Page 82 of The Lady Has a Past

She clanked her way to the dressing table. Methodically she opened drawers. There wasn’t much left inside. She found a couple of tubes of used lipstick. The shades were out of date. There were an empty pack of cigarettes and a book of matches in the center drawer. The matchbook was violet.labyrinth springs hotel & spawas stamped on the cover.

For the first time it occurred to her to wonder what had happened to her clothes and toiletries. The kidnappers must have packed them up. They could hardly afford to leave them in room two twenty-one for the housekeeper to find.

There was a closet at the far end of the bedroom. The doors were closed. There was no way to know if her things were inside.

She sat down on the bed, propped her chained ankle on the opposite knee, and went to work on the manacle with one of the hairpins.

Chapter 37

The rumble of a vehicle in the drive shattered the oppressive silence of the big, empty house. Raina stopped pacing and checked her watch. Panic sparked. It was mid-morning. The drugged food had been delivered hours ago. Why would the kidnappers return now?

The pattern that had been established yesterday had been broken. That was not a good sign. Her plan, such as it was, had been built around what she assumed to be the food delivery schedule.

She heard the door open on the ground floor. Voices. Two men, not one. Another break in the pattern. Yesterday and today the man who had delivered the food had arrived alone and never spoken.

“I’ll get her,” one of the men said. “With luck she’ll be semiconscious or maybe asleep by now because of the rolls and the tea.”

“Hurry,” the other man said. “The boss says they’re looking for her. We can’t take the chance that they’ll find her. We have to get rid of her.”

“No one was supposed to get hurt,” the first man said.

“People have already gotten hurt, in case you haven’t noticed. You think Frampton got into that paraffin bath all by herself? Plans change.”

Yes, they do,Raina thought. She double-checked her preparations. She had freed herself from the manacle. The chain was now arranged on the floor so that it led from the wall ring into the bathroom. She had closed the door as far as possible. The objective was to make it appear that she was making use of the facilities.

She had found her suitcase and handbag in the closet, but of course the pistol and the box of ammunition were gone. The original plan had been to use one of the heavy, gilded picture frames on the deliveryman’s head, grab his keys, and use his car to get as far away as possible.

But now that she knew there was another man downstairs, things were not going to be simple. She needed a distraction.

Footsteps thudded on the stairs.

She went to the dressing table, picked up the matchbook, and struck a light. Her hand was trembling. The match went out almost immediately. She struck another one. The flame steadied.

She touched the burning match to the thin material of the lace sheers on the window. The old fabric caught instantly.

She struck another match and set a different section of the lace alight.

The footsteps were in the hall now.

She picked up the heavy wooden picture frame that she had taken down earlier and flattened herself against the wall behind the door.

The bolt slid aside. The door opened partway. A man moved into the room. He was not wearing a spa mask. Another bad sign. It signaled that he didn’t care if she could identify him.

He paused briefly, focusing on the chain that led into the bathroom. He did not notice the small fire on the other side of the room.

“Come on out of there,” he said. “You’re going home today.”

He started toward the door of the bath. On the far side of the room the curtains abruptly flared. Smoke billowed.

“What the fuck?” His voice rose. “Pete, there’s a fire. Get up here. I need help.”

Raina stepped out from behind the door, raised the picture frame, and slammed the sharp corner against the man’s skull. He went down without so much as a grunt, but the floorboards shuddered. She knew his companion downstairs must have heard the sound.

“Joe? What’s going on up there?” Pete shouted.

Raina crouched beside Joe. He groaned. She debated whether to use the picture frame on him again but quickly decided she couldn’t spare the time.

Footsteps pounded on the staircase. Pete ran down the hall.

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