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.Hundreds, fifties and twenties.It would save her life—if her life could be saved.If she could escape Balfour House and the estate without being detected.She stuffed the cash into the capacious pockets in her skirt, then lifted the photograph away from the glass.It showed a glowing Melinda, dressed in her wedding gown, clinging to handsome Nathan’s arm.Hannah had no time, but she couldn’t leave the picture here to be found by the searchers or, worse, never to be found at all.Carefully she folded it down the middle, then ripped it in half and tucked Mrs.Manly’s image into her breast pocket.With a violence that spoke volumes, she crumpled Nathan and tossed him aside.Standing, she pulled the key from the lock.She turned off her flashlight and placed it in her pocket.Pressing the lever down, she leaned against the door.Something fought against her, something more powerful than rusty old hinges.She cracked the door an inch.The wind gusted through the opening with all the vigor of an incoming winter storm.She held on to the handle, desperate that the door not slam back and alert any searchers of her whereabouts.Taking a breath, she stepped out of the cool cave and into the blasting wind.Carefully, she shut the door.She locked it.The searchers inside wouldn’t easily follow her.She stood in the extension of the cave.In the distance, she could see a faint lightening of the night.The entrance.And beyond that entrance, she could hear the roar of the ocean.No wonder the metal hardware on the door was rusting.Day and night, night and day, the wind blew salt spray up the fifty-foot-long passage toward the door.Briefly, she turned on her flashlight and shone it around.The walls were narrowing.Here and there the rock ceiling had collapsed.She turned off the light—and walked.The scent of the sea grew greater, the rocks slippery with spray.The closer she got, the stronger the wind, the more she was sure she was in deep trouble.Mrs.Manly had promised her the beach.She was walking into the waves.She placed her hand against one wall, and she didn’t stop.She didn’t stop when the icy water filled her shoes.She didn’t stop when the brutally cold waves rose to her thighs.She caught her breath in agony as a wave broke against her stomach.Her teeth chattered, and tears of frozen pain trickled down her cheeks.She plowed steadily forward, hoping the water didn’t lift the cash out of her pockets, realizing it didn’t matter because she wasn’t going to live through this.Just as she was ready to die of hypothermia, the wall beneath her hand took an abrupt left turn.The cave opened and she walked along the base of the cliff, where the waves had undercut the granite.With a sigh of relief, she realized she was hidden from searchers above.Slowly, slowly, the ground beneath her feet sloped up out of the ocean.Clouds covered the full moon, muting its pure light, but she could see enough to know she was on a path, a narrow path that wound and turned ever upward, taking her to the top.Still the wind blasted her, and she shuddered in frozen agony as the sand and water squished in her shoes.She was afraid.So afraid.Afraid her numb feet would slip and she’d drop onto the rocks and into the waves below.Afraid that somewhere above, the mob waited.Carrick waited.Trent waited.But although light glowed from the still not visible house, she saw no trace of any human figure on the top of the cliff.Did they think she was still inside Balfour House?Probably.They probably didn’t believe she would do what she’d done to escape.By God, she didn’t believe she’d done what she’d done to escape.She reached the top of the cliff and crouched there, assessing her location.The house was far to the left and down.She’d managed to come out near the spot where Mrs.Manly had first told her about the fortune and charged her to distribute it on her death.With gritty hands, Hannah wiped tears off her cheeks.Yeah, like that was going to ever happen.Through the increasing howl of the wind, she could hear sirens shrieking.At the house, emergency vehicles and police cars, blue and red lights flashing, lined up at the front door.A throng of people milled out on the lawn and trampled the flower beds.With a savage smile, Hannah realized that Mrs.Manly had got her wish—her party had become the most talked-about event of the year.Standing, she cut across the rise and looked over the other side—and realized she’d found the promised land.Cars.A hundred cars were parked on the flat below.Limos.Mercedes.BMWs.A couple of luxury SUVs.Somewhere, somehow, surely one of them had the keys still in the ignition.She stumbled down the slope, shivering in the cold, telling herself if she just hurried, she’d warm up, and knowing that was crap, with the temperature dropping and the wind chill at freezing or below.Still she walked.She couldn’t give up now, not when she could see lines and lines of cars, unguarded by anything but their isolation in a field on the rocky edge of the Atlantic Ocean.Unguarded because.because the drivers and the valets had raced to the house to be part of the excitement?Yes.Probably.Undoubtedly.She reached the first car and looked inside.Keys glinted in the seat.Her heart leaped at this first turn of good luck.But that car was blocked.She couldn’t get it out.She had to find a car on the outer edge.Encouraged, she stumbled forward, occasionally glancing inside a vehicle, and always seeing keys.Keys in the seats, keys in the ignitions.With the security on the estate, no one was supposed to steal these cars.She got to the outer ring of cars and stood, undecided [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]