She was panting, laughing. “I did it!”
“What, Corey? For God’s sake, what did you do?”
“My hands are now tied in front of me, Thomas. Thank heaven they left enough leeway between me and the wall. The rope around my waist was higher than the rope tying my wrists together. Now, I’m going to turn around and untie the rope around my waist. When I’m free, I can do my feet and then get to you guys.”
“Corey,” Quinlan said, “if you get us out of this, both Thomas and I will recommend that you become the special agent in charge of the Portland field office. Right, Thomas?”
“If she gets out us out of this, I’ll beg her to marry me and be the SAC.”
“Thomas, you’re a sexist. I won’t ever marry a sexist.”
“Corey, how are you doing?” Quinlan said.
“It’s coming. The knot at my waist is pretty easy.”
“Good. Just hurry.”
But how much time did they have left before the old folk came for them? Where was Sally? Quinlan hadn’t prayed much in his life, but he was praying now. Did Amabel have her?
“Got it! Now let me get my feet.”
“Oh, shit, I hear something,” Thomas said. “Hurry, Corey, hurry!”
“Don’t hit her, Amory!”
Amabel grabbed his arm, jerking it away. It slammed against the bed just an inch from Sally’s ribs.
He was panting. He wheeled about, his fist raised. “You shouldn’t have done that, Ammie. You shouldn’t have done it.”
Sally reared up, yelling, “Don’t you dare hit her, you fucking cretin!”
But he did, his fist hard against Amabel’s jaw, knocking her against the wall. She slid down to the floor.
Sally didn’t say a word. She was staring at her aunt, praying she wasn’t dead.
“How could you?” She stared up at the man who had to be mad. “You’re lovers. She called to tell you I was here so you could come and get me. You hit her just like you hit Noelle.”
“Actually,” he said, rubbing his knuckles, “it’s the first time I’ve ever had to discipline her. She won’t go against me in the future now. I wonder how her skin will bruise.”
No blinding light came through the door as it creaked open-just a tiny bit, then wider until all \hree of them could see the stars and the half moon.
“You awake in here?” It was an old man’s voice. Which one of them? Quinlan wondered. Was there just one of them come to check on their prisoners, or more? God, he prayed it was just the one old man.
“It ain’t quite morning yet, but you should be awake.” “Yeah,” Thomas said, “we’re awake. What? You hoped you’d killed us?”
“Nah, there weren’t enough of that stuff Doc had on hand to put your lights out. It would have been easier that way, though. Now, well, it ain’t going to be any fun.”
Quinlan nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Corey whimper. “Oh, please, I don’t feel well. Please take me to a bathroom. Please.” She was moaning quietly, very effectively.
“Oh, shit,” the old man said. “It’s just you, little gal?” “Yes,” Corey managed to choke out. “Please, hurry.” “All right. Damn, I didn’t expect any of you to be sick. Nobody was ever sick before.”
Corey was slumped over, straight ahead of the old guy, against the back wall. The old man opened the door wider as he came into the shed. Quinlan recognized Purn Davies, the old coot who owned the general store. He saw that Corey had her hands behind her back, as if they were still tied there.
“Please hurry,” she whispered. She sounded godawful, like she would puke at any moment. Quinlan looked at Thomas and shook his head. Just as Purn Davies passed Quinlan, he whipped up his feet and kicked the old man on his thighs, knocking him right onto Corey’s lap.
“Gotcha!” Corey said. When the old man began to struggle, she raised her fists and knocked him cold. “Well done, Corey,” Thomas said. “You sure you won’t marry me? What if I promise to change?”
“Ask me again if we get out of this alive,” she said. “Okay, guys, I’m going to untie Quinlan’s wrists, then yours, Thomas. Keep an eye on the old man.”