Murry grinned.“I’ll grant you that.”
“We’ll be fine,” Adrian told him.“As long as whoever’s inside doesn’t escape.”
Murry nodded.“Very well.”
He ambled off, leaving Samantha and Adrian to deal with the lock.
Before attempting to pick it, Samantha reached for the handle and gave it a push.When it didn’t budge, she glanced at Adrian and shrugged one shoulder.“It was worth a try.”
Retrieving one of her lethal, diamond-tipped hairpins, she dropped to a crouch and got to work.Before long the lock clicked.Adrian gave the handle a gentle nudge and eased the door open.Samantha winced in response to the squeak produced by the hinges.If someone indeed occupied the room to their right from which the light had emanated, they’d surely have heard it.
Adrian must have realized this too for he froze, seemed to pause and listen, before stepping into the small foyer.It was more cluttered than what Samantha was used to.Books and papers littered the entryway table.A discarded hat sat on top while a scarf lay abandoned in a corner.
She gave the space a quick sweep with her gaze.It hadn’t been cleaned in recent days, if even in weeks or months.Apparently more important things preoccupied those who lived here.
Adrian moved through the foyer with a swift tread and peeked inside the first room he reached.“Empty.”
Samantha checked the opposite room.It, too, was vacant.Light from oil lamps left in each of these rooms cast them in a partial glow.
A search of the remaining rooms downstairs showed no one present.But for anyone to leave home without turning the light down seemed unlikely.
Reconvening near the foot of the stairs, Adrian glanced toward the landing.“Can you make sure the bedchambers are clear while I take a look at the basement?”
“Do you think splitting up is wise?”
“If anyone is here, I think this is our best chance of catching them.If both of us head to the basement and there’s someone upstairs, nothing will stop that person from escaping through the front door.”
“The same would be true if we both head upstairs.”Anyone presently in the basement would be able to track their movement across the floorboards overhead.Of course, they might choose to leave through the back in which case Murry would stop them, but there was no guarantee.“You’re sure you can manage whatever trouble might come your way?”
He gave a quick nod.“You?”
“Without a doubt.”She retrieved her pistol from her reticule, which she abandoned on the hallway table next to the hat.“Shout if you need me.”
“You do the same.”He headed off toward the rear of the building while Samantha started up the stairs.
* * *
The air in the stairwell leading down to the basement was stuffy.Adrian winced as he made his decent.The light from the lamp he’d brought pushed back the darkness, forcing it to retreat to the corners.
The wooden step beneath one of his booted feet creaked.It was followed by a muffled sound that instantly had him curling his fingers more firmly around the pistol he carried in his right hand.
The sound came again—from somewhere farther ahead and slightly to the left.
Adrian stepped off the bottom stair and made his approach.Glass reflecting the light from his lamp suggested the presence of a window or door at the end of the corridor.His heel scraped over an uneven spot on the floor.Again he heard the muffled sound, louder this time.
It almost sounded as if…
He suppressed the shudder that swept his spine as memories from his childhood resurfaced.The sounds had been similar then, when his father had held people captive in the room beneath the stairs and forced answers from them.Even the air smelled similar.A mixture of lime-wash and damp mortar.
His stomach clenched, every muscle contracting to warn him away from what he approached.And yet, knowing he’d once more have to face what he’d longed to escape from most of his life made him all the more eager to finish this business.Because what he was hearing could only be proof of one thing: A person, gagged and most likely restrained, was in the process of being tortured.
The sooner he helped the individual, the sooner he caught the responsible party and made them pay, the sooner he could return home with his wife and put all of this behind them.
He stepped forward slowly while keeping his wits about him until he could glimpse inside the room from which the muffled sounds were coming.
It was darker in there than in the corridor.
Worried it might be a trap of some sort, he stretched out his arm, hoping the oil lamp would offer a better idea of what he’d be walking into.The light fell on a stool.When he swept the lamp sideways, the edge of a table also came into view.It was from this direction the muffled sound came.Louder now and more urgent.
