Man's Best Friend (The Dogmothers #5) - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,111

up there. With Judah. She took a millisecond to think through the best course of action, then pulled her phone out of the pocket of her dress to call 911.

She turned and tiptoed down to the landing, blinking as the camera app on her phone flashed to indicate movement in Granddaddy’s room. She tapped the icon, and the image opened, the camera angle locked on the bed, of course.

But the angle was enough to see some nightstand drawers had been opened, and she could hear someone yanking at dresser drawers now. What the hell was he doing up there?

Judah started barking.

“Shut up!” the man yelled. “Unless you ate the damn lighter! Did you?”

Ate the…lighter? Why would he be looking for a lighter? She couldn’t answer that, but the voice was familiar enough that she knew exactly who it was—exactly who she’d suspected.

She tapped to her keypad to call for help, but as she did, she heard footsteps crossing Grandaddy’s room. If he came this way, he’d see her. And if Judah heard or smelled her…

Swallowing, she started to run down the rest of the stairs as Judah’s barking got louder. He was coming this way. Straight down these steps.

She had seconds to decide what to do. Try to make a run for it, or…she looked down. Hide in the hole.

Without a second’s hesitation, she leaned over, grabbed the tiny handle that few people even knew was in the floor, flipped the latch, and yanked up the door. In a flash, she scrambled down, pulled the door over her head, and rolled into a ball in the complete darkness.

She heard footsteps right overhead, followed by the slap of Judah’s distinctive paws. Poor guy, following this jerk around hoping for love and getting told to shut up.

James Bell wouldn’t hurt Judah, would he?

The thought sent a shot of horror through her, making her push the door up, her fingers pressed against cold metal. She lifted it about an inch, peering right into big brown eyes.

Oh God. Judah.

Instantly, he pawed at the wood, pushing it down, followed by a series of noisy barks and one long, loud howl.

Stop, Judah! Don’t let him know I’m here!

She bit her lip, forcing herself not to lift the wood and try to quiet the dog. That would only make him more worked up than he already was. Bell didn’t want the dog. He wanted a lighter.

Why?

She tapped her phone, the light spilling out over the tiny basement-like space. It wasn’t very deep, really meant to store food for the winter, and it sure was cold. Would he hear her voice when she called 911, or would he be gone by then? She had to get help before he got off the property and could deny the whole thing.

She angled the light to the ceiling right above her head, surprised to see the bronze glint of copper. God only knew why those Victorians would line this space with copper, probably to keep it freezing, but…

Copper.

Shoot. Would she even be able to make a call? She tried tapping 911, but nothing happened. The Wi-Fi signal, never the best in this house, was flat. And she had no cell service, either.

Judah was still barking and pawing at the floor, so she waited a minute and then pushed the floorboards again. This time, the copper-covered wood wouldn’t move.

“Hey,” she murmured, shoving a little harder. Damn it! Judah must have bumped the latch and locked her in. With no Wi-Fi or cell signal. Seriously?

He was smart, but not smart enough to undo the latch. Right overhead, he barked and growled and howled in frustration.

And then she heard a crash. What was that? She pushed again, a low-grade desperation growing from the eerie sound of glass breaking. What did Bell do? How long would she be down here until someone heard her?

She stopped pushing for a moment, tried the phone again, then slowly lowered it to think.

But all she could do was…smell. Something pungent and unpleasant. One of the oil lamps?

Kerosene?

Was he setting the house on fire?

She pushed again with all her strength. “Judah! Judah! Get out of the house and get help!”

But all he did was howl in panic, echoing exactly how she felt.

* * *

Declan broke a few speed limits on his way to Gloriana House, but he had enough time to put some puzzle pieces together. Some fit, some didn’t. But he saw enough of the picture to suspect James Bell wasn’t who he said he was. Without a phone,