Page 69 of Catching Fire

With that realization, she turned and ran. Aiming for the front door, she arrived almost fast enough to slam into it. But she skidded to a stop, her feet screaming in pain at the stupid move. If someone were coming up the walk, she should hear him … right?

She didn’t know. But she threw the bolts one after the other and tugged hard on the knob.

Though it twisted easily in her hands, the door did not open.

She yanked at it again and again and felt tears in her eyes before she managed to stop herself. Though the tears still threatened, it didn’t matter. She had to get out. She was too smart to get stuck. Sanders himself might be smarter than her, but this stupid door wasn’t.

So she took a deep breath, and looked up and down for something that held the door shut. She realized it might well be something bracing it from the outside. And at least there was another door to try. But as she looked, she saw a small brass flap at the top.

Yes!she thought. She'd seen these as a child. They were safety locks, so the door could only be opened from the inside and by a person tall enough to reach them. As a child, she’d not been able to reach the one her father installed on the front door, but now, as an adult, she was certainly tall enough.

She pushed up on the lock, felt the metal piece slide out of the grooves that held it and the door firmly in place, and watched this one flip open. This time, when she yanked the knob, the door swung open.

That was a mistake.

She should have opened it slowly. But as she scanned the long drive in front of her and found nothing, she put another bit of good news together.

That was the kind of lock that could only be locked from the inside. Which meant Sanderswascoming in and out through the kitchen. She turned quickly, pulling the door closed behind her. Stepping out onto a small patio, she felt the ground shoot ice through her feet almost instantly. The cold night air was far chillier than she'd given credit for. She was going to freeze to death out here.

She could deal with warmth later, first she had to get away.

The small house sat in a large open yard.

This one had a cornfield out back, though whether anyone was actively maintaining it she didn’t know enough to tell. There were trees in the distance in several directions, and she hoped they would provide cover once she got there.

Looking for the closest stand, her eyes flicked down the long driveway. Her suit was a pale pink and the moonlight caught it, making her shine like a pastel beacon.

Another mistake.

She was out in the open and anyone could see her. But getting away wasn't a mistake. And right now, there wasn't anyone around. So she crouched low, ignored the pain in her feet, and bolted for the trees.

Seline had covered half of the distance when she heard tires crunch on gravel. Her head whipped back and she saw the headlights swing toward her as the car came up the drive.

Chapter Forty-Four

Kalan jolted around as he heard the front door open behind him.

In walked Ivy Dean, a huge bag thrown over her shoulder, heavy with whatever she’d brought to show them.

Today she wore a long sleeved t shirt and jeans. Sneakers graced her feet, as though she were ready to tackle anything. Not quite the prim librarian getup she usually wore.

“Ivy!” he said, the relief probably coming off him in waves strong enough to bowl her over.

But Ivy didn’t waver. She turned and looked at him. “I'm here, the library's covered or closed. You have me and every resource I have. Let's find her.”

Only then did he realize that a second woman trailed behind her. Taller than Ivy, though not tall, her hair glistened mahogany and something about her t-shirt said it was expensive. But her walk … Kalan knew it from somewhere …

He opened his mouth, but Ivy beat him to the punch. “Oh, this is Jo! She’s new in town—”

“Jo Huston,” the woman interrupted but made it smooth as glass. “Ivy said this might involve an SAR. I’m trained.” She stuck out her hand and offered a firm, reassuring handshake. If she said “SAR” instead of “Search and Rescue” then she probably knew at least something.

Ivy really had brought all the resources.

He could have hugged her right then, but he was afraid if he did, he would crush the petite woman. Instead, the words “Thank you,” gushed from his mouth.

Ivy, small and delicate, pushed her way into the room like a five star general taking over the battle. Pointing to a table that had only a singular laptop on it, she motioned for the space to be cleared for her. Jo and Kalan followed along and even the FBI agents did as she indicated. She probably dealt with school rooms full of unruly children.

She had that stern teacher face on as she set down her bag and began pulling out various books and maps. She reached in again, this time depositing a handful of USBs like playing jacks across the table.

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