Culture Shock Part 22

Sorenson still looked unsteady on his feet. He sat on the sofa. "If you two don't mind, I'm going to stay behind and call in my report. I want to check on the all points-bulletin that was issued and see if they've made any progress in finding our man." He reached for the pack of cigarettes on the table and lit one.

Cynthia crinkled her nose. "You should quit that nasty habit. Your apartment reeks."

He ignored her comment and exhaled. A halo of smoke circled his bandaged head in a seeming taunt.

No use arguing with a smoker, besides she had more important things to concentrate on.

Mike took the diagram from her and opened it. "Okay, looks like our door downstairs is at the end of the building." He pointed to the west.

Thank G.o.d Mike could make sense of the schematic. She knew she couldn't. "Let's get started." She led the way down the corridor.

Mike opened the door and loped down the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs. Cynthia followed on unsteady legs, anxious to search, but fearful of what they might find.

The only illumination consisted of small bulbs in wire cages adhered to the walls, reminiscent of those she'd seen in mining movies where darkness prevailed deep in the shafts. The ambiance and lighting in the bas.e.m.e.nt wasn't that much different but felt eerie!

"I can't see anything," she complained. "We need flashlights."

He handed her the diagram. "I'll run back to the car and grab one and the lantern we keep there, too."

"Hurry."

Mike skipped the top two stairs in one long-legged leap.

Cynthia shuddered at being left alone in the dank, mustiness. Given the muted light, she scanned as much as she could of her surroundings. Clearly, the signature odor that lingered in the hallways and closets originated here in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Not able to see beyond her nose, she dared not stick her hand out to touch anything. But there was nothing wrong with her voice.

"Alex!" she called as loudly as she could.

She c.o.c.ked her ear, hoping to hear something; anything. There was no response.

Something scampered across her foot. A s.h.i.+ver ran up her back, and she stifled the need to scream. She imagined what Mike would think if she bolted upstairs like a sissy. "Man up," she mumbled, but grimaced at the thought of creepy critters rus.h.i.+ng around her feet.

Mike returned within a few minutes with the lantern lit and fully illuminating the room. He handed her the flashlight. "Wow, this is better." He held up the light and looked around. "Maybe not. This place looks better in the dark."

"I agree, but I prefer to be able to see where I'm walking. I was afraid to move for fear I'd break my neck...and I think there are rats down here." The mention of vermin raised the hair on the back of Alex's thick neck.

"They don't bite...unless they're hungry."

"Great, I feel so much better." Maybe Alex would be fearless, but she hated anything that scurried around. "Where should we start?"

The small storage area in which they stood was filled with cardboard boxes of various sizes and shapes. Beyond, a long corridor stretched the length of the building, most likely the escape route Sorenson mentioned.

Mike set the lantern on a large box, took the diagram back from her, and spread it out beneath the light. Cynthia leaned in closer, watching as he ran his finger along the drawing.

"I think I've got my bearings." With one finger on the schematic, he pointed another down the corridor. "This has to be that hallway, and it looks like there are several doors that lead into other small rooms."

She sighed. "Oh, great. We're in a maze." She wanted to run from door-to-door, but having a plan seemed a more logical way to find Alex.

Mike pointed behind them. "There's nothing in that direction except the electrical room."

Cynthia moaned. "I'm sure if we looked in there we'd find the original kite that Benjamin Franklin flew to discover electricity. He probably did the wiring here." Adrenaline pumped into her system and fueled the need to search. She fisted her hands and blew out a loud breath. "We're wasting time."

Mike picked up the lantern and held it high. "Right! Let's stagger our efforts. You take one door, I'll take another."

The idea of rats crossed her mind, but she couldn't give into the squeamish female side. She opened the first door and discovered nothing more than a cleaning closet. Mops and brooms leaned against the walls, a stack of buckets nested in the corner. She backed out and shut the door. "I don't believe anyone has used these things in the last twenty years."

Mike stepped inside the next room. She peered around the door jamb, praying to see Alex. Instead, stacks of yellowed newspapers had been piled against one wall, while cardboard boxes lined another. A spider had woven a work of art to cover the antique was.h.i.+ng machine in the corner. Mike raised the lantern and did a quick, but thorough search. "Nothing in here," he said and pulled the scarred wooden portal closed.

At the end of the hallway, Mike turned to her and shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing but rooms full of the same stuff. h.e.l.l, the people that stored them are either dead or long gone from this joint." He looked forlorn as he wiped his furrowed brow. "Looks like we've reached the end."

She followed him back to their starting point, silently praying Alex would leap from behind a pile and shout surprise. Her heart ached. This was supposed to be where the story had a happy ending.

She aimed her flashlight and scanned the room one last time. "What now?" she asked Mike. "Please tell me we aren't too late."

She wanted to cry and throw herself into Mike's big strong arms and tell him the whole story. Even in her sadness, she pictured what would happen if she did. Most likely he'd flee before giving her a chance to fully explain.

