Page 103 of Counter Attack

She nodded, surprised he’d remembered.

A minute later, he came back to the truck and opened her door and ushered her into the house. “All good—except I need to talk to Carson—the alarm wasn’t set.”

“You’re kidding.” She thought a minute. “Maybe because they knew we weren’t going to be gone long.”

“Do they always set it?”

“Not during the day—it’s too much trouble for Gram since she’s in and out the back door all the time.”

He nodded. “She left a note in your room saying there’s a cup of hot cocoa in the microwave for you to reheat.”

“Gram only makes me cocoa when she thinks I’m really tired. I must have looked awful earlier.”

“You never look awful,” he teased. “But you do have raccoon eyes.”

“Thanks. You’re about as subtle as my grandfather.”

He laughed. “Your grandfather isn’t subtle.”

“Bingo. He was terrible when I was a teenager.”

“True, he did always vet your friends.”

“I don’t remember him ever treating you that way.”

“That’s because we’ve been friends since fifth grade. I was too young for him to put under the bright light.”

Alex looked up at him. “We have been friends a long time, haven’t we?” Then she yawned again.

“And I’m going. You’re dead on your feet. See you in the morning? Maybe grab a cup of coffee after briefing our officers?”

“Sounds good. I’d like to go over some of what we learned yesterday.”

“Be sure to set the alarm.”

After Nathan left she did as he’d said as thoughts of the video and photos of the victims tensed her body again. Alex flipped on the shower, turning the handle as hot as she could stand, and let the hot streams from the jets pound her neck and shoulders.

Ten minutes later, she slipped on her leggings and pajama top and climbed into bed, almost knocking over the mug and Bible that hadn’t been there earlier. Alex smiled. Gram must have warmed the cocoa and brought it to her bedroom whileshe was in the shower. And obviously placed the Bible there too as a hint.

She didn’t need the warm drink to go to sleep, but her grandmother had gone to the trouble of making it—she’d be disappointed if Alex didn’t drink it. And if she didn’t read at least a chapter in the Bible...

She sat up in bed and sipped the hot liquid as she made out a schedule for the morning. Alex frowned. Her grandmother must’ve changed cocoa brands. It wasn’t bad, but it certainly wasn’t up to Gram’s usual hot chocolate. She drank half of it and set the cup aside. In the morning Alex needed to tell Gram if she’d changed brands, to change back. Then she picked up the Bible and opened it where her grandmother had placed the bookmark.

Fifteen minutes later, Alex’s eyes blurred, and she reached to turn off the lamp, fumbling with the button, when the floor outside her door creaked. Her grandmother? Maybe something was wrong with Gramps.

Alex threw back the covers and stumbled as she climbed out of bed. What was wrong with her? Fog filled her mind. She turned as her hall door opened. “Gram?”

54

Ajackhammer pounded in Alex’s head. Moldy air clogged her nose.

Where was she? Somewhere so dark she could feel the blackness. And the damp. The smell was vaguely familiar, like she’d smelled it before but a long time ago.

A memory broke through the mush in her brain. A cave. She was deep in the ground.Why?If only her head didn’t feel like it was going to explode, she could pull it all together. Alex moved only to have something hard poke her back, and she squirmed away from it, immediately wishing she hadn’t moved her head.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good. I was afraid I’d have to leave without saying goodbye.”

She peered into the darkness, searching for movement as her muddled brain processed the distorted words. “Who are you? What do you want?”

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