Last to Die

THIRTY

WHERE ARE THE OTHERS?” MAURA ASKED.

Julian squinted at them from his doorway, eyes still dazed with sleep. He stood bare-chested, wearing only boxer shorts, his hair standing up in all directions. A sleepy teenager who clearly wanted only to crawl back into bed. Yawning, he rubbed his chin, where the first dark stubble of a beard had sprouted. “Aren’t they in bed?”

“Will and Teddy and Claire aren’t in their rooms,” said Sansone.

“They were there when I checked on them.”

“When was that?”

“I don’t know. Ten thirty, maybe.” Julian suddenly focused on the gun tucked into Sansone’s waistband, and he straightened in alarm. “What’s going on?”

“Julian,” said Maura. “We need to find them now. And we need to be quiet about it.”

“Hold on,” he said, ducking back into his room. A moment later he reemerged dressed in blue jeans and sneakers. With Bear at his heels, he headed down the hall and stepped into Will and Teddy’s room.

“I don’t get it,” he said, frowning at the empty beds. “The boys were both in here, already in their pajamas.”

“They didn’t say anything about going out?”

“They know they’re supposed to stay inside tonight. Especially tonight.” Julian spun around and headed across the hall. Maura and Sansone followed him into Claire’s room, where they all stood surveying the books spread haphazardly on the desk, the sweatshirt and dirty socks lying in a heap in the corner. Nothing alarming here, just the typical disorder of a teenager’s room. “It doesn’t make sense that they’d leave,” said Julian. “They’re not stupid.”

Suddenly Maura was aware of how deep the silence was. As deep as the earth, as deep as the grave. If any other souls were in the castle, she could not hear them. She dreaded the thought of searching every room, every alcove and stairway, in a fortress that had already been breached by a killer.

The dog’s whine startled her. She looked down at Bear, who returned the look with an eerie gleam of intelligence in his eyes. “He can help us search,” she said. “He just needs their scent.”

“He’s not a bloodhound,” Julian pointed out.

“But he is a dog, with a dog’s sense of smell. He can track them, if we make him understand what we’re searching for.” She glanced at the mound of Claire’s discarded clothes. “Give him a whiff of those,” she said. “Let’s see where he takes us.”

Julian pulled a leash from his pocket, clipped it to Bear’s collar, and led him to the pile of dirty laundry. “Here, boy,” he urged. “Take a good sniff. That’s what Claire smells like. You know Claire, don’t you?” He cupped the dog’s enormous head in his hands and stared straight into Bear’s eyes. The connection between them was something deep, even sacred. It had been forged in the Wyoming mountains, where boy and dog had learned to rely on each other, where survival had meant complete trust between them. Maura watched in wonderment as understanding seemed to light the dog’s eyes. Bear turned toward the door and barked.

“Come on,” said Julian. “Let’s go find Claire.”

Bear tugged on the leash, leading the boy out of the room. But instead of heading toward the main stairway, the dog moved down the corridor, toward the deserted wing of the building where the shadows were deeper, where doors gaped open, revealing empty rooms with sheet-draped furniture. They passed an oil portrait of a woman in red, a woman with eyes that seemed to stare at Maura with strangely metallic brightness, as though lit from within by some secret knowledge.

“He’s headed toward the old servants’ staircase,” said Sansone.

Bear halted and stared down the steps, as if pondering the wisdom of descending into that gloom. He glanced back at Julian, who nodded. Bear started down the narrow stairs, claws clicking on wood. Unlike the banister in the grand staircase, this oak railing was unadorned with elaborate carvings, the wood rubbed smooth over the decades by the hands of multiple servants who had quietly kept the castle tidy and its guests fed. A chill seemed to cling to the air, as if the ghosts of those long-dead servants still lingered in this passage, forever flitting up and down with brooms and breakfast trays. Maura could almost feel one of those ghosts whisper past her like a cold breeze, and she glanced over her shoulder but saw only deserted stairs ascending into the gloom.

They moved down two flights and still they kept descending, toward the basement level. Maura had never been down this far, into the deepest part of Evensong. These steps seemed to lead into the heart of the mountain itself, into closed spaces. She could smell it in the air, could feel it in the dampness.

They arrived at the bottom of the steps and walked into the cavernous kitchen, where Maura saw massive stainless-steel stoves, a walk-in refrigerator, and ceiling racks where pots and pans hung. So this was where their morning eggs were fried and their bread was baked. At this hour the kitchen was deserted, the crockery and utensils stowed until morning.