"There's nothing more we can do here." He turned back to the stairs. "Let's check in with Sorenson and see if he had any luck."

With Mike halfway upstairs, she stood on the bottom step and took a long last look around. The beam from her flashlight crept along the walls and ceiling, and when she turned to go upstairs, reflected on the electrical room door.

"You go on up, Mike," she called. "It's probably a waste of time, but I'm going to check the electrical closet."

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

Cynthia pushed aside a rickety, wooden crate to get to the electrical closet. Negative thoughts dictated her mind. If she had to move something to get to the door, then probably no one had pa.s.sed through it recently. Still, determination and hope drove her to check out the interior.

She inched open the creaking door, and immediately sensed a difference in smell. Something sweet wafted past her nose, a familiar aroma. She knew the scent well.

Her favorite perfume. She recalled how Alex had protested when she spritzed him with the sweet Jasmine fragrance. Why would it smell so strongly in this room?

Her heart pounded in antic.i.p.ation as she scanned the interior of the small dusty room with the beam from her flashlight. The floor, in dire need of sweeping, showed only traces of old tile beneath the powdery dirt, and the circuit board on the far wall was a mesh of new and older wiring leading to various toggle switches and fuses. The entire thing was covered with a veil of dust. She thought back to the electric glitches and recognized the reason.

Cynthia canva.s.sed the rear wall with the light. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary, other than the archaic wiring. But why did she smell her perfume? Could it be just her imagination?

A strange noise kept her from closing the door...a scuffling, caused by something much bigger than a rat. The sound came from behind the circuit wall. She stood perfectly still and c.o.c.ked her ear but heard only her own breathing. "Alex," she called.

Again, she heard a noise, only this time it sounded more like a m.u.f.fled cry.

Heart racing, she ducked through cob webs. "Alex, is that you?"

A web adhered itself to her arm, and when she tried to remove it, the gauzy substance stuck to her palm. She swiped her hand against her pant leg until the spider's creation let go. "Alex, if you can hear me, make another noise."

The m.u.f.fled cries became constant, and she followed the sound.

Closer to the circuit panel, she discovered a niche between it and the back wall. Unless one entered the room, it would be easily missed. Her stomach knotted as she approached and aimed her light around the corner. Her heart seized. "Alex! Oh, my G.o.d, it's you." Her breathing returned, keeping rhythm to the hammering of her pulse...Alex's pulse.

Duct tape covered his mouth. His wrists and feet appeared to be bound with electrical wiring, and his tied hands were secured to his ankles. Curled in a fetal position on the dirty floor, he lay wedged between the electrical panel and the wall. She s.h.i.+vered, seeing herself bound, gagged and wide-eyed on the floor. She was about to rescue herself in a sense.

She stepped forward to release him. The floor was littered with years of acc.u.mulated debris, and her foot caught on a piece of wire. She stumbled, but caught herself before she fell. Kneeling beside him, she laid the flashlight on the floor, and carefully peeled the tape from his mouth.

Dirt covered the dress he wore, and one sleeve hung by only a few threads. He looked as though he'd put up a valiant struggle. At such a pitiful sight, she swallowed the lump forming in her throat. He cast her a look that pleaded for her to hurry.

"G.o.d, it's a wonder you can even move in these cramped quarters," she rambled. "I'm so happy you caught my attention. I was ready to leave."

His eyes widened and he flinched, but once his breathing was no longer restricted, Alex gulped air in deep breaths.

"I was so afraid I'd never see you again...me again." Cynthia worked to free him from his bindings, being careful not to brush against the panel. The area was cramped and she struggled to maneuver. "Boy, there isn't much wiggle room here."

"Be careful," he warned. "Some of connections are hot. Thomas Carpenter's the one who stowed me here. He made sure to loosen quite a few wires to encourage me to stay put. How could I have been so wrong about him?"

"We both were. It's a long story and I'll gladly share it when we get you out of here and catch that maniac." She managed to unwrap the cord from his wrists.

Before she could move to his ankles, he grabbed her hand. "Oh, Cyn, I've never been so glad to see someone in my life. Thanks!"

"I can say the very same thing to you." She squeezed his hand. "I thought I'd never see you again...never get the chance to let you know how I feel about you, despite...." Her manly voice crackled with female emotion.

Tears glistened on his cheeks. He quickly wiped them from her dirt-blemished skin.

"Part of me is embarra.s.sed for you to see me cry, but I guess since I'm a girl, it's okay. Being one might have advantages, after all."

She worked to untie his feet. "Cry if you want. I've fought off tears more times than I can count, but never gave in. After all, I have to keep up this manly image, you know." She chuckled to lighten the moment.

"Yeah ... cry!" A gravelly voice behind them sliced through the brief silence. The door slammed shut leaving only the flashlight to silhouette the frame of Thomas Carpenter. Even in the dim light, she saw his beady eyes.

"My, my! Isn't this a touching reunion?" His voice raised goose b.u.mps on her arms.

He threw his signature doll on the ground, took a piece of electrical cord from his pocket and tightened it between his hands.

