‘Help! Get me out of here. Anyone. Hey. Let me out!’
Elena hurried through the door to the kitchen of the main house and shook herself to get rid of the rain. It was pouring outside. The walk up the hill didn’t look that long, but she’d gotten drenched in the time it had taken for her to run the distance. She dropped her backpack onto the floor and tugged off her jacket. She hung it on the metal coat rack beside the door and tried not to shiver when a droplet of water ran down the back of her neck.
‘Hello?’ she called. A stack of freshly washed kitchen towels was on the granite counter. She grabbed the top one and brushed it over her damp skin. ‘Is anyone here?’
She knew that Marta and Leonard were out running errands, because they’d asked her for a list of things she needed. The only other person’s location she wasn’t sure about was his. She hadn’t seen any lights on in the main house from her view down by the lake. There’d been no movement or any other signs of life. It was hard to believe he’d be out wandering around in this kind of weather, but she already knew he didn’t like being cooped up.
Maybe he was sleeping or off in some distant room. The place had enough of them. She slipped off her shoes and left them on the throw rug by the door so she wouldn’t track mud.
‘It’s Elena,’ she called. She didn’t want to raise her voice too much. She just needed to buzz down to the first-floor library, but she didn’t want to stumble across anyone unexpectedly. That had already happened with a certain person too many times, and she didn’t want it to happen here, in his home.
Even if he had given her permission to be here.
Blotting her wet hair, she padded over to peek through the kitchen doorway. ‘I’m just here to borrow a book,’ she called lightly.
The looming stillness of the house gave her visions of a black hole just waiting to suck her up. She waited another moment, and then yet another for good measure.
Summoning up her nerve, she began tiptoeing down the hallway. She knew which book she needed and where it was. Her plan was to just grab it and go. The problem was that the library was at the other end of the house, a trek away.
She started down the long corridor, trying not to let it unnerve her. The place was just so big and museum-like. She looked into the foyer with its massive stair tower rising overhead. It picked up even the soft patter of her footsteps and made them echo. Squeezing the last bit of moisture from her hair into the towel, she looked in the other direction. It made her pause. The open room was sweeping and expansive, and it offered a wall-to-wall view of the lake – and, off to the right, her house.
Well, not her house. His lake house.
He’d been watching her that first night from the balcony right outside those windows. Had he been watching her since?
The idea sent another kind of shiver down her spine.
Hurrying along, she passed empty rooms filled with oak furniture, priceless antiques and vintage rugs. She felt out of place here, surrounded by so much wealth. Everything felt so heavy, yet so luxurious and tempting. The only context she had was the time she and her mother had vacationed in Rhode Island. Her aunt had taken them on a tour of the famous mansions of Newport – the summer getaways for the likes of the Vanderbilts and the Rockefellers. The only difference there was that the rooms had been roped off. The classic look-but-don’t-touch approach.
This was real.
These people lived this way. They kept this mansion that was way too big with way too many rooms. They slept on these beds, walked across those priceless rugs, toyed with those pricey ceramic figurines … Privilege. There were so many aspects to that word. She couldn’t imagine how it would feel to not have to worry about money, to have any pleasure or comfort available at the snap of her fingers.
She moved past a study and then a music room with a grand piano and harp. It made her frown. Did someone actually play that thing or was it just for show?
It didn’t matter; she was dawdling. Straightening, she focused again on the library at the end of the hall. She was about to walk inside when she realised she was still carrying the kitchen towel. A damp towel and books … It wasn’t a good combination.
There was a half bath just off to her right. She stepped inside to drape the hand-towel over a towel rail. For a moment, she let her toes curl into the rug beneath her feet. Even the bathroom rugs here were thick and sumptuous. Its burgundy colour matched not only the towels that were artfully arranged over the brass rail but also the soapdish and lotion dispenser. She was admiring the heavy ceramic set when a bang suddenly came through the pipes. The sound was so loud, it made her jump.
‘Ah!’
Lurching back, she looked at the sink and toilet. Was something wrong with the plumbing?
Another sound radiated through the walls. In the small room, the reverberation seemed to be coming from everywhere. Elena flinched again, warnings flaring in her mind. Shuffling backwards, she braced herself in the doorway.
What was that?
She looked for the source of the racket. It sounded as if the pipes were about to explode.
Wait. No, that wasn’t the pipes. She could hear them now in a distinct rattle. This was something else … some kind of impact … She looked out the window. Had someone made it onto the grounds? Were they trying to break in?
Another series of hard thuds rang in the walls, making her wince. She could literally feel them under her fingertips. No, this was coming from inside.
She looked up.
A strange sound had her quickly reevaluating and looking down. Under her feet. Below her, she’d heard a cry that could only be associated with a wounded animal.
‘Oh, God.’
Something was down there.
She didn’t think that Leonard had been caring for any pets, but would he have kept a guard dog inside if he’d known she was on the property? She doubted it, but she jumped when there was another explosion of noise beneath her. Banging noises. Desperate sounds.
‘Hold on. I’m coming.’
Shaking with adrenalin, she backed into the hallway. Whatever was down there, it needed help. She couldn’t ignore the frantic sounds. She looked up and down the hall. How could she get down there? The library was the only place she’d ever visited. She’d never explored; she hadn’t wanted to.
Bang, bang, bang.
More clanging rang up through the walls and her toes curled with the need to move. Where was the staircase? She didn’t try to be quiet as she raced back to the main entrance, though she nearly fell, her socks sliding along the hardwood flooring, when she found an open archway. There. Carpeted steps led downwards to the basement.
She flew down the stairs and immediately turned to her right. The sounds were louder down here. The limestone structure had soaked up most of the noise, containing it. On the lower level, they were booming. Her sense of urgency grew, and she ignored the indoor putting green and wet bar as she honed in on the anguish in the air.
‘Hello?’ she called. ‘Where are you?’
Heart pounding, she found the gym. It was nearly as big as the one she’d used in the city, only the equipment was better and it didn’t smell like sweaty socks. On the balls of her feet, she scoped out the situation.
There. The door off the end. It was shaking on its hinges.
She heard that raw, guttural sound that had stifled her breaths upstairs. Only this time the keening was clear. It wasn’t an animal; it was a person. A man.
‘What’s