Crowthorne bounced up and down. “There’s a loose floorboard here. Roll up the rug!”
The floorboards were bared, and the loose board levered up with a crowbar.
The ruffian stuck his arm down and felt around. “Nothing ’ere.”
“It was never here!” Hazelton said, his voice shaking. “A complete waste of time. I’ve had enough. We must leave, Crowthorne. It’s almost dawn. I live here in Slough. People look up to me, damn it. I’m a respected member of this village.”
“Will you calm down?” Crowthorne roared. “I have dispatched Goodrich and Wensley for disagreeing with my methods. I’ll happily send you both to join them in Hades.” He glared at the frightened man. “Don’t just stand there like a wax effigy, Hazelton. Think!”
“You had Goodrich and Wensley killed?” Hazelton’s eyes grew round with fear. He took a hurried step backward and stumbled over the rolled-up carpet. Falling heavily, he tried to right himself, grabbing the table where a lamp and a branch of candles stood. The table gave way, and they tumbled to the floor. The lamp broke, spilling kerosene. Before anyone could move, flames raced across the carpet and climbed the curtains.
Flynn grabbed a cushion and began to beat out the flames. He pulled the curtains down and stamped on the embers, cursing as the sofa began to smolder.
“They’re getting away!” Bricks shouted.
Flynn whirled around as a barrage of deafening shots filled the room.
Hazelton and his cohort lay spread-eagled on the floor halfway out the door. “Bloody hell! I didn’t want them killed!” Flynn leapt after Crowthorne.
“Sorry, my lord,” Bricks said, running behind him. “My men were spooked.”
Out on the road, Crowthorne’s horse broke the silence as it galloped away.
“Go back and put out that fire!” Flynn yelled at Bricks, while running for a horse tethered to the fence.
Flynn leapt onto the horse. “Go!” He nudged its flanks, and swearing vociferously, galloped after Crowthorne, while his hope that the scoundrel would lead him to Althea evaporated. The man was already out of sight.
Flynn rode to Crowthorne’s house. The gates were bolted and the mansion stood in darkness. He considered breaking in but doubted Crowthorne had come back there. He couldn’t afford to waste valuable time. The thought of Crowthorne putting his hands on Althea made him yell out in frustration as his horse sidled nervously.
Flynn steadied his mount and rode back along the road, driven by the desperate hope that he might know where Althea was kept prisoner.
