Sundance Kid, who are these guys?”
Molly repeated what she’d heard Des tell Clay in the kitchen-that the Feds were convinced he and Hector were big-time drug traffickers who’d turned her home into a crystal meth stash house. The meth was hidden down in the root cellar, Molly believed, because Clay had ordered her never, ever to go down there. When she asked him why he’d smacked her so hard that her ear rang for a whole day.
Mitch was genuinely shaken to learn that Clay Mundy had struck this little girl. He went to Molly and hugged her. Or tried.
“Now is not the time to get all feely, Mitch,” she scolded him. “Des needs us.”
He released her, glancing over at Bella. “Not to be negative, but do we know for a fact that Des is still alive?”
“No, we don’t,” Bella had to admit. “No has spoken with her. Or seen her through any of the windows. The hostage negotiators keep asking Clay to put her on the phone, but he refuses to.”
“She’s alive,” Molly said insistently.
“How do you know that?” Mitch asked her.
“Because she has to be.”
“They don’t know if she’s wounded or she’s tied up someplace or what,” Bella said fretfully. “Which Yolie told us creates a very troubling, uh, what did she call it, sweetie?”
“A hold fire scenario,” Molly answered promptly. “They’ve got this big huge SWAT team in place but right now it’s a standoff.”
Bella nodded. “Yolie said if it lasts much longer they may have to resort to bean bags.”
“That means they fire a charge from a shotgun that won’t kill anyone,” Molly explained. “It stings and distracts the perpetrators while the SWAT guys storm the building.”
“But it’s very risky,” Bella pointed out. “Because they don’t know exactly where in the house Des is.”
“Mitch, I know where she is,” Molly said. “Just before Des went for the gun Clay was talking about showing her the stash of drugs in our root cellar. First, he wanted to tie her up with a rope. I swear that’s what he did. Tied her up and threw her in the root cellar. That’s why no on has seen her through the windows.”
“Makes sense. What did Yolie say when you told her?”
Molly lowered her eyes. “I didn’t.”
“She sure didn’t,” Bella added disapprovingly. “This is all news to me.”
“Why didn’t you, Molly?”
“Because it’s my fault Des is in trouble,” the girl explained. “See, I accidentally left my library book over there. And it was due back. You have to return them on time. It’s really important.”
“It’s not that important.”
“It is, too, Mitch! And don’t you ever say otherwise because you are totally wrong. When I went over there to get it Clay wouldn’t let me leave. So Des got in the house with this totally lame story about us going to a Connecticut Sun game together. She put her life on the line for me. I can’t let anything happen to her, Mitch. I just can’t.”
“So why didn’t you tell Yolie where you think she might be?”
“I don’t think it. I know it.”
“I repeat, why didn’t you?”
“For the same reason I didn’t tell her that I also know how to sneak Des out of there right under Clay and Hector’s noses.”
“And this reason is…?”
“Because you’re the one who has to save her, Mitch. You two love each other. You belong together. Duh, don’t you know that?”
“Molly, this is a serious life and death situation. We’re talking about real life here, not some dumb old Hollywood…” Mitch caught himself, sighing inwardly.
Molly peered at him quizzically. “Not some dumb old Hollywood what?”
“Nothing. I was just about to say the very words that a certain green-eyed individual used to say to me at times like this. Allow me to appreciate the irony of the moment.”
“Mitch, you have to decide. Are you going to save Des or aren’t you?”
“Neither. I’m calling Yolie right now and telling her everything.”
Molly rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, you are not. Come on, will you? We’re wasting valuable time.”
Mitch barged past Bella into the kitchen and dug around in the cupboard under the sink for the box of Cocoa Puffs he’d left hidden there behind the drain cleaner and furniture polish. Returned to the living room with it and plopped down in the easy chair, munching on a chocolaty good handful. That was one of the really great things about Cocoa Puffs-you never had to worry about them getting stale. “Okay, go ahead and tell me what you want to tell me. And I’ll listen. But I’m making you no promises, understood?”
“Okay,” Molly agreed. “But first you have to tell me something really important.”
“Which is…?”
“What in the heck did they do to your eyebrows?”
C HAPTER 13
Darkness.
Such total blackness that Des could not even tell whether her eyes were open or shut. Slowly, as she came back to the land of the living, the first thought to enter her semiconscious mind was that she’d gone blind. Must have. Until, that is, another explanation crept its way in: There is something over my eyes. Yes, that was it. She was in a hospital bed wearing thick protective bandages over them. Got herself into an awful accident of some kind. What kind? Had she been high-speed chasing someone? Did she flip her Crown Vic? Have to be airlifted out by Life Star helicopter? Had Mitch come to see her yet? Was he right here by her bedside? She couldn’t remember. Started to reach a hand toward her bandaged eyes… and discovered she couldn’t. Not without experiencing a spasm of pain in her shoulder so intense that she couldn’t so much as move her hand. Either hand. Her wrists seemed to be joined tight behind her back. It was almost as if someone had cuffed them that way. Or bound them together with some sturdy…
And now she remembered.
Molly running for the French doors. Her diving for Clay’s Glock as he opened fire. Wrestling him for it. Hector jumping her from behind. And then the explosion in her head that made everything go black. Hector must have cracked her over the head with something. And then they’d tied her up and dumped her here in this totally black place that smelled of damp earth and mold. The root cellar. Of course, they’d shoved her through the trapdoor into the root cellar beneath the kitchen.
But where was Molly?
As she lay there, blinded only by the darkness, Des took inventory of herself. She lay on her side in a fetal position, ankles bound together as tight as her wrists were. Something was stuffed in her mouth, she realized, her tongue probing it carefully. A rag of some kind. Her head ached something fierce, and the back of her neck felt wet. Her head wound must have bled. Her ribs throbbed where they’d kicked her. Arms seemed to be bare. The ground felt cold against them. Her fingers groped for the back of her shirt. It felt like a T-shirt or, no wait, a polo shirt. Right, she’d changed out of her uni before she got here. Which was when? How long had she been unconscious? How much time had passed since Molly made that dash for the door?
And where was Molly?
Had the little girl taken a bullet or gotten away? Was she safe? Was she lying dead somewhere? Or was Molly down here with her in this root cellar, bound and gagged same as she was? Des made a soft, inquiring noise through that rag in her mouth. More like whimper than anything else. Listened for a response. Heard nothing. Not so much as the sound of someone else breathing. She was alone down here.
Unless Molly was with her but was dead.
Slowly, Des tried to wriggle into a seated position. But she couldn’t seem to make her body obey. Any sort of a movement made her head ache so badly that she began to feel really nauseated. Which was so not an option. Not
