Page 109 of Deathmarch
“Lynn? She died shortly after the older son was in that accident. She had breast cancer. Sad thing was, she was recovering. But after that boy died, her firstborn and like that, so suddenly, I always thought she just lost her will to live.”
Dead end after dead end after dead end.But his mother wasn’t to blame, so Harper kept the frustration out of his tone as he asked, “Call me if you remember anything else, all right? Especially about the part-timers that worked there. I’m looking for a list of everyone who’s ever done a job for Donovan. Everyone who installed safes for him.”
Becausethatwas who else knew Lamm’s safe’s location. The guy who’d installed it. That was the clue Harper had missed.
“I’ll ask your father,” his mother said. “Just talked to him a minute ago. He’s packing. He’ll be on the first flight back home tomorrow. He wants to help.”
“Let me know if he remembers anything about the Donovans.”
Then Mike came on. “The techs triangulated the kidnapper’s phone at the time of contact. Call was made from the middle of a damn cornfield. Guess where? Call originated near where Allie ran into the ditch the night of the murder. Kennan and Murph are already on their way to check the place out, but they don’t expect much. Kidnapper’s probably long gone. I doubt they’ll find more than a smashed burner phone.”
“All right. Thanks.” If there was anything in that cornfield to find, Murph and Kennan were the ones to find it. Neither man missed a thing. Harper grabbed onto that faint glimmer of hope and held tight.
“Hey, your mom says if you need to figure out who works for a company, you can look at their payroll records.”
Bingo.
“Tell Mom I love her.” Harper hung up, knowing exactly where he was going next.
Payroll.
Who had a list of employees at the bar, going back to day one? His parents. Except Donovan was gone. If, God forbid, something ever happened to Harper’s parents and he had to find old payroll records, where would he go? Their accountant.
Because his parents did run a business and so did half their friends, Harper happened to know that three professional accountants handled most of the small businesses in town. Claire Lee, the one who did Finnegan’s taxes, had a home office. Harper had been there once with his father. Might as well start with her, since he knew exactly where she lived.
* * *
Allie picked up the sharpened can lid. Instead of trying for the window again, she went to the stairs and stood to the side of the door that led into the house, then waited, still shaking.
The next time the kidnapper came out, she would attack.
He hadn’t shot her in the back of the truck. He’d just cursed her out, then gone back inside, maybe to have another beer. Hehaddecided to kill her. She’d seen the dark resolution in his eyes. He was just working up the guts.
I didn’t set out to kill anyone,he’d said. He’d either killed Lamm by accident, or in the heat of the moment. He needed to find courage to deal with Allie. And then he’d be back.
Her only chance was to act before he did. As soon as he came back, as soon as he stepped through that door, she was going to jump him. If one of them had to die in the damn garage, it wasn’t going to be her.
She gripped the metal lid, breathing hard. Too hard. She was gasping for air. He would hear her on the other side before he opened the door.
Slow breath in. Hold. Slow breath out.
Several seconds passed before she succeeded.
No footsteps inside. The door didn’t open.
Maybe he’d had that additional beer boost and fallen asleep. Allie waited for his return for a full hour before she gave up.
She searched the garage for a tool she might use on the window, but she didn’t find anything. Not much there other than more paint cans and a couple of brushes. She sorted through those and found what she identified by smell as paint thinner in a jar.
She could set a fire.Ifshe had matches. Andifshe didn’t think she’d be the one to burn first.
She rifled through a pile of rags between the cans and the wall and nearly walked away just as her fingers brushed against something metal.
A screwdriver.
Thank God,thank Godfor that.
She could have kissed the damn thing as she hobbled around the truck, back to the window, carrying hope in her hands. She blessed whoever had painted the house and left the tool behind. Then she went to work.
