Page 90 of Lacey's Fight

Blinking to clear the red haze of rage, Ben saw that Mervin was a bloody, sobbing mess, cowering as best as he could with Ben’s hand still around his neck, holding him up.

“Last chance,” he ordered. “Where is she?”

“U-under the g-greenhouse,” Mervin stammered.

Ben dropped the man and ran out of the bedroom. He took the stairs three at a time and then burst through the front door running for the greenhouse. They’d cleared it earlier and found nothing inside but plants.

Now he scanned it, looking for a trapdoor, or door that might lead to stairs down to an underground room.

There.

Down one end of the greenhouse was a storage area with a table full of pots, potting mix, trowels, shovels, rakes, and other gardening paraphernalia. Beneath it, he could see what he now recognized as the outline of a trapdoor.

When he took off toward it he heard footsteps behind him.

Coach and Truck helped him drag the table out of the way to find a padlock on the trapdoor.

“I’ll tell Ghost we need the location of the keys from Mervin,” Coach said.

Ben didn’t want to wait.

Snatching a shovel, he rammed it into the lock until the wood around it splintered. Dropping to his knees he yanked what was left of the trapdoor open and dropped down into a small space.

He growled when he found another locked door.

“Bolt cutters,” Truck said, holding them out.

Ben took them, cut the padlock, and threw the door open.

Then finally—finally—he was at Lacey’s side.

The room was swelteringly hot, and as soon as he’d touched his fingers to her neck, confirmed that she was still alive, Ben scooped her into his arms and carried her outside.

Winter in the Southern hemisphere meant that it was cold out, only around fifty-five degrees, and he hoped that helped cool her body down. Sitting down, he settled Lacey between his knees, resting her torso against his chest as Truck, the Delta Team medic, knelt beside them.

“How bad is she?” he asked, dreading the answer.

For a moment Truck didn’t reply, focusing instead on checking Lacey’s vitals, taking her pulse, blood pressure, and fitting an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. When his blue eyes finally met Ben’s, they were concerned but not panicked.

“Pretty sure we got to her in time,” Truck told him.

Coach appeared beside him with a stack of towels and washcloths, and with the use of the hose, they soaked each one and placed them on her neck, groin, and under her armpits. Then while Coach ran the hose over Lacey’s overheated body, and Truck set up an IV, Ben just held her and prayed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

August 17th

2:46 P.M.

Two days in the hospital and Lacey was beyond thrilled to finally be heading home.

Well, almost thrilled.

After almost dying in that underground oven Lacey, had had enough heat to last her for a good long while and returning to California’s steamy summer wasn’t her idea of fun right now.

What would she give for a huge pile of fresh fallen snow, flakes still fluttering through the air, everything crisp and cold?

Heaven.

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