Carole skirted the lit paths and crept toward the house. If she could find her car, she’d have a chance to escape. The diagram would help her locate the garage, but she needed light to read it. In her mind she pictured Win’s drawing, looked up at the well-lit mansion, angled to the left and up.
From the top of the hill a dog barked, then another. Carol stopped and waited for another sound. If security had released guard dogs, she was in big trouble. But, she reasoned, if dogs were running loose, then Win wouldn’t have taken her for the walk. She figured the dogs would be released only if there was a security problem, and the grounds’ security could not possibly know Win was unconscious in a boat and that she was plotting her getaway. Or could they? Suppose the drug had not worked well on Win and he’d awakened and called them.
At the sound of a man’s voice a few feet away, she jerked to a stop and squatted behind a thick Nandina bush. Peeping through the branches, she saw the man silhouetted against the dimly lit steps.
“Any sign of ‘em?” the man called.
“Nope,” said an answering voice near the lake. “I’ll check the waterfront. Has anybody searched the stables and tennis courts?”
“They’re checking now. Want me to turn the Dobermans loose?”
Normally unafraid of dogs, Carole was terrified. Being ripped to pieces by a pack of killer Doberman pinschers didn’t appeal to her. Momentary relief spread over her when one of the men hollered to the other.
“Naw, not yet. If you see him, tell him to call his mom. According to the bartender, I don’t think Mr. Ford would appreciate being disturbed right now.”
Whew, saved by the bartender, thought Carole. She stayed hidden for fifteen minutes until the voices stopped and the dogs no longer barked. With the lights from the mansion guiding her, she inched her way around bushes and flowerbeds until she reached the left side of the house. Hearing faint sounds of music from inside, she peeped in a first floor window. In the ballroom, a small band played while couples danced to the Latin rhythm. She ducked when a man stared in her direction.
On the other side of the house, she pulled out her crude map and studied it. Judging by the direction the valet had driven her car, a monstrous garage should be to the right. She turned the corner of the house and stopped short. The garage she sought loomed straight ahead. Spotlights flooded the detached, six-bay building. No shrubbery grew near it. How could she manage to get inside without being seen?
Carole decided to work her way to the back of the building, see if there were other entrances and less chance of someone catching her. Keeping close to the ground, she reached the rear.
Three more garage doors faced her. Two regular three-foot wide doors flanked the garage doors. To the side of each was a window. Carole reasoned that behind one door was an office; the other probably contained an apartment or automotive shop. Because a light shone from one window, she sneaked toward the other door. The door opened and two men stepped outside.
Carole darted around the corner of the building, flattened her body against the wall. She held her breath and prayed the men wouldn’t come her way. She heard voices, the strike of a match. The men laughed and walked off in the other direction. Carole smelled marijuana. She forced herself not to cough.
Peeking around the building, she saw no one. Silently she moved to the door and tried the doorknob. When it turned in her hand, she nearly yelled for joy. Holding her breath, she stepped inside almost total darkness. There was a faint light. She waited until her eyes adjusted, then walked across the room and looked through a glass-topped door into a huge room. Dim bare-bulb lights dangled from the ceiling. She guessed this was the garage she sought. Now if she could find her car before someone found her.
Carole crept past a silver Rolls-Royce, two stretch limousines, a black Corvette, and a yellow Ferrari. Nice cars, but they didn’t look nearly as fine to her as did her ordinary car when she found it behind the Ferrari in the last bay closest to a garage door. She figured she and Win must have been the last to arrive.
How would she get her car out? And were the keys in it? She opened the car door, slid in the driver’s seat and reached around to the ignition. Hallelujah! The keys were there. Now she needed to open the garage door. But how?
The dim ceiling lights suddenly grew brighter. A door slammed. Carole climbed in the back seat and onto the floor. She reached for her .22, pulled it out.
“Whatcha reckon he needs the Ferrari for this late at night?” asked one of the men.
“Don’t know. Don’t care so long as I git paid for doing what I’m told and keepin’ my mouth shut. Like not telling his wife he’s headin’ to Rock Bottom for a couple hours. Now open the door and move the crappy car so I can back out the Ferrari.”
Crappy car? thought Carole. They have some nerve. She scrunched her body against the floor in the back and prayed.
Carole heard the garage door roll up. Her car door opened, a man got in the driver’s seat, started the car, and backed out. The Ferrari followed.
“Might as well leave Crappy out, make it easier on us when Ferrari comes back.”
Yes! Please! thought Carole.
Minutes later Carole was alone. Outside. In her own car with the keys. A faint sickie-sweet marijuana scent hit her as she crept back in the driver’s seat. She scrunched down and waited until the inside garage lights dimmed, counted to 500, sat up and turned the keys in the ignition.