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room gnashed its teeth—a gaping hole she couldn’t escape.
    Shouts echoed down the stairs. How badly was Nathan hurt?
    Flattening her hands against the cool, concrete wall, she tried to slither away. But Creepy knew, even without seeing her. His long fingers formed a steely grip on her arm, yanking her back and pushing her to the floor.
    “Sit.” He huffed and then grunted. Whatever he was pounding on made a popping sound, like a board breaking. A triumphant sound rose from him, and he started to pull her up.
    “Here’s the door, Miss Emilie.”
    Fear like she’d never known entombed her—a heavy coffin lid closing with a blunt clang. She dug her fingernails into his hand trying to break his grip. “There’s no door. You’re crazy.”
    He laughed softly, musically. “Of course there is. It’s been there all along.” A hazy, pinpoint beam of light sparked in the darkness. Emilie blinked, her eyes tearing from dust and fear and tiredness. “Look,” Creepy said.
    She followed the cylinder of light. And then she screamed.
    *   *   *   *
    E MILIE’S PRIMAL SCREAM set all three men back on their heels.
    “We have to go now.” Nathan once again moved around his colleagues. “He’s going to hurt her.”
    “Going down there is facing the firing squad.” Johnson snagged the hem of his shirt. “We got no choice.”
    “Listen,” Chris said. “It’s quiet all of a sudden. Real quiet.”
    “Emilie?” Nathan called. “We’re still here. Talk to me.”
    No response. Nathan’s stomach twisted. “He’s shot her. Maybe himself too.”
    “You don’t know that,” Chris said. “He could have just subdued her.”
    Keppler and a female paramedic hurried down the hall. The girl started cleaning Nathan’s wound. He waved her off. “Just wrap it up to stop the bleeding. I’ll deal with it later.”
    “You wait too long, and it’ll make the stitching harder,” she said. “Might cause muscle damage.”
    “I’ll take the risk.”
    She shook her head, slathering antibiotic ointment on his arm and then tightly wrapping it in a thick layer of gauze.
    “We need a plan,” Nathan said. “We can’t just sit up here.”
    Johnson’s fingers drummed against the tile. “That’s why you’re going to start talking. You—”
    “He’s gone.” The shaky, feminine voice from the basement sent the men into momentary silence.
    “Emilie?” Nathan recovered first. “Say again?”
    “Gone. He’s gone. He just let me go and…disappeared.”
    “He can’t be gone,” Johnson said. “Maybe she’s an accomplice.”
    “No way she’s in on this,” Nathan said. “I saw her. She was terrified.”
    “She’s probably just confused,” Chris said. “Emilie?”
    “I need help.”
    “We’re coming, I promise,” Chris said. “I need you to help us first. Our guy has to be down there. He’s got nowhere to go but up—straight into us. Is he injured? Can you see him?”
    “No. I’m telling you, he’s gone. It’s dark down here, but he’s gone.”
    “She’s not thinking clearly. He’s using her to lead us into an ambush,” Johnson said. “She needs to turn on the light and draw him out.”
    Nathan slipped into his hot Kevlar, pain shooting through his arm. “Emilie, can you get to the light switch so we can come down and help you?” He pulled the helmet on with his right hand.
    Shuffling and then a startled cry came from the basement.
    “Emilie,” Nathan said, “tell me what you see.”
    “An old door,” Emilie shouted.
    “Where does it lead?”
    “I…I don’t know. It’s closed, but he must have gone in there.” She sounded frantic. “The bank was built on top of the foundation of one of the city’s original buildings, but I’ve never seen this door.”
    Nathan looked at Johnson and Chris, who both nodded, raising their weapons. Keppler did the same.
    “Emilie, back away from it,” Nathan said. “We’re coming down.”
    *   *   *   *
    E MILIE COLLAPSED AGAINST the