She put her head out. The heart that had nearly stopped a few moments ago now raced in her chest when she saw that the hall was completely empty. Keeping her head long enough to remember to shut the door behind her, Pup moved into the passageway. No longer was she thinking of secret panels, file cabinets, or information. She had worked in this house for days. She knew every door, hallway, corridor, and stairway. And right now she was getting out.
“Why did you have to come now?” Duncan asked Paine for the fifth time.
Paine's fear and nerves were not feigned; he was not a good liar. “I just got the word, and when Mr. Wallace asked me to run an errand this morning, I thought I should tell you right away.”
Duncan scowled at him but then asked, “Did you actually see them in jail?”
“No.” This was true, although he'd been at the jailhouse himself. “But Mr. Wallace wasn't even talking to me; it was Mr. Crawford who brought the news.” Paine slowed down now. What if they had been playing him for a fool yet again? Then he remembered the night he'd just spent in prison. A shudder ran all through him. He couldn't take the chance.
“I'm sure it's true,” Paine went on. “After all, you just said they didn't come last night as planned.”
“I know what I said!” Duncan snapped. He would have gone on, but a knock sounded at the office door. Nelson answered it.
“A Mr. Carlyle Crawford is here to see the boss.”
Duncan had been moving to the door, but now rounded on his nephew. “You fool! You were followed.”
“No, I'm sure not.” Paine was certain that this was not part of the plan.
Duncan cut him off with a downward slash of his hand. “Get out of sight!” he whispered furiously. “I'll handle this.”
Paine stood frozen while Nelson and his uncle left the room. He'd never been so frightened in his whole life. Completely forgetting that there was another door he could use, he hid underneath the desk in terror.
It was impossible to know if the mansion staff knew she was being held captive. So for this reason alone Pup was determined to keep out of sight. She had arrived on the main level, but the door she usually used exited through the kitchen. Someone was always in the kitchen. At one point she heard footsteps moving rather fast in the hallway and had to hide behind a corner. No one had approached, but she thought her heart might stop before the person turned and entered a room without discovering her.
At last she had made it. She was at the door to the wine cellar. She wasn't certain if anyone would be in the cellar, but right inside this door was a door that led to the back of the house. It was on the same side of the house as the kitchen door but was separated by many high bushes. If she could just gain that door, she knew she was home free. Even if it meant hiding at the back of the house for the rest of the day, she would be safe.
Pup breathed a prayer of thanks when she found the cellar door unlocked. She wasted no time, swiftly slipping inside and trying the outside door. The key was in the door, so she turned it, moving slowly in case this entry was being guarded from outside. She opened it just a crack and saw nothing. Determined to put up a huge fuss if she was grabbed, Pup went ahead, every movement subtle. Opening it just enough to slip out, she remembered again to close it behind her.
She saw no one. Her heart soared as she took the steps on swift, silent feet. She was almost free. Walking carefully along the bushes, she knew just where she was going to hide. Pup never made it. Arms roughly grabbed her from behind, one hand going hard over her mouth. Before she could think about struggling or screaming, she was dragged off her feet and into the thick foliage at the back of the house.
“My files?” Duncan managed to look pleasant, but Carlyle wasn't fooled.
“Yes, sir, we have some questions on several accounts and would like to verify the facts with you.”
“That sounds like bank business.”
“We think so, too, sir, but there are no such records of these accounts with your banks, and we have people who say they've worked with you.”
“Of course.” Duncan looked as if he'd just remembered. “I do have some private dealings, and the files for those transactions are right here in my office. I'd be happy to show you.”
“Very well. I'll get my assistants, and we'll begin.”
“Assistants, Mr. Crawford? I really don't think you'll find that much.”
“But this will speed things along, Mr. Phipps.”
“How many men are we talking about here?” he still sounded only mildly interested.
“Just two.”
He hesitated for only a moment. “All right. I'll wait for you here and then show you the files.”
Carlyle nodded pleasantly and walked to the front door. Gerard was there to let him out, his manners impeccable. The door closed behind him, and all Carlyle could do was hope that they would be allowed back in.
Nick couldn't remember if Duncan Phipps had ever seen him. It had been nothing short of torment to send Carlyle in where he wanted to be, but he couldn't take the chance. He comforted himself with the fact that, either way, they were going to get him, and Nick would get inside. He would be called in as one of Carlyle's assistants. If that didn't work and Duncan put up a fight, they would raid the mansion. It was just a matter of time before he had the information he so desperately sought.
He felt his palms sweat. It was almost impossible to keep Pup from his mind, but he forced himself to stay calm. His wife was another worry. She had been inconsolable the night before, almost ill with the tears she'd shed, first with worry over how late he had been, and then over the news concerning Pup. It was a temptation to hide it from her, but he knew that wasn't fair.
I've got to take Pup home to Camille,
Nick said to himself.
She has to be all right. I want Phipps. I want him badly. But no matter what else happens, that girl has to be all right.
Pup's huge eyes looked through the gloom at the man holding her, and she nearly collapsed with relief. Only then did McKay remove his hand from her mouth. Both arms crushed Pup against him for a moment, and then he held her away so he could look into her face.
“You're going to be the death of me,” he whispered almost faintly.
“I was so scared.” Her voice was just as low.
“It's over now. Stay here.”
She wanted to hold on to him, to tell him not to leave her, but she realized all too well that he had a job to do. McKay shifted her so she could lean against the wall. Weak with exhaustion, Pup slumped against it. He then moved through the bushes along the house toward Trent.
“Is everything all right?” The other agent had heard the scuffle.
“Yes. Get out front. Tell Nick that I have Pup.”
“Pup?”
“That's right. Get to him immediately, even if he's already gone inside. Tell him or Carlyle privately.”
Trent moved to do as he was told, and McKay returned to Pup.
Carlyle came down the steps, and both Nick and Kelsey Frost, the other man they'd chosen, stepped down from the buggy where they'd been waiting. Nick was just about to stride up the walk when he heard his name. He stopped in the guise of tying his shoes.
“Is that you, Trent?” he asked without ever looking in that direction.
“Yes. McKay sent me from the back. He has Pup.”
The young agent had no idea what his words did to Nick's heart. For a moment he couldn't breathe. He could still see Camille's stricken face and wanted to weep with relief for all of them.
“Thank you, Trent.”
A moment later, Carlyle was beside them. He reached into the buggy and, as planned, brought out a slim briefcase. Nick finished with his shoe and spoke, his lips barely moving as they walked toward the house.
“McKay has Pup,” he told his closest agent. “Nothing will stop us now, Carlyle. We've got this man dead to rights.”