Page 50 of In Her Sights
The knob felt cold in her grip, and she shivered as she turned it. Don’t let this spooky, dark house freak you out, the practical part of her brain warned. Straightening her shoulders, she pulled the door open, revealing a narrow, steep flight of stairs that climbed into an even deeper darkness above.
What do these people have against natural light—or any light, for that matter? Molly wondered. She kept her flashlight low as she climbed, wincing at every squeak and crack of the steps under her weight. Reaching the top, she started to place her foot down, then froze at the faintest hint of pressure against her shin.
As she looked down, pointing the tiny flashlight at her feet, she saw the shine of a silver wire stretching across the top step about eight inches off the floor. Carefully stepping over the trip wire, she hoped that the slight tug hadn’t been enough to trigger whatever it was connected to. Her heart thundered in her chest at the close call, and she wanted more than anything to run back down the stairs, grab John, and leave this spooky, dark house and all of its booby traps behind. They could go home and take Warrant for a nice walk in the national forest behind her house before making dinner with her sisters, all of them happily mashed into the tiny kitchen together.
The only problem was that if she didn’t bring in Sonny Zarver, that house wouldn’t be hers for much longer.
Resolved, she crept forward down a short hallway. There were three doors, one on either side and the last one straight ahead. She paused to listen, hoping to get a hint as to which one Sonny was in, but there was only silence. Unable to hear John or Mother Tick anymore, she suddenly felt very alone. As she shifted, the board under her feet gave a soft creak, and she went still for a long moment, fully expecting one of the three doors to bang open, revealing a murderous Sonny intent on keeping his freedom. Nothing moved. It felt as if even the house was holding its breath.
Knowing that the longer she hesitated, the greater the chance of them all being blown to pieces, Molly picked the door on her left at random. It was locked. Of course it is. She quickly ran through her options, deciding that picking the lock would be a last resort, since it would take more precious time than she wanted to spare and, although not especially noisy, the small sounds could easily catch Sonny’s attention.
While she was deciding this, she checked the handle of the door on the right. To her surprise, it turned easily under her fingers. Standing to the side, she pushed it open, her muscles tensed, ready to fling herself out of the way. There was a slight resistance, and she shoved harder. There was a solid click as the door suddenly flew open completely, banging against the wall.
The room was shabby and messy, with a mattress on the floor and clothes and belongings strewn across everything. A blanket covered one window, but the other was wide open, the covering hanging limply to the side. Blinking against the unexpected brightness, Molly only vaguely noticed the untidy details, her focus fixed on the hand grenade rolling to a stop against the base of a pressboard dresser. The pin was missing, and the knowledge hit her in that split second that it was hanging on the door she’d just swung open.
She’d just activated a grenade.
This was bad. Very, very bad.
Chapter 16
Without stopping to come up with a plan, Molly turned and bolted, hurdling the trip wire at the top of the stairs and getting all the way down the steps before her thinking brain engaged again. Blasting through the door at the bottom of the steps, she yelled, “Out! Get out!”
Tearing down the hallway, she saw John running across the living room toward her. There was no sign of Mother Tick.
“What are you doing?” Molly shrieked, not slowing down. “Go! Out! Grenade!”
His eyes widened, but instead of immediately hightailing it out of there, he waited until she flew past him and then tucked himself in behind her. Stupid, chivalrous ass! she yelled in her head, not wanting to waste the oxygen she needed for sprinting. She could scold him later for his lack of self-preservation…if they managed to not get blown up, that was.
As they neared the open front door, everything felt like it had slowed down to a nightmare pace. Fighting the need to look behind her to check on John, Molly forced her legs to move faster as she reached toward the doorframe, as if she could pull it closer to them if only she could reach it.
She wasn’t fast enough.
A loud rumbling bang! made her duck and cover her head with both arms. Her heart caught as she turned toward John, instinctively moving to protect him from damage. Plaster dust rained down on them, interspersed with several louder crashes as pieces of the ceiling fell. John pushed her back, grunting as a chunk of plaster caught him on the shoulder. Blinking the dust out of her eyes, Molly moved to check if he was seriously hurt, but he turned her bodily around and pressed her through the open door and across the porch. They didn’t stop until they were on the lawn.
Pulling her to a halt, John frantically checked her over, his hands moving gently along her arms and torso. “Does anything hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”
“John.” She grabbed his fingers, stopping his inspection until he met her gaze. “I’m fine. You’re the one who was hit. How’s your shoulder?”
He glanced at it as if he’d forgotten. Molly hadn’t forgotten. She’d be seeing that moment in her nightmares for a long time. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice calmer, shrugging that shoulder as if to prove that he was okay.
“Good.” Relief that he wasn’t seriously hurt rushed through her. Brushing small chunks of plaster out of her hair, she glanced over at Mother Tick by the curb, talking on her cell phone. Molly groaned.
“What’s wrong?” John eyed her carefully up and down. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“Positive. That wasn’t an I’m-in-pain sound. That was a she’s-calling-the-cops-so-we’ll-be-stuck-here-for-hours-answering-questions groan.”
“What happened?” Mother Tick called out to them, the cell phone still at her ear. “Where’s Sonny? Didn’t he make it out? Someone needs to check on him.” By the way she planted her feet and looked at John and Molly accusingly, that someone was not going to be Mother Tick.
Molly opened her mouth to say that Mr. Booby Trap could just deal with the consequences until the cops and firefighters arrived, but then she changed her mind before the words could make it out. “I’ll go,” she said sweetly instead.
“No, I’ll go.” John shifted so he stood between her and the house. “Think of the baby.”
Instead of arguing, she just dodged around him, grabbing his hand on the way. “We’ll both go and watch out for each other. The baby will need both its parents.” She could feel his tension, and she knew he was going to try to prevent her from going back in the house. This was a prime opportunity to search through Sonny’s things…what was left of them. As soon as they were out of Mother Tick’s earshot, she muttered, “You need my help. I know where at least one of the trip wires is.”
That shut him up until they were back inside, eyeing the damaged ceiling. Although there were chunks of plaster missing, and the light fixture hung askew, wires showing on one side, it didn’t appear that the whole thing was going to come crashing down on their heads.
