He counted each of Craig’s steps, half-expecting to see the ceiling cave in over the deserted table, but when it didn’t happen, Cole tugged on Ned and pointed to the secret passage. The firm chest filled with air, but Ned said nothing and glanced at Cole with a question in his eyes.
Should we go yet?
He depended on Cole to make this decision for them, and Cole would rather die than betray his trust.
If they lived beyond this day, he’d treasure it and never give Ned reason to question his intentions again.
Cole didn’t want to alert the marshal to their presence downstairs, because the bastard was determined enough to risk breaking all his limbs in a bid to catch them, but when Craig’s steps became so distant Cole could barely hear them, he tiptoed around the rubble, carefully choosing which boards to step on to make as little noise as possible. The damp air burned his lungs as if it were on fire, but his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Meeting Ned’s gaze, he lifted a flimsy side table and placed it away from the secret passage.
Dozens of scenarios rushed through his mind as he considered what might happen next, but the door opened as soon as he pressed the handle, and his heart skipped a beat when stone steps beyond it dove straight into the abyss.
Going into the basement might seal their fate, but with police surrounding the villa, they were left with little choice anyway, so he stepped forward just as Ned shut the door behind them.
The narrow staircase was cold like winter in the mountains and quiet as a grave, but Cole chose to ignore his gut feeling and trust that Jan did have reasons to make them wait down there. He placed both hands on the damp walls in case one of the steps were unstable and made himself move ever lower, toward a faint glow reaching the very bottom of the stairs.
They were halfway down when Ned stopped moving, and his breathing reached Cole’s ears in sharp gasps. "This doesn't feel right. Didn’t they say the ghosts of the girls were bound to the basement?" he whispered with such fright Cole wanted to shake him. This wasn’t the time for doubt. Craig was looking for them upstairs, and might even notice that the side table had been moved. If he opened the door behind them now, he could shoot Ned dead without risking much himself, and there wouldn’t have been much Cole could do to prevent it.
“Ned, I already told you. Ghosts don’t exist. You hallucinated them when you were drowned in liquor,” Cole whispered impatiently, fighting the urge to slap Ned awake.
“But—”
“No buts, Ned. Not now.” Cole grabbed his hand to make his point clear, and was relieved when Ned squeezed it instead of backing away.
“You really don’t smell the kerosene?”
“No, you’re only imagining it because I told you that people smelled it down here,” Cole said, running out of patience. Going downstairs might be a bad judgment call. They might end up cornered and shot, but what if, somehow, this was their sole chance to survive, and they missed it because of irrational fear?
Ned’s hands shook when he grabbed Cole’s shoulders. “The murderer… she hid the girls’ burnt bodies in this basement.”
Cold trickled down Cole’s spine, but his face was granite and wouldn’t twitch unless he willed it to. “Stop going back to what you’ve read on that dumb sheet of paper!”
Something hit the floor at the bottom of the stairs, but a squeak that followed suggested it was only a rat. Ned clenched his fingers on Cole’s hand so hard it hurt, but Cole wouldn’t deny him that sense of safety.
He shook his head to relieve the unease already clinging to him and pulled on Ned’s hand, luring him all the way down toward the faint light coming from a tiny window right under the vaulted ceiling across from the staircase.
With it being the only glimpse of the world outside, Cole had no way of knowing how large the basement was, but he could sense the vastness of the space as if it were a cathedral.
“It was just a rat,” Cole said, squeezing Ned’s damp hand as he took in the interior, squinting to see a bit better.
Walls built from pale brick stretched away from the tiny, flat window, past a mess of old furniture stacked full of boxes and jars. Shadows got denser farther on, but Cole could have sworn he spotted huge barrels in the part of the basement where dusk turned into night.
Wherever their salvation was, it wasn’t here, right by the staircase, so he took a deep breath of the strange-smelling air and tugged Ned deeper into the darkness.
Ned gave a choked gasp, holding his arm stiff even as he followed Cole’s lead as if he were afraid of waves in a stormy sea, and Cole was the one thing keeping him adrift. “I tell you, Cole, something ain’t right here.”
“I’ll protect you,” Cole whispered, rubbing his thumb over Ned’s hand to reassure him. His heart beat fast, heating up his limbs and face, but he didn’t falter.
He’d protected those he loved in the past and cared for them when they were unwell, but to be someone’s lifeline in a moment of fear was a new experience, one that made his senses sharper and his gait steadier as he led the way farther from the window, guided by dusty shelves and coarse walls.
Silence created a dull echo in his ears, so he focused on the grinding of dirt under their feet, and on the raspiness of Ned’s breathing as he followed Cole into the unknown, through a darkness so perfect Cole couldn’t see his hand when he waved it in front of his face.
For all he knew, he might be taking Ned into a trap instead of away from danger. He tried to reassure himself that Jan had never broken a promise. He could be a mean, stingy bastard, but an honest one, and with the police surrounding the building, putting trust in Jan was the only alternative to fighting their way out.
An odd scent reached Cole’s nose farther on, but while his mind rejected the notion that it was kerosene, he must have gotten into the spirit of Ned’s madness. Initially faint enough to be anything, the familiar odor became more intense with each step, and Cole couldn’t help his imagination running wilder than it should. The danger to their lives was very real, and between all the guns waiting for them to stick their heads out of the villa and the creepiness of Ned’s words, he started doubting his own senses.
Because what if? What if Ned was right? What if there was someone or something dangerous swelling in this dank basement?
Ned’s breath hitched. “How large is this place?” he asked, tugging at Cole’s hand with more force before suddenly stepping so close their hips touched. “I don’t like this, Cole. It’s like… we’re not even under the house anymore. Maybe we’re behind the veil, where the spirits live, or are about to walk right in there and disappear forever? Let’s at least find some candles.”
What was he on about? Cole had to end this madness before it scrambled Ned’s brain. “Look, there’s nothing here but shelves of old crap.”
“No. I stepped into something on the floor, and I touched it, and… it’s a shoe,” Ned said with his voice chilled. “There’s a man lying right here.”
The cold fingers of dread dug into Cole’s shoulders, and he couldn’t help squeezing Ned’s hand more tightly. “Stop this nonsense. An old shoe is not a corpse. This place has been abandoned for years,” he uttered, taking a mouthful of the sharp-scented air. He detested that he’d let Ned’s delusions infect him, but now he needed to know the truth as well and pulled out a pack of matches with a trembling hand. At this point he wasn’t even sure whom he wanted to convince of their safety—Ned or himself. “I’ll show you. All right?”