Page 100 of Every Deadly Suspicion

“Whoa.” Jared stepped back. “I’d rather try another way. The walls might be brick, but the door, roof, and roof joists are dry wood. So dry, this house will go up like a Roman candle.”

As if to prove his point, fire flashed through the crack between the top of the door and the frame, across the ceiling.

“Enjoy the barbecue, ladies.” A car door slammed, and an engine started.

Jared hopped back to where Hanna stood.

Smoke began to flood the area, along with heat.

Marcus meant to burn them to death.

Jared was right. As dry as everything was and with smoke quickly growing thicker, Marcus might just be successful.

“We got to get out of here. Where do you think the purse is?” Jared asked.

Hanna turned to Rita, who searched the ground around where she had lain. “Did he bring it in here with you?”

“I’m not sure. He dropped me on the floor and then I think he walked over here.” She indicated the back wall. “But he was behind me.”

Jared joined them in searching the area. “Hurry, fire burns up, but smoke and heat will soon be a serious threat to us in here.”

Hanna stood next to Rita and considered the back of the garage.

“This is an old house,” she said, half to herself. “It looks like a solid wall, but is it?” Another whoosh flared behind them as the fire ramped up. The smoke got thicker, and Hanna coughed. So did Rita and Jared.

“What are you thinking?” Jared asked Hanna.

“Back when this house was built, they often had cellars. But the garage is newer. Maybe the new construction blocked off the old cellar.”

“Maybe. After all, Everett’s panic room was built in an old cellar.”

Hanna saw that Jared still had the sledgehammer. She was about to ask him to smash the back wall when she saw a scrape on the cracked concrete floor.

“Jared, look, I think this is a door.”

He followed her gaze. “I think so too.” He dropped the sledgehammer and grabbed the crowbar. He picked a crack in the wood, slid the end of the crowbar in it, then leaned in. The wall slid open along the scrapes in the floor. Hanna could see the hinges and was able to push it open wider. Once opened, she saw the shelves. This was a canning cupboard, a cool part of the house where the food stores could be kept.

“There’s my purse.” Rita pushed past Hanna and grabbed a colorful flowered bag.

The purse was not all that was there. There were three more bags. Even in the dim light, Hanna recognized one of them as Edda’s. And there was a dented and bent travel coffee mug. Hanna picked it up and saw the engraving. It was Scott’s.

Rita found her phone. “He turned it off.” She hit the power button, and it began to power on. “Should I call 911?”

“Let me.” Hanna took the phone and hit the three numbers.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“Charlie, it’s Hanna. 999.” She gave him the code forofficer needs immediate assistance. “I’m in Marcus Marshall’s garage with Jared and another woman, and the house is on fire. I need Fire, and I need everyone on duty here now. And put a BOLO out on Marcus Marshall. He assaulted me; consider him armed and dangerous.”

Thankfully, Charlie didn’t hesitate. “10-4, Chief, I’ll get Fire rolling. And all units to your 20—do you have his address?”

“I don’t know the exact—it’s at the end of Granite.”

Just then part of the garage door exploded as the growing fire destroyed a support. Rita jumped and coughed; Hanna coughed as well. Jared was probing the back wall of the cupboard with the tip of the crowbar.

“Are you okay, Chief?” Charlie asked, for the first time the timbre of his voice changing to concern.

“For now. We need Fire ASAP.” She ended the call.

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