her wrists. In seconds, she had him chained. Tugging with an inhuman strength that she knew was pure adrenaline, she dragged him to an old steel furnace, wrapped the chains around it and clicked the lock.
For the first time since this ordeal began, she drew in an easy breath.
Still she couldn’t relax until she found Clarissa.
She turned and hobbled painfully, gratefully away from the creature on the floor. She went through the door and stood in a dreary hallway, noting several closed doors on each side.
“Clarissa?” she shouted. “Where are you?” Holding her breath, Angela listened. No sounds. Undeterred, she opened every door and peered inside—still no Clarissa. Despair filled her. He had lied to her—why had she believed he told the truth? Clarissa was already dead. Oh God, she had failed after all.
A soft, muffled noise hit her ears. Angela held her breath again. Yes, there it was. A voice…saying her name…coming from beneath her. Frantic, her eyes scanned the narrow hallway once more. There, in the shadows. Were those steps? Yes!
As if she had wings instead of badly damaged feet, she flew down the steps and into a small room, similar to the one she had just escaped. Clarissa lay on the gurney, chained. But her eyes were open and she was very much alive.
Swallowing a sob of thanksgiving, Angela ran to her and embraced her, chains and all.
“Oh, thank God. I thought you were dead,” Clarissa said.
“I feared the same thing about you.”
Clarissa looked fearfully behind Angela, as if the fiend might show up at anytime. “Where is he?”
“Chained to the radiator. Dead or just unconscious, I’m not sure…but he can’t get loose”
“Really?” Hope gleamed in Clarissa’s eyes. “I can’t believe this is over.”
“I need to find a phone.”
“I think there’s one in the room above this one. I heard it ring once.”
Angela rattled the chains on the gurney. “Do you know where the keys to these things are?”
“Behind you, hanging from that peg.”
Spotting them, she grabbed them and quickly unlocked the chains. Clarissa sat up slowly, tears flowing down her face. “I can’t believe I’m free.”
Angela held out her hand. “Let’s go make the call together. I’m not letting you out of my sight until we’re out of here.”
Clarissa dropped her feet to the floor, looked down and then gasped.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Horror on her face, Clarissa whispered, “What happened to your feet?”
Agony shot through her, a reminder that she had some major injuries to deal with. She refused to look down. If she didn’t see the damage, she could continue to deny what he had done to her. “Never mind. Let’s go.”
Hand in hand, they walked up the steps together to make the call, ending their nightmare at last.
Jake’s cellphone rang. Pulling it from his pocket, assuming it was an LCR operative or one of the detectives, he answered, “Mallory.”
“Jake?”
He stopped breathing. Could it be? “Angela?”
McCall stiffened beside him and threw him a look of incredulity.
“Oh Jake.” Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper but it was definitely Angela.
“My God, are you all right?” He barely knew what to ask.
“I’ve been better. I’m not really sure where I am. Can you have this call traced? The monster’s name is Derrick Delacourte.”
“Where’s Delacourte now?”
“He’s unconscious and chained to a radiator in the basement. Where are you?”
He looked up at an ivy-covered brick mansion. “Right outside his house.” Before the vehicle came to a stop, Jake was out of the car and running.
Jake was here? Outside the house? It took every ounce of self-control for Angela not to try to make it to the door. Since she would have had to crawl, she decided against it. Besides, her energy reserves were depleted. While she was making the call to Jake, Clarissa had found a raincoat hanging from the peg. And in the coat was the man’s wallet, identifying him as Derrick Delacourte.
And now she was completely spent. Just the simple acts of making the phone call and putting the raincoat on had exhausted her. Both she and Clarissa sat at the bottom of the stairs, waiting.
They heard the door burst open and then Angela heard the most beautiful sound imaginable. “Angela! Where are you?”
“Down here,” she shouted.
Running footsteps headed toward her and then, larger than life, Jake was there. Myriad emotions crossed his face as he reached for her. Unable to stop herself, she tried to stand, lost her balance and fell into his arms. In Jake’s strong embrace, hearing his whispered words of thanksgiving,