Page 60 of 4th Silence
It must be Elena, the housekeeper.
“I saw you running,” she continues. “Is everything all right?”
No. Not all right. Not at all.
The distinct sound of a key sliding into the lock scrapes against my nerves, and my pulse slams.
Shit, shit, shit. In a few seconds, I’ll be face to face with the woman. I whip around, spot a door just off the kitchen.
The tunnel.
Alex told us about it connecting the cottage to the panic room under the main house. With no plan fully formed, I bolt for the door.
At the very least, maybe there’s a lock and I can keep the woman out, while I decide my next move.
Charlie is going to kill me.
I swing the door open, revealing a small landing and a staircase. There’s a light switch on the wall, but I don’t dare flip it. I duck in just as the deadbolt disengages.
Glory be, there’s a lock, so I flip it and draw a long breath. Focus, Meg.
“Ms. Schock?” the woman calls again.
As if I’d respond?
Still on the top landing, I slowly turn, holding the rail with both hands as I use my feet to feel my way down each step.
Step, step, step.
At this rate, it’ll take me an hour to get to the bottom, but I can’t risk the housekeeper seeing any light under the door.
As I make my way down, my brain locks on the idea that if someone hid a murder weapon, they wouldn’t stash it in a closet where any guest could discover it.
Step, step, step.
No. They’d hide it where no one would think to look. I keep moving, slowly descending.
At the bottom, I drag my phone out and risk using the flashlight. This far down, it should be safe.
In front of me, a cement tunnel stretches out. Wise Meg begs me to go back and get out now, but who knows if the housekeeper is still up there. But I may never get this chance again.
And there’s a murderer to catch.
I take off again, jogging the thirty yards to the door at the end that stands like a looming sentry.
Every nerve ending lights up like the Fourth of July. After all, someone might be on the other side.
When opportunity knocks…
Hands shaking, I grab the lever, press it down, and push the door open.
Motion sensors kick on the lights.
I glance around the door.
Empty room with cement walls painted a soft gray. A black sofa is positioned against one wall, alongside a mahogany dining table and four chairs. On the far side, a door. I’m betting it leads into the main house’s basement.
I swing my gaze left to a bunk bed with folded cots stacked between the frame and wall. Next to that is a four-tier metal shelf stocked with canned goods, a crockpot, and a toaster oven.
