The New Husband(105)

Good-bye, house. Good-bye, Simon.

As Nina reached for the front doorknob, her cell phone rang.





CHAPTER 59


Instinct made Nina retrieve her phone from her coat pocket. It could have been Maggie calling from school. Simon was there and she was thinking crisis.

She saw the call was actually from Connor. Nina was about to answer when Daisy gave a hard yank, pulling the leash free from her loosened grasp as she went for her phone. Spinning quickly to catch her, Nina lunged for the leash, but Daisy was too fast. In a blur of motion, Daisy bolted for the door to the basement, which Nina had left open in her haste.

Down she went again, putting her phone back in her coat pocket, not answering Connor’s call.

Get my dog and get out.

Nina returned to the basement to find Daisy barking wildly at the wall behind the stairs, pawing at the brick.

“What are you doing?” Nina shouted as she reached down to gather Daisy’s leash. She pulled hard, but Daisy held firm. Nina gave the leash another tug, gritting her teeth in frustration.

“Come on,” she urged, her temper rising as if she were dealing with an obstinate child.

Instead, Daisy went down on her stomach, paws outstretched, before rolling onto her back, refusing to make eye contact.

“No! Come!” Nina scolded.

What is Daisy trying to say? A trainer had once told her that hierarchy was important in the canine world. Could Daisy be attempting—in a respectful manner—to inform Nina that she wished to disobey her command? Perhaps. Or maybe it meant she was afraid. If so, it would be an emotion both currently shared.

Nina thought of Allison, gone somewhere, taken, killed, thought of Simon finding her here, and pulled on the leash again, this time with more force, knowing every second counted.

“Come on,” she growled.

Daisy allowed Nina to drag her a couple feet on her back before righting herself.

There, thought Nina. Let’s go.

But Daisy dug in and began moving in reverse, as if she were playing a game of tug with an invisible rope toy, pulling Nina toward that same wall she’d visited before.

No more games. Nina went for the collar. She’d carry her out of here if she had to. But now, standing so close to the wall, Nina could see something she hadn’t noticed before. There appeared to be the very faint outline of a door. Daisy kept her nose to the wall, barking excitedly. Using her fingers, Nina traced the edge of the outline, searching for some kind of a latch, but there didn’t appear to be any way to open it.

She would have left, but Daisy was so insistent that she simply had to know why. But how did it open? She had no tools, nothing she could use to pry it ajar. What was behind there?

It’s Allison … it’s her body … it’s her bones.

Feeling desperate, Nina pressed against the wall in random places, looking for some kind of pivot point, but the door, if there was a door, wouldn’t budge. She reached higher for added leverage, and her hand pushed against a brick above her head. She heard a click and a popping like an airlock giving way. The crack in the door widened. A jagged energy coursed through her body. Nina set her fingers against the edge of the crack and gave a hard pull. The door swung open easily, the hinges not making a sound. A pungent aroma, truly an animal-like scent, filled her nostrils.

Nina’s mouth opened in a scream, but no words came out.

He looked back at her blankly, his eyes wide with disbelief. Daisy darted into the room behind the stairs with unbounded joy, her barking ricocheting off the concrete walls.

“Am I dreaming?” he asked in a whispered voice.

Nina knelt before the man with the ankle restraint around his leg and touched his bearded face with great care and tenderness.

“No,” she said, caressing him, tears stinging her eyes. “You’re not dreaming. I’m here, Glen. I’m really here.”





CHAPTER 60


This was not the man portrayed on the missing-person posters that Nina had distributed all over New Hampshire. That photo had captured Glen’s rugged good looks: the hard-to-tame wavy hair with the side part he favored, eyes a bit brooding, neatly trimmed beard glinting red, and a proud smile because, after all, he had just hiked up a mountain.

Then there was this man: hollow, bloodless skin pockmarked with ugly bruises, deep red scratches, and lesions on his arms and face that had to have come from a recent beating. He was shockingly pale, eyes darkly ringed, and cheeks sunken like those of a castaway. A thick and tangled beard, descending well past his chin, trapped dried food like a spider’s web. His hair, unruly as his beard, draped long past his shoulders. His body was decaying while alive.

He was chained like a prisoner, and dressed like one, too, in a gray sweatsuit that hung loosely over what once had been a fit, well-muscled body. He began blinking rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the blazing light. Nina stood shakily, taking one step back, scanning the room, as if the answer to what to do next would be found nearby.

When the overheads were off, Nina had noted that the darkness was impenetrable. Now she knew why. The basement had casement windows that were covered with blackout shades. Certainly those windows had been sealed tight. There was no way out for Glen, not with a chain locked around his ankle.

“Oh, dear Lord,” she said.

The ground seemed to suddenly drop out from under her, her balance gone. Nina sank to her knees again, landing with a painful crack of bone on cement. The room went spinning—the walls, the floor, Glen, Daisy, all of it now a blur.