Page 27 of Enigma
They walked up the concrete pathway to the front door, their footsteps sounding too loud in the quiet neighborhood.
Jason rang the doorbell, and they waited, listening for any sound from inside the house.
Nothing.
This time, he knocked. “Nancy? It’s Jason Stewart, Lloyd’s son. Are you home?”
Still no response.
Jason stepped back and looked around the small front porch. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small leather case that Olive hadn’t seen before.
“Is that a lock-picking kit?” Olive recognized the tools even in the dim porch light.
“Yeah.” Jason already knelt in front of the door and selected a tension wrench and pick.
She glanced around. “Is that a good idea? What if Nancy really is okay and discovers you broke into her house?”
He glanced up at her, his hands already working on the lock. “Then I’ll tell her it was a misunderstanding. My fatheris missing, Nancy’s not answering her phone, and her house is dark. I need to know if she’s in there and can’t answer, or if someone took her too.”
Olive looked around the quiet neighborhood, half-expecting to see porch lights coming on or curtains moving as neighbors noticed their activity. But the street remained dark and still.
The lock clicked open with a soft sound that seemed to echo in the stillness. Jason pocketed his tools and slowly turned the doorknob.
“Nancy?” he called softly as he pushed the door open. “It’s Jason. I’m coming in to check on you.”
The house was completely dark inside, and the air that drifted out smelled stale, like it had been closed up for hours. Jason reached for what he hoped was a light switch, and Olive stepped in behind him, her eyes trying to adjust to the deeper darkness of the interior.
That was when a shadow lunged at them from the living room.
CHAPTER 16
The shadow hit Jason hard, and he stumbled backward into Olive.
She caught a glimpse of a figure in dark clothing and a ski mask . . . just before a second attacker emerged from behind the couch.
“Get out!” Jason shouted, pushing Olive toward the door.
But a third masked figure had already moved to block their exit.
The living room erupted into chaos.
Jason threw a punch at the man closest to him, but the attacker barely staggered. Olive grabbed a ceramic lamp from an end table and swung it at the second man as he lunged toward her, the base shattering against his shoulder.
The man blocking the door rushed toward Jason, and they crashed into Nancy’s coffee table, sending books and magazines flying.
Jason rolled away just as the attacker’s fist slammed into the hardwood floor where his head had been a second earlier.
Olive ducked as the third man swung at her. The wind from his fist brushed past her ear.
She grabbed a heavy glass picture frame from the mantelpiece and threw it at his masked face.
He grunted as it made contact and shattered.
The fight was brutal and silent except for the sounds of impact, grunting, and furniture being knocked over.
Jason grabbed a wooden walking stick leaning beside Nancy’s recliner. His fingers closed around the polished handle just as one of the attackers rushed him.
Jason swung the stick in a wide arc, catching the man across the shoulder and sending him stumbling backward into the coffee table.
