Red Velvet Cupcake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #16)(89)

Hannah blinked several times and shielded her eyes from the pouring rain so that she could see the internal controls. They were clearly marked with arrows that she could see, even in the rain. All she had to do was push the control left to go left, return it to the center to stop, and right to go right. As she set the cage into motion, she noticed that there was a large red button marked Emergency Stop. She didn’t really want to consider what type of situation would necessitate an emergency stop, at least not right now. Roger could come through the stairwell door any moment and the cage seemed to take forever to reach its docking point.

The wind whipped her hair against her eyes and Hannah used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe them again. Another bolt of lightning sliced across the sky and again, it was almost immediately followed by a deafening clap of thunder. If the lightning kept flashing and Roger reached the rooftop garden before the cage docked, he’d see her!

Hannah dropped to the floor of the cage and huddled in a corner, trying to shield herself from the elements. Of course that didn’t do much good. The cage was formed of heavy metal mesh and the rain came through from what seemed to be every direction. She shielded the top of her head from the rain with a rag that someone had left on the cage floor. It smelled vaguely of some acidic substance, probably ammonia, and as the lightning flashed again, Hannah noticed a squirt bottle of eco-friendly window washing fluid in a pouch attached to the side of the cage.

Time seemed to slow and almost stop as the cage journeyed slowly toward its enclosure. She huddled there, wet and shivering, hoping that the cage would dock before Roger realized that she must be up here. She was only inches from safety when the door to the stairwell burst open and Roger ran through. She caught one glimpse of his enraged and desperate face as the cage disappeared behind the wall and slid into its dock.

“Hurry, Mike!” Hannah whispered as she reached down to retrieve her purse to search the contents for any type of weapon. Unless several ballpoint pens and an old stick of soothing balm for chapped lips could somehow aid in her defense, she was out of luck. There was something else on the floor and Hannah picked it up. It was the remote. She’d taken it with her. Would Roger notice that it was missing from the pocket on the wall? Should she have returned it to the pocket before she’d climbed into the safety cage? Hannah thought about that for a moment and decided that it was six of one, half-dozen of the other. If she’d returned the remote to the pocket, it wouldn’t be missing, but Roger could use the electronic device to activate the mechanism and bring her place of hiding back to him as smoothly as a metal duck gliding by in a shooting gallery.

Hannah wasn’t sure which was worse, hiding out of sight and not being able to watch what was happening, or being able to see Roger search for her. The tension of waiting in the dark in the small enclosure was so high it was physically painful. Her breath caught in her throat and she thought she’d never be able to breathe again. And then, right when she was beginning to panic, her body forced her to take the next shuddering, gasping breath to start the cycle all over again. Every muscle in her body cramped, leaving her in agony and unable to do more than shake from the cold and her fear. And then she heard it. The access pane, the one she’d shut so carefully after she’d stepped into the cage, crashed open and Roger’s voice boomed over the noise of the thunder, and the wind, and the rain.

“I know where you are, Hannah. Come back!”

Not on a bet! Hannah’s mind answered, but she said nothing. Instead she waited, her finger poised over the emergency stop button. If Roger had another remote and he tried to bring the cage back to him, she’d hit the button and hope that it would override any other commands.

Nothing, absolutely nothing happened. Long moments passed as Hannah waited in fear and in dread. Roger was completely insane if he thought she might move the cage to the entrance point simply because he’d asked her to do it. Or was this some type of trick? Was he lulling her into a false sense of security so that he could get to her another way?

“Come to me, Hannah!” Roger called out again. “Come to me, or I’ll come to get you. And it’ll be much worse for you if I have to do that!”

Hannah ignored the implication. If she moved the cage to him, he’d kill her. That was a foregone conclusion. He wanted her to think that he could come to the docking station to get her, but he couldn’t. There was no way he could come to get her unless he stepped out onto the track outside of the dome and inched his way around to the docking station. Surely he wouldn’t do that . . . would he? Was he crazy and desperate enough to do that?

Delay, her mind said and she agreed. She was almost positive that Barbara would call Mike. And she knew that Andrea would. Help could be here any moment and all she had to do was keep Roger talking until they came to arrest him.

It was counterintuitive to get closer to the man who wanted to kill her, but Hannah did it anyway. She was almost certain he didn’t have a gun or he would have leaned out the window to shoot her by now. It was hand-to-hand and Roger was strong. He would win, but she wouldn’t let him get that close. She had no intention of bringing the cage close enough to the opening so that he could grab her. Or stab her. Or bludgeon her. Or whatever. She would stay at more than arm’s length away at all times. And she would keep him talking until help came through the door.

“Okay,” she called out in a voice so steady that it surprised her. “I’m coming. Just tell me why you tried to kill Barbara.”