confines of that house, he welcomed the heat, even the trickle of sweat he could feel between his shoulder blades.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I just needed some air. Being down in that well and knowing what he used it for...knowing what he did to all those people...it got to me for a minute.”
Ethan nodded. “It gets to all of us now and then, but that’s a good thing. You don’t ever want to feel numb to what one human being can do to another. You never want to lose your ability to be shocked.”
If she thought that sentiment strange coming from him—the son of a profiler who had gone to the dark side—she didn’t say so. “You see this sort of thing more than I do. How do you cope?”
“I’d be lying if I said I leave it at the office. But I try to find productive ways to fill up my spare time. I run. I listen to music and read books. Sometimes I visit museums and art galleries just to remind myself that human beings are also capable of creating great beauty.”
“That sounds amazingly well adjusted. Right now, I just want a good, stiff drink.” She wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans as if trying to cleanse herself of the images.
Ethan found himself checking out her fingers to make sure she hadn’t gotten married or engaged since last he’d heard. No diamonds that he could discern, but the sun bouncing off the detective shield she’d clipped to her waist was blinding.
“Congratulations, by the way.”
She gave him a suspicious look. “For what?”
He nodded toward her badge. “You made detective in record time, I see.”
Her eyes flashed. “I didn’t set any records. And there were plenty of times when I never thought I’d make it. This shield didn’t just fall into my lap. I worked hard for it.”
He’d obviously hit a nerve. Like him, she’d probably battled whispers of nepotism for most of her career. “I never thought otherwise,” he said. “My congratulations were sincere.”
“Thank you.” She glanced away for a moment as if trying to puzzle something