Bear suddenly froze, staring at a cellar door. The ruff of his neck stood up and he growled, a sound that sent fear screaming up Maura’s spine. Something was behind that door, something that alarmed the dog, made him drop to a crouch, as though preparing for attack.

Metal clanged, loud as a cymbal crash.

Maura jumped, heart slamming, as the echoes faded in the kitchen. She felt Sansone holding her arm, but she didn’t remember when he’d grasped it. It was simply there, as if he had always been there to steady her.

“I think I see him,” Sansone said quietly. Calmly. He released Maura’s arm and started across the kitchen.

“Anthony—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” He rounded the kitchen island and knelt down, dropping from view. Though she couldn’t see him, she heard his voice, murmuring gently. “Hey, you’re safe. We’re here, son.”

She and Julian glanced uneasily at each other, then followed Sansone around the corner of the island. There they found him crouched over a trembling Teddy Clock. The boy was curled into a tight ball, knees shoved up to his chest, arms hugging himself.

“He seems to be fine,” said Sansone, glancing up at her.

“He’s not fine,” she said. Dropping down beside Teddy, she pulled him into her arms and rocked him to her chest. He was chilled, his skin like ice, and shaking so hard that she could hear his teeth rattle. “There, there,” she murmured. “I’ve got you, Teddy.”

“He was here,” the boy whispered.

“Who?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he moaned. “I shouldn’t have left them there, but I was scared. So I ran …”

“Where are the others, Teddy?” said Julian. “Where are Claire and Will?”

The boy pressed his face against Maura’s shoulder, as though trying to burrow his way into some safe place where no one could find him.

“Teddy, you have to talk to us,” said Maura and she peeled him away from her. “Where are the others?”

“He put them all in the room …” The boy’s fingers were like claws digging desperately into her arms.

She pried away his fingers, forced him to look at her. “Teddy, where are they?”

“I don’t want to go back to that room!”

“You have to show us. We’ll stay right beside you. Just point us to the place, that’s all you have to do.”

The boy took a shaky breath. “Can I—can I hold the dog? I want the dog to stay with me.”

“Sure, kid,” Julian said. Kneeling down, he handed Teddy the leash. “You hold on to him and he’ll protect you. Bear’s not afraid of anything.”

That seemed to give Teddy the dose of courage he needed. He rose unsteadily to his feet, clutching the dog’s leash as if it were a lifeline, and moved across the kitchen to a door. Taking a deep breath, he opened the latch. The door swung open.

“That’s the old wine cellar,” said Sansone.

“It’s down there,” Teddy whispered, staring into the gloom. “I don’t want to go.”

“It’s okay, Teddy. You can wait right here,” said Sansone. He glanced at Maura, then led the way down the stairs.

With every step they descended, the air felt thicker, danker. Bare lightbulbs hung overhead, casting a yellowish glow on rows and rows of empty wine racks that once must have held thousands of bottles, no doubt only the best French vintages for a railroad tycoon and his guests. The wine had long since been consumed, and the racks stood abandoned, a silent memorial to a golden age of extravagance.

They came to a heavy door, its hinges bolted solidly into stone. An old storeroom. Maura glanced at Julian. “Why don’t you go up to the kitchen and wait with Teddy?”

“Bear’s with him. He’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want you to see this. Please.”

But Julian remained stubbornly by her side as Sansone lifted the latch. In the kitchen above, Bear began to howl, a high, desperate sound that sent dread screaming up her spine as Sansone swung open the door. That’s when Maura caught the scent from inside that dark room. The smell of sweat. The reek of terror. What she feared most lay before her in the gloom. Four bodies, propped up against the wall.

The children. Dear God, it’s the children.

Sansone found the light switch and flipped it on.

One of the bodies lifted its head. Claire stared at them wide-eyed and gave a frantic whimper, muffled by duct tape. The others stirred, Will and the cook and Dr. Pasquantonio, all of them bound with duct tape and struggling to speak.

They’re alive. They’re all alive!

Maura dropped down beside the girl. “Julian, do you have your knife?”

The dog’s howls were wilder, more frantic, as if pleading with them to hurry, hurry!

With an efficient click, Julian swung open his pocketknife and knelt down. “Sit still, Claire, or I can’t cut you free,” he ordered, but the girl was squirming, her eyes wide with panic as if fighting to breathe. Maura peeled the tape off her mouth.

“It’s a trap!” Claire screamed. “He hasn’t left! He’s right …” Her voice