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She’d worked for hours, and the hole still wasn’t large enough to squeeze through. Although exhausted, September couldn’t let herself rest. The sleeping bag shrugged around her shoulders fended off the worst of the cold, and sunlight filtering through chinks in the boards offered work light for a while.
But now the sun had set, and she feverishly worked by feel, trying to conserve the batteries in the penlight. She feared Victor had drugged the thermos, but thirst and a threatening migraine forced her to risk one cup of strong coffee. It tasted fine, and the caffeine held her headache at bay. Not knowing how long she’d be trapped, though, she saved the rest for later. That also reduced the need for bucket use, a vulnerable experience she didn’t want to repeat.
Victor had said he’d be back tonight. She had no time to waste.
September leaned on the endpin, and the third board gave way with a satisfying crack. She moved it aside and shooed Macy out of the way. He wanted to push his face into the hole.
“Yes, I know, smells lovely.” She wrinkled her nose at the pungent aroma, but Macy purred with delight. “Big enough for you to get through, anyway. Gotta hope the exit out the other end will let your fluffiness out, too.”
She couldn’t stop revisiting the what-ifs that brought her to this place. If she hadn’t insisted on leaving home at sixteen. If she’d blown the whistle on Victor right away. If Chris hadn’t thought he could save her. And if she hadn’t bought the stupid lottery ticket.
To Chris, the windfall meant they could start a family, no more excuses. The thought of a baby terrified her, and nearly prompted a panic attack. After a horrible fight, Chris stormed out with Dakota while she wept into Macy’s fur. An hour passed. Then another hour. She called his cell and the police answered. And she knew, even before they told her about the blue flowers scattered over Chris and Dakota’s bodies. No chance to apologize. No way to explain. She never got to say goodbye.
She dropped the cello endpin to fist the tears from her eyes. Wishing the past away wouldn’t change the present. But by damn, she’d decide her own future.
September pushed one arm and shoulder through the opening, gingerly followed by her head. While by no means overweight, the opening barely accommodated her shoulders. It’d take at least one more board width to allow her hips to pass. She shined the penlight and the beam lasered the crawl space, stopped by wooden planks on all sides.
“Oh, no. There must be a way out.” What she’d thought to be the exit instead was the hollow of a stair step.
Macy head-butted her thigh, and September raked the light one more time around the perimeter of the enclosure, this time at the juncture of dirt floor and planking.
“There! Thank God.” A small cone of excavated dirt marked entry to a tunnel originating beneath the stair. The wood was solid but the nails rusty and loose, and the critters had burrowed underneath. Macy would easily fit through. And if she could get one more board pried loose and squirm the rest of the way into the crawl space, September could kick out the rickety step and also escape.
She heard somebody.
“Kitty, here kitty kitty kitty.” The nest under the floor muffled the high-pitched voice.
September froze, and then scrambled to pull herself out of the hole. Sounded like a kid. But what was a child doing here?
“Hope, I got treats for you. Are you here?”
What to do? Could the child get her out?
Macy chirruped and then gave a long, drawn out meeerow in response to the “treat” word. Crap!
“Hope!” Footsteps pattered closer.
Decision made for her, September stood, flipping the carpet back over the hole to keep Macy from diving through too soon. “Hello! I’m in here.” She crossed the door and pulled, rattled and then banged on it. “I’m trapped, can you let me out?” Macy yowled again, and the footsteps paused.
“What are you doing in there?” The child came to the other side of the door. “There’s a lock. It’s a new one, wasn’t here before. Sort of like the ones on my school locker, but without the combo dial.”
“A padlock.” Damn, no way to get past that without bolt cutters. “Before? You come here a lot? Do your parents know?” September’s heart raced. “Here’s what I need you to do. What’s your name?”
“Nikki.” The little girl hesitated. “I come to feed the cats. Is Hope-Kitty with you? The TV guy said Mr. Felch went away, so there’d be nobody to take care of her. She’s a big cat, and I think some of her kittens are still here, too.”
“My name is September.”
Nikki laughed. “Like the month?”
“Yes, exactly like the month. Listen to me carefully, Nikki. I need you to find an adult and tell them about me.”
There was a long silence. “I’m not supposed to be here. I sneaked off from my brother, and Mom’ll get mad if she finds out. I’ll get in trouble.” She sounded miserable. “Mom’s allergic to cats.”
“Please! You have to get help before . . .” She hesitated. Telling the girl about Victor might scare her so much she wouldn’t tell anyone. Macy cried again. “That’s Macy. He’s sick. I know you love cats, so you’d be helping him, too.”
“How’d you get stuck in there, anyway?” It sounded like Nikki pulled on the padlock.
“Never mind, that’s not important. Isn’t there anyone you could tell? Maybe your brother?”
Nikki didn’t say anything, and Macy meowed again and pawed the door. “I’m sorry your kitty is sick,” she said, her voice small. “I guess I could tell Hank. He’s my brother.”
September switched off the penlight to conserve the batteries. The room plunged back into darkness. “Nikki? Do you have a light out there? How’d you see the padlock?”
“My cell phone.” Nikki held it up to a crack in the door. “But it goes out and I gotta keep pushing the refresh.”
“Nikki! Call 911, call the police. You know how to do that? Tell them September is locked in the barn. You don’t even have to give your name, so you won’t get in trouble or anything. Call them—”
“Hey, somebody’s coming. A car pulled up.” Nikki stepped away from the door, and the light from her phone shut off. “It’s a man.” She sounded relieved. “Betcha he can get that lock off.”
“Nikki, no! Run, please run!”
Oh, God. Why hadn’t she sent the girl away immediately? That had to be Victor.
Nikki screamed.