Cynthia hunkered on the floor next to Alex and peered up at Carpenter. "You won't get away with this. My partner will be right back, so you may as well give yourself up. There's a city-wide search going on for you as we speak." She hoped her voice didn't show the nervousness churning in her stomach.

An evil smile spread across his face. "It doesn't matter. I always finish what I start. First, I'll take care of you, and then I'll have my moments of pleasure with your lady friend."

Her mind raced. Of all the days to be in plain clothes. If only she had Alex's gun. She hated the idea of firearms, but this was one occasion she'd be only too glad to shoot someone.

Her gaze scanned the dim interior for some kind of weapon. She had to find a way to catch Carpenter off-guard.

He eyed them with malicious hunger, swirling the electrical cord over and over in his hands.

"Why kill us? We've done nothing to you." Cynthia stalled for time.

His nervous twisting stopped for a moment. "You weren't part of the plan...just the charming Miz Freitas." He pointed toward Alex. "She's just like her. They all were." His thin lips turned into a sneer. "I devoted my life to her and she dashed my dreams. How could she vow to love me 'til death do us part', and then change her mind? I guess death came a little earlier than she planned." He cackled. "She pleaded with me for another chance, you know?" Ice tinged his voice. "Even vowed to love me again, but it was too late. The lying, cheating, b.i.t.c.h. She thought I'd believe her. I made sure she wouldn't hurt anyone again." With clenched fists, he pretended to tighten the electrical wire around an imaginary neck. "Her last gasping breath numbed the pain for a little while." His demeanor defined evil.

He ogled Alex in Cynthia's body with a lingering sweep, then looked away.

Cynthia took advantage of the distraction and discreetly reached for the wooden chair leg she had spied earlier. Her fingers locked around it and she pulled it close.

She needed to keep him talking. "She must have really hurt you." She tried sounding sympathetic.

He stiffened, and his smile melted into a frown. "She did! I could have been a husband and father, but she took my baby away. I begged her not to have the abortion, but she just laughed in my face."

His eyes, that only moments ago looked void of feeling, now brimmed with tears.

The puzzle pieces were falling into place. For a fleeting moment, Cynthia felt a pang of pity for him.

Thomas Carpenter stood lost in thought. Cynthia mustered every bit of strength in Alex's body, jumped to her feet, and, wielding the wooden club, slammed it against his temple. He crumpled at her feet.

She stared down at his unmoving body and then glanced at Alex. "I guess I didn't feel as sorry for him as I thought."

"Wow!" Alex shouted. "I wanted to do that, for all the times he leered at me...you, but maybe it was more fitting this way."

His words were the most welcome sound she'd ever heard.

With no time to waste, Cynthia picked up the flashlight and aimed it at Thomas Carpenter. A river of red trickled from a nasty gash in the side of his head. She couldn't believe she'd actually felled the villain. Her hands trembled, but she steeled herself and turned to Alex.

As she gazed upon her own face, the eyes looking back at her held the soul of a man for whom she cared deeply, maybe even loved. She wasn't sure. She reached for him. "Now, how can I get you out of there?"

"Just grab both of my wrists and pull me straight up off the floor."

Cynthia s.h.i.+ned the flashlight on the back of the circuit board. "There are so many wires. Most of them look loose and threatening." She set the light aside. "Okay, take my hands, and hold tight. I'm finally thankful for this burly frame of yours."

With closed eyes, she yanked Alex to his feet. When she slammed against his chest, he heaved a sigh of relief.

The heel of the pump Alex wore became entangled in the discarded cord, and he lost his balance. Pulling Cynthia with him, he fell against the electrical panel.

Sparks flew in all directions and Cynthia fought to free herself from the binding shock. Alex's body shuddered as the current pa.s.sed through him and adhered them together. Fight! Fight it, Cynthia! Her mind screamed and she responded.

Calling on Alex's strength again, she bucked against the surge and tugged him away from the hot wires. She toppled backwards, pulling him atop her. The arcing sound ceased and the room was quiet.

She peered, with relief, into a familiar face.

Suddenly, a bright, white light engulfed the room as an arm extending through the doorway held a lantern in the air. "Mike," Cynthia called out in relief.

He eyed the two of them lying on the floor and his mouth dropped open. "Oh, my G.o.d, you found her, Alex. Are you two all right?"

Cynthia sat up and brushed herself off. "I think so." Still feeling weird from the electric shock, she brushed the tingling aside and reveled in their good luck.

Mike walked closer and helped Alex to his feet, then bent to cuff Carpenter. "The electricity went out for a minute, so I hurried down here knowing you were checking this room. G.o.d, I'm glad you did. We might have-"

"Don't worry about it now, we found Alex and that's all that matters," Cynthia cut in.

"Found who?" Mike's brows raised in confusion.

Cynthia glanced up at Alex and realized she looked at the real McCoy. She wore her own dress, tattered though it was, and was back in her own body! It really was Alex standing next to Mike, not her. Her heart quickened and she wanted to scream with joy.