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WITH LUKE IN the lead and Angie at the rear, the five of us filed out of the master bedroom and down the hall to the room where Amelia had been. The television was still on, although there was no sound. The headphones lay forgotten on the bedspread.
A narrow opening in the wall next to the closet revealed a set of stairs leading to a lower level. At Angie’s prompting, we descended into a large room lit by strategically placed track lights. A large river rock fireplace with gas logs took up a portion of one wall. Two leather wingback chairs with side tables flanked the fireplace, positioned to get the maximum view of the artwork. The room temperature was cool, telling me that no one had been down here for a while.
There were at least thirty paintings on the walls, each with a spotlight aimed at it, perfectly illuminating the modern masterpieces. I recognized the signatures of artists from an art history class I’d taken. The thought that after tonight I would never get to see another painting flashed through my mind.
Angie let out a low whistle as she perused the art. Her eyes bright, she turned to Amelia. “And you’re absolutely certain these aren’t forgeries?”
“Mick wouldn’t have allowed it,” Amelia said woodenly. Judging by her expression, she was in shock.
“Excellent. Luke, you take them down, and Amelia will bring them here.” She walked over to the far corner of the room, beckoning us to join her. “Eve, you and Kate remove the canvases and put them in a pile here on the floor. Carefully, of course.”
As Eve and I waited for the first of the paintings, I systematically went through my options. Angie had her gun, my gun, and a knife, which put the rest of us at an obvious disadvantage. Escaping up the stairs wouldn’t work. Angie would shoot anyone attempting to escape, and then probably shoot whoever else she didn’t ultimately need. Right now it was convenient to have us do the drudge work.
Which meant there wasn’t much time.
There weren’t any windows or a back door, leaving the stairs as the only way out. I’d have to create a diversion so that Angie would be focused on something other than me or the stairs.
When Luke had a hard time removing a large de Kooning, Angie took off her jacket and draped it over the back of one of the chairs and went to help. The hilt of Darwin’s knife poked out from one of the pockets.
“You know Angie only needs Luke to get off this island, right?” I whispered to Eve, making sure Angie couldn’t hear our conversation.
She nodded. “What can we do?” she mouthed. “No gun.”
I nodded toward Angie’s coat and the knife. Eve shook her head. “Too risky.”
Amelia picked up a midsize painting and started toward us.
“We need a distraction. Think we can trust Amelia?”
Eve glanced at Angie, who was helping Luke lower the painting to the floor.
“Maybe.”
Amelia leaned the painting she was carrying against a nearby wall and turned to go back for the de Kooning when I touched her arm.
She hesitated a moment.
In a low voice I said, “We need you to distract Angie.”
Without turning she gave a quick nod and walked back to where Angie and Luke had successfully lowered the larger painting to the floor. I kept an eye on the three of them, waiting for her to do something as Eve and I worked on the canvas.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Amelia had almost made it to where Angie and Luke were standing when she tripped and fell. Her arms flailed as she grabbed for something to steady herself. That something was the de Kooning. Both she and the priceless painting crashed to the floor. Angie’s cry of horror and subsequent leap forward to try to save the painting was my cue to move. With Angie’s back to me, I quickly crossed the room to the fireplace, searching the firebox for the gas valve. A flat metal handle jutted out from the ceramic logs on the right side. I didn’t see the telltale flame of a pilot light, which I assumed was powered by a wall thermostat. I grabbed hold of the valve and twisted it wide open. The stench of garlic-laced propane hit me and began to fill the room.
I glanced at Angie who was inspecting the de Kooning for damage, and started back to join Eve. Angie’s coat lay enticingly close, but I didn’t dare take the time to grab the knife.
Good thing I didn’t.
“What are you doing, Kate, honey?”
I froze, halfway across the room, heart pounding in my chest.
“I—I thought you might need help, but I see now that you’ve got it under control.” I continued back to my spot next to Eve and turned to look at her. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion and cut a glance to her coat, then my hands. Unaware that I’d been clenching my fists, I flexed my fingers to show her I wasn’t carrying anything. She frowned but appeared to let it slide. Relieved, I knelt to help Eve remove the backing of the painting she was working on.
“Whatever you do, don’t turn on or off any lights, and be ready to move,” I murmured. Eve nodded and we bent to our task.
A short time later, Angie stopped what she was doing, lifted her head, and sniffed the air.
“What the hell—?”
I did the same and was rewarded with the distinct odor of garlic-scented propane. The gas, at first heavier than the available oxygen, had filled the room and was now obvious. Angie’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline as she searched the room, her gaze landing on the fireplace.
