Page 47 of On the Chase
Otto sat in the chair at the head of the table, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Should we bring Shankle in on this?”
“Who’s Shankle?” Grace asked.
“He’s the FBI guy heading up this thing with Truman,” Hugh said, leaning back in his seat. Stretching his arms out at his sides, he dropped one over the back of Grace’s chair. She stared at him, still trying to wrap her brain around the fact that he’d just casually called having a hit put out on him a “thing.” “That’d be a good idea. I know there’s a federal investigation of Jovanovic.”
The front door slammed open, and everyone jumped out of their seats. Hugh yanked Grace behind him, and she saw his hand reach for his hip, the spot where a gun would be if he’d been in uniform. She peeked around his arm to see the four kids and Theo’s dog, Viggy, piling into the kitchen. Her first instinct was to relax, but then she saw their scared faces.
“What happened?” Theo demanded. Grace noticed that he’d stepped between the entrance and Jules.
Sam yanked the door shut behind them and turned the dead bolt. “Th-th-th…s-someone w-w-was w-watching us.”
“Where?” Hugh asked.
“On the ridge,” Tio answered. “Just north of that single, crooked tree.” He and Ty had Dee squeezed between them, and Grace felt a shot of rage at Truman. Not only were his hit men trying to kill Hugh; they also didn’t hesitate to take out anyone who got in their way.
Otto started moving toward the entrance to the living room. “How many?”
“Two.”
“Th-three,” Sam corrected Ty, who frowned at his brother.
“Are you sure? I only saw two.”
Although Sam nodded, it was hesitant.
Jules shifted toward the kitchen window, as if to look out, but Theo caught her by the hand. “Stay away from the windows.”
“You going to call it in?” Hugh asked, his voice and posture tight.
“Not yet,” Otto said. “Sirens’ll just tip them off, and they’ll disappear. Let’s come at them from the back way.”
“Back way?” Hugh asked, but Otto didn’t answer. Instead, moving surprisingly lightly for such a big man, he hurried into the living room. Grace followed, wanting to dosomething. He put his hand flat against the biometric reader on a safe, and the door clicked open. One at a time, he pulled out three rifles with slings and a pistol, handing them off to Hugh and Theo, who’d leashed their dogs.
He eyed Grace. “Can you shoot?”
Feeling a little useless, she bit her lip. “I never learned, so I think I’d do more harm than good with a gun.”
When he turned to Jules, she shook her head. “Not for me, thanks.”
Closing the safe, Otto looped his rifle sling over his head and one shoulder. He moved to a small door, opening it to reveal a coat closet. Shoving aside the hangers, he popped a piece of paneling free, exposing a keypad and what looked like another biometric scanner. Sure enough, he pressed his thumb to the screen and entered a code on the keypad. The back of the closet slid aside, revealing a steep staircase.
Grace couldn’t hold back a choked laugh. “It’s like the doomsday prepper’s Narnia.”
Otto gave her a quick grin, the first real smile she thought she’d ever gotten from him, before disappearing down the shadowed stairs. Theo ushered Jules and her siblings down the steps next, and Hugh waved Grace to follow them. When Otto had mentioned going out the back way, she hadn’t expected something as elaborate as this. She just assumed he meant a regular back door.
Although she’d braced herself for cobwebs and creaky stairs, the steps were clean and vermin-free. It wouldn’t be the worst place to wait out the invasion…if that was what the people on the ridge were planning. Maybe they were just some lost hikers who didn’t realize they were trespassing?
Grace mentally rolled her eyes at her inner optimist. Sure. There were multiple people out for Hugh’s blood, but the ones staking out Otto’s house were just innocent nature lovers. Right.
Hugh nudged her forward. She descended the last few steps and then looked around. They were in a midsize, windowless room, lit by a bare fluorescent bulb. Her “doomsday prepper” comment hadn’t been far off, judging by the amount of canned goods and water jugs stacked along the walls. Otto was already moving through another doorway, followed by the rest of them like a huge, gun-toting pied piper.
The corridor was narrow and shadowed, except when they were directly underneath an infrequent light fixture. Grace glanced at the ceiling. Had it gotten lower? Were the walls a little closer together? The tunnel was really long. Where was Otto taking them? And how did he oxygenate the space? Grace felt her breathing speed up, and she tried to slow it down. Until she learned how he ventilated the corridor, it would probably be smart not to suck down all the air.
Hugh’s hand found her shoulder, and she jumped, clenching her teeth to hold back a yelp of surprise. Once the initial shock faded, though, the contact was reassuring, and she was tempted to reach back and squeeze his hand.
The corridor slanted uphill, and it felt like they walked for miles before Otto started climbing a ladder that was bolted to the wall.
“Anyone who’s not a cop stays down here,” Theo stated quietly.
