A coffee cup shattered, breaking the brief silence as everyone turned toward the sound.Lash was against the wall.He was pale and shaking and staring down at the floor.
“It slipped out of my hands.”
Joshua ran to get a broom as Tilly fussed with the splatters that dappled the edge of a soft, moss-green rug.
Ryder stared at Lash, as if seeing him for the very first time.He couldn’t bring himself to believe that anyone who knew Casey would want to cause her harm.And Marlow was, as usual, every inch the gentleman—from the cut of his clothes to the style of his hair.But why was Lash so upset over a spilled cup of coffee?Ryder kept staring and staring, remembering his brother’s words and trying to see past the obvious to the man beneath.Suddenly, something about Lash’s appearance struck a sour note.
“Hey, Marlow.”
At the sound of Ryder’s voice, Lash jerked as if he’d been slapped.He looked up.“Yes?”
“What the hell happened to your hand?”
He didn’t have to look down to know they were referring to the row of skinned knuckles on his right hand and the long red gash that ran from one edge of his wrist to the other.Gorge rose in his throat as he struggled with an answer they all might believe.He could hardly tell them it was the remnants of his bout with Casey.
He managed a laugh.“I locked myself out of the house last night.Graystone may be past her prime, but like the lady she is, she does not easily part with her virtue.I broke a window trying to get inside.Lucky for me I didn’t cut my own wrist, right?”
The answer was plausible enough.Ryder shrugged.If the man had cut his own throat, he couldn’t have cared less.If there was news that pertained to Casey, he wanted to know now.
“Look, Gant, let’s get down to business.Why did you call us all together?”
Lash was counting his blessings that the subject of his wounds had been changed.But his relief was short-lived when Gant started to talk.
“Forensics came up with a print on Casey’s car that doesn’t match anyone else in the family.”
Ryder stiffened.Was this their first break?“Do you have an ID?”
Gant nodded.“Belongs to a low-life hood out of Natchez named Bernie Pike.”
Lash felt his legs going out from under him and slid into a chair before he made another social faux pas.By the time everyone present had assured the detective they knew nothing about the name, he had himself under control.
Although Gant’s meeting with the family had been necessary, he hadn’t really expected anything to come from this lead.At least, not from this quarter.He was gathering his things and readying to leave when he suddenly remembered another fact he needed to verify.
Lash Marlow was on his way out the door when Gant called him back.
“Marlow!Wait!”
Lash spun, his nerves tightening with every breath that he took.“Yes?”
“About the ransom.Will you be able to get it all together by tomorrow?”
He went weak with relief.“Yes, sir.The bank has been most helpful in this case.Some of it arrived today by armored car.The rest should be here before noon tomorrow.”
Gant nodded.“Good.I don’t want any last minutes hitches.When that call comes in, I want to be ready to roll.”
Lash stifled a smile.“I couldn’t agree with you more.”
CHAPTER 15
Now that Casey was no longer blindfolded, the thick layer of dust covering the floor in the room where she was being held was obvious.The footprints marring the gray-white surface were evidence of the degree of traffic that had come into Fostoria Biggers’s home since she’d been gone.The absence of glass in two of the three windows of her temporary cell did little to offer an avenue for her to escape.They had all been boarded up from the outside.She couldn’t get out and fresh air couldn’t get in.
Last night when they thought she’d been sleeping, she’d dug and pulled and pushed at the boards until her fingers were raw and her nails were gone.Only after she heard one of the men stirring around had she ceased her futile bid for freedom.
Now, she thought it was some time after daybreak.The smell of morning coffee had drifted into the room.On the one hand, she felt justified in celebrating the arrival of a new day, but if Lash was to be believed, she would not celebrate another.
She stood at the door, holding her breath and desperately trying to hear what the two men in the other room were saying.It was impossible.Their voices were too low and the door was too thick to hear anything other than an occasional murmur.
A plate lay on the floor near her feet.Remnants of the sandwich they’d given her yesterday to eat.She’d taken the food and a good look at the filth on their hands and decided she would rather go to her grave hungry.