“Shit.” Her face a mask of cold fury, she started for the stairs. “Grab as many paintings as you can,” she snapped at Luke. She elbowed her way past Amelia, who dropped the artwork she’d been holding. Angie whirled on her, pulling out her .45. Amelia shrank back at the sight of the semiauto.
“Don’t shoot!” I was on my feet in a flash, holding my hands out in an attempt to stop her from discharging her gun. “One shot and the room blows,” I said as I edged closer to the stairway. Eve followed my lead.
Angie gave me a look that could freeze a nuclear blast. “Well, isn’t that just dandy?” She turned back to Amelia. “Looks like you get to live a few more minutes.” She pushed Amelia backward onto the floor, then grabbed her coat off the chair and shoved her gun into Luke’s back.
“You first,” she said. His face pale, Luke started toward the exit.
I’d almost made it to the top of the steps. Eve raced past me and through the door as I turned to block Angie and Luke’s way, my hand on the light switch. Angie scowled but paused on the stair, the .45 aimed at Luke’s head.
“Give me the gun, Angie.”
“What are you going to do? If I don’t pass, then neither does Luke or Amelia. You don’t want to be responsible for their deaths, do you?”
“Give. Me. The. Gun,” I repeated, and held out my hand.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll flip the light switch and blow the room.”
She gave me a look that said either she didn’t believe I’d go through with it, or she didn’t think flipping the switch would work.
I wasn’t exactly sure, either. In theory, the sparks from the contacts in the light switch could set off the propane now filling the stairwell. Hell, sparks from the static cling of a polyester shirt had been known to set it off. All I needed was for her to think there might be a possibility that the spark from the contacts in the switch would be enough to ignite the propane.
“Now, Kate. After all the time we spent together don’t you think I know you? You’d rather die than be responsible for ending an innocent life. Last time I checked,” she nodded at Luke and then at Amelia, who stood on the stairs behind her, “these two didn’t do anything wrong, other than being accessories to a little breaking and entering.”
When I didn’t respond, she turned as though to look behind her and then swung back with the coat in her hand. I punched at the fabric as Angie shoved Luke away from her and into me. I lost my balance, and Luke and I landed hard on the stairs. Luke rolled off of me just as Angie reared back, her leg raised for a kick, but I moved in time and she hit air. I grabbed her ankle and gave her foot a fierce twist.
Arms flailing, Angie slammed against the wall with a grunt, but recovered and launched herself past me. I flipped onto my hands and knees, grabbed her leg, and yanked her backward. She fell face first onto the stairs but immediately raised herself onto her elbows. With a vicious kick, she freed her leg from my grasp and sprang up the stairs. As I started up the steps to go after her, something cold and hard pressed into my palm.
Darwin’s knife. I glanced behind me. Luke had Angie’s coat. He’d found the dagger in her coat pocket and put it in my hand. I closed my fingers around the hilt.
Angie was ready for me. As I neared her position at the top of the stairs, she pivoted and her hand crashed down on my wrist in an iron grip, numbing the nerve running from elbow to hand. I might have let go of the knife if I hadn’t expected the move. Angie had shown it to me in module six.
She tried to wrest the weapon free, but I countered with my other hand, just the way she’d taught me, grabbing the knife as close to the hilt as I could, and wrenched it from her grasp. The sting of the cut and slickness of the blood on the inside of my palm barely registered. Without thinking, I thrust the knife at her, aiming for the waist. The first try glanced off her ribcage. She twisted her torso to get out of reach. I lunged forward, and the second try scored a softer target. I buried the blade as deep as it would go. Angie grunted in pain as she pummeled me, trying to loosen my grip in an attempt to pull it out. When it was obvious that wouldn’t work, she headbutted me and knocked me backward. I staggered down the stairwell before Amelia stopped my descent and pushed me back up the stairs.
Moments later I burst through the open doorway and raced through the guest bedroom as Angie’s slender form disappeared down the hallway. The stench of gas was strong. We needed to get far away from the house or there wouldn’t be anything left to ID the bodies.
“Everybody—run!” I yelled.
The farther we got from the gas leak, the more likely it was that Angie would use her gun. I checked my pace and followed the intermittent blood spatters on the floor. Eve was waiting in the kitchen. Amelia and Luke were steps behind.
“Did you see her?” I asked, breathless from running. The blood trail ended abruptly outside the kitchen.
Eve shook her head. “No sign of her, and I was here the whole time.”
I was about to say something when there was movement in my periphery. Angie stepped from the shadows in the living room, the gun in her hand. She pointed the weapon up and away from her, toward the hall ceiling.
“Get down!” I screamed, and dropped to the floor. The gun discharged and the hall light exploded. Everything went dark as a loud whooshing noise swept through the house.
And the world exploded.