No One To Trust. Melody Carlson

sound of Krantz yelling kept echoing through her head. At the foot of the stairs, Leah thought she could see a very faint light in the room. As they moved closer, it seemed to be flickering like a flame. Was Krantz going to burn them out? “What’s that?” she asked in alarm. “That light? Where’s it—”

      “It’s okay,” Jon said soothingly. “Just a candle. Not visible outside. There are no windows down here.” He led her around a corner where she was surprised to see a small yellow candle bravely burning in a glass jar in the center of a wooden crate that appeared to be serving as a makeshift coffee table in front of a shabby-looking couch and a couple of wicker chairs.

      “The light’s nice,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t even see it from the stairs.”

      “Good.”

      By the candle’s flickering flame, she could see by the trails of dust that things had been moved around. Probably to make it more comfortable—as if they might be down here awhile. But what if Krantz broke in—and started shooting? Perhaps they should barricade the door, too.

      “Have a seat,” Jon said gently.

      She sat down in a wicker rocker, hugging her arms around her middle and trying to shake off the terror still seeping through her. “I don’t understand why Krantz is so driven. He really sounded as if he plans to break in here—as if he wants to kill us.”

      “Well, if he does, the alarm will go off.”

      “The alarm?” she asked hopefully.

      “Yeah. My parents’ security system. But it might not help much...since it’s the police department in town that will be notified. And Krantz might end up fielding that call for them.”

      “And he’d tell them it was a false alarm,” she surmised.

      “Probably.” Jon reached for a metal baseball bat leaning against a cardboard box. He swung it up, smacking it into his open palm as if it were a weapon—and not just a youth’s toy. He pointed the bat to a small “arsenal” of other random pieces. A plumbing wrench, a long metal pole, several large kitchen knives, some lengths of rope and a roll of wire, along with several other slightly threatening-looking pieces. He must’ve collected them while she was cleaning up. But, really, she couldn’t see how they’d be much use against Krantz.

      “In case we need to defend ourselves,” he said apologetically as he set the bat down. “Hopefully we won’t.”

      “Hopefully.” She shuddered to imagine using those “weapons” to ward off real firearms or even a SWAT team. Even if Krantz was a lousy shot, he could hit them eventually. Or one of his buddies would.

      “I can’t think of any reason Krantz would focus only on this house,” Jon said. “My guess is he’s just hitting up every house along this road. He’s probably pounding on every door, just hoping to see or hear something that reveals our whereabouts. He’s probably hoping he’ll get Ralph to bark—to give us away.”

      “Speaking of Ralph, where is he?” she said suddenly. “Why wasn’t he barking?”

      “I put a tranquilizer in his food while you were cleaning up. He chowed down and passed out within minutes.” He pointed to a crate where Ralph was nestled in an old army blanket. “Poor guy was exhausted. He probably didn’t even need the pill, but we won’t take any chances. And I’ve got another one already mixed into some dog food just in case he wakes.”

      “Good.” Leah let out a long sigh, willing herself to relax. “This all feels so crazy and unreal—like we just got pulled into some weird crime TV show.”

      “I know. I keep trying to figure it all out. Kind of makes my head hurt. And more than figuring it out, I want to figure a way out. I’m just not sure what it is.” He explained how he’d been working on his car the past couple of days. “So it’s not running at the moment.” He shared the other various plans that he’d been concocting, but they all had fatal flaws.

      “But can’t we fix your car?” she asked. “I mean, we’d have to wait until the cop cars stop patrolling in order to drive safely out of here, but—”

      “My carburetor is in about a hundred pieces,” he said glumly. “It was having problems on the trip down here. I thought I’d be clever and fix it myself.” He explained how he and his dad had torn apart and reassembled numerous cars over the years. “It didn’t seem like a big deal...at the time. And it’s not, except that it’ll take hours to put it all back together.”

      “How long?” she asked eagerly. “What if we go work on it now? Maybe I can help.”

      “We’d need to cover all the windows in the garage to keep light from going out—that alone might look suspicious. And even if it went smoothly, it could take all night. Even then, I’m not sure it would work. Some of the pieces looked pretty worn. I was going to call in to town to see if I could get some parts delivered out here.”

      “Your phone,” she said. “It works here?”

      “Not in the house. I have to go climb up onto this rock—it’s about a quarter mile down the road—just to get one bar, and even that’s dicey if the weather is bad.”

      “Oh.” She pursed her lips. “But we could do that, couldn’t we? We could go try your phone... I mean, if the cop cars aren’t parked out there.”

      “Yes.” He nodded slowly. “We could. And I’m thinking we should call the state police first. But only when we know it’s safe to get to the rock. It’s kind of exposed to the road.” He pointed to some food on the makeshift table with the candle. “Maybe we should eat something first. Just to fortify ourselves...you know, for whatever lies ahead.” He handed her a box of rye crackers as he cut some slices of cheese. “Sorry there’s not much to choose from. I just grabbed what was handy.”

      “And you’re certain no one knows you’re here in this house?” she asked as she helped herself to an apple and bit into it. “No neighbors or anyone who could help?”

      “Pretty certain. Ralph and I got here on Saturday—the same day we spotted you running on the beach.” He shook his head. “Here I was kicking myself for not getting your name...and now here you are stuck with me.”

      She made a weak smile. “I don’t mind being stuck with you.” She just wished the circumstances were different. “So no one saw you coming or going here?”

      “I got groceries on my way here,” he explained. “Then I parked my car in the garage. And other than walking on the beach—and I always use the back door for that—I haven’t left the house.”

      “You say this is your parents’ house—do they know you’re here? Any chance they could help somehow?” She reached for a piece of cheese.

      “They’re on a two-week cruise to celebrate their fortieth anniversary.”

      “Sounds nice.” She sighed.

      “How about you?” he asked. “Will anyone notice you’re missing?”

      She shrugged. “Probably not... Not for a while anyway.”

      “Did anyone know where you went to run?”

      “I mentioned I was going running to a friend at work. But I didn’t say where.” She frowned. “Stupid... I know.”

      “And there’s no one who’d go out looking for you? No husband or boyfriend? No roommate?”

      She peered curiously at him. It almost felt as if he were fishing. “No,” she said firmly. “No husband. No boyfriend. My life’s been pretty busy the past couple of years. No time for that sort of thing.”

      “Right.”

      “But I do live with my great-aunt.”

      “So she’ll know you’re missing?” he asked hopefully.

      “Probably