I pulled the drawer out further. There were USB drives. Four of them. I snatched them and stuck them in my utility belt.
The second drawer held three files neatly stacked. I flipped through them. They were labeled Packard Graystone, Axton Graystone, and Rosalyn Strickland. Without taking the time to read them, I shrugged the backpack off my shoulders and stuck the files inside.
I looked in the lowest drawers, which contained hanging file folders. I quickly sorted through them, pulling out files of the most notable people in Huntingford, including Councilman Beaumont and Martin Mathers, the Chief of Police. I shoved those into the backpack as well, zipped it up, and slung it back on my shoulders before stepping out of the study.
I had no idea how long I had been searching the downstairs. It felt like hours. Roxy should be waiting for me by now.
I snuck back to the kitchen, the backpack weighing on me as if filled with rocks. Every sound magnified. The clink of the USB drives in my belt, the squeak of my left shoe on the tile. I sucked at this. Roxy wasn’t there. I opened the basement door and listened, but it was dark and I didn’t hear anything.
Panic crept up and the sweat and the heat made me lightheaded. I quickly ran down my options. Go upstairs and keep searching for Axton or stay in the kitchen and wait for a henchman to pop in for a snack. I spoke into the mike on my headset. “I’m in the kitchen and Roxy isn’t here. I’m going upstairs now.”
I crept back out into the foyer. The television blared from the living room, but I didn’t dare peek into the room to see who, if anyone, was there.
Keeping as close to the wall as I could, I tiptoed up the stairs. Once I reached the top, I looked back down to reassure myself no one followed. With my gaze still on the bottom step, I walked forward and ran into Roxy. Literally. We knocked our heads so hard it made an audible thud.
She gasped. “Shit, Rose, that hurt.”
“You were supposed to meet me downstairs,” I whispered.
“I’ve already checked this side of the house.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder.
We crept down the other hall, me in front, Roxy right behind. Muffled voices sounded from a room up ahead. I stopped dead and Roxy slammed into me.
“What the hell?” she mouthed.
“Voices,” I mouthed back. “Could be Ax.”
“Might be Henry.”
The door was ten feet away. I couldn’t make out words, but it sounded like two men. Henry? Axton? Henry torturing Axton? I’d already come this far. I motioned with my head, and as quietly as I could manage, I walked toward the voices.
I turned off my flashlight and tucked it back into my belt, then pulled out my Sparky. I looked at Roxy and nodded.
Stepping closer to the door I held up my index finger. One. I held up my second finger. Two. When I held up my ring finger I twisted the door handle and burst into the room.
Axton and the bald henchman sat on the edge of the bed with their backs to us. They faced a TV and held controllers in their hands.
All this time I’d been worried about Axton, and here he sat, playing video games.
Irritation, relief, and joy flowed through me as I walked forward and zapped the bald guy in the back of the neck. He gave a little grunt and slumped forward, but I caught him by the collar of his jacket before he fell off the bed.
Roxy shut the door and walked into the room behind me.
Axton, surprise on his face, looked over at the bald man, then up at me.
“Rose,” he cried.
“Shhh,” I said.
“Rose,” he whispered. The controller was still in his hand as he threw his arms around me.
“We’re getting you out of here.” I turned to Roxy. “We need to tie this guy up and gag him.”
She nodded and pulled a rope out of her tool belt.
“You guys are like covert warrior women and stuff,” Axton said.
I put my fingers to my lips in the universal shushing motion. “Axton, help me get this guy to the floor.”
“His name’s Ron,” he said.
Together we got Ron down on the ground and flipped him over on his stomach. Roxy trussed him up with her rope while I looked around for a gag. The queen bed was the only piece of furniture in the room, so I used one of the pillowcases. Roxy took another rope and secured the pillowcase in his mouth, tying it tightly behind his head.
“Let’s see if he’ll fit in the closet,” she said.
“Good idea. Axton, help me with his legs.”
Ron blinked up at us, dazed, as Roxy grabbed under his arms and pulled. Axton and I each took a leg, and pushed, scooting him on his butt into the empty closet.
After we tucked Ron away, I scrutinized Axton. He looked a little shaggier than normal, but otherwise fine.
“Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“I’m okay.”
I smiled at him and he smiled back.
“Enough with the love fest, can we get out of here already?” Roxy asked.
“Okay, right. Do you have your pepper spray?”
She dug it out of a pocket on her belt and held it up.
“I’ll go first, since I have the stun gun. Axton, you go second, and Roxy will be behind you.”
“Be quiet and stay close to the wall,” Roxy told him.
Slowly, quietly, we made our way out the bedroom and down the hall. I peered around the corner at the top of the stairs. We were in the clear, so I motioned with one hand for Roxy and Axton to follow me.
I sidestepped my way down the stairs, my back so tight against the banister, I might be bruised for life. We were halfway down when a man stepped out of the living room and blocked our clean exit. It was the guy who sat next to me in the car when Henry kidnapped me, the one with cold eyes who slipped the blindfold on me.
“Oh no, now we’re all captured,” Axton said.
“What the hell?” the guy asked. He flipped one side of his jacket and reached behind his back. Probably for a huge ass gun that could blow a huge ass hole through my liver.
“NO!” I screamed. I charged down the remaining steps and zapped him straight in the Adam’s apple. His bulk twitched forward as he crumpled and he nearly took me with him on his way down. As it was, I had to struggle to free my right foot from his meaty thigh.
“Rosie, you are kicking ass tonight.” Axton slapped me on the back.
“We gotta go,” Roxy said.
Body shaking, heart pounding, adrenaline spiking, I stepped over the still conscious but unmoving cold-eyed guy, and waved Roxy and Axton on like a third base coach. “Go, go, go. This guy’s won’t stay down forever.”
Roxy grabbed Axton’s arm and dragged him toward the kitchen, me only three steps behind. Then the alarm sounded. Every light turned on and the loudest, most high-pitched wailing blared through the house.
“Go, go,” I yelled as loud as I could.
Roxy flung open the back door. Floodlights lit up the backyard like it was opening night at Busch stadium. They flew through the doorway, sprinting across the yard without looking back.
I’d taken just two steps outside, when someone slammed into my back and knocked me to the ground.
