The Woman in the Trunk - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,72
time in my entire life.
Yeah, that seemed worth all the risk.
Decision made, I hid my makeshift lock picks just in case someone came in, and I set to eating my candy bar, but spitting out the peanuts, piling them on the floor, then crushing them under the heel of my shoe into a fine powder before scooping the dust up and hiding it in the candy bar wrapper, shoving that in the toe of my shoe before tucking them a few feet away again.
Then I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Arturo came home, went upstairs, the guard ordered the food on his way back outside. Then, finally, the house quieted down.
On the other side of the door, Brio seemed to be watching something on his phone, some show or movie with a lot of gunshots and yelling.
Good cover sounds.
I reached for my shoes with a sort of calmness washing over me. I guess this was what they talked about when people did incredibly dangerous things but for a good cause, how they never even thought twice about it.
I sure as hell didn't as I freed my wrists, struggling a bit with my leg shackle because I was trying not to make too much noise.
But it gave, and something inside of me fizzled with actual excitement as I carefully placed it down, reaching for the wrapper full of peanuts, folding it carefully, and tucking it between my lips.
Standing up made my body hiss in objection after being in a cramped position for so long, but I ignored it as I inched across the cold floor, making my way toward the door to the other side, using my little lock pick set to unlock the door, cringing as it clicked. But on the finished side of the basement, there was some sort of shootout taking place on Brio's phone, covering the noise as I slipped to the other side, carefully closing the door.
This side of the basement was what I expected. The furnace, hot water heater, piles of discarded cardboard boxes, wilting in the dampness.
And, yes, a window.
Without bars.
Adrenaline coursed through me, making me feel like I was buzzing as I moved around the dark space, looking for something to stand on, nearly laughing in relief when I found a freaking step ladder.
A step ladder.
In a room with a window.
I guess Arturo was so cocky that he never thought anyone could get as far as I did. Maybe he had reason to be that confident, because no one ever had.
But I guess he hadn't really pissed off a woman enough before.
I placed the step ladder, then reached up, carefully pulled open the window, looking out into the small backyard for a minute, making sure no guards were around, then clamping my lips harder around the wrapper, and hauling myself out.
My arms were shaking, my body sweating, excitement, fear, and exhaustion a strange concoction in my system.
It felt like it took forever.
But it was all over in maybe two minutes.
And I was out.
A part of me wanted to make a run for it.
But the backyard was fenced on three sides. And the only way out was down the side and past the guards. Even if they weren't the fastest of guys, I was pretty sure they could get me, could haul me back. And then I didn't want to think about how Arturo would make me pay, and ensure that I could never get away again.
So I crab-walked toward the back window, glancing in, then taking a steadying breath, heading inside.
Silence.
Save for Brio's phone that I could hear even a floor above. If he heard movement above him, he would just figure it was Arturo or one of the other guys.
I had no idea what Arturo consumed aside from the whiskey he drank and the food he had ordered in.
But there was one thing that was true of the father as well as the son.
He started the day with coffee.
Decision made, I went over to the coffee maker, finding that Arturo, again like Lorenzo, made up the pot the night before, so it would brew before he got up.
The fresh grinds were in the filter.
Almost giddy with excitement, I shook the peanut dust into the grinds, mixing them up a little in case someone decided to check the machine—which seemed unlikely, but, apparently, plotting murder made one paranoid.
Finished, I tucked the wrapper back into my mouth, not wanting anyone to see it, to suspect anything since it likely shouldn't have been in the house at all.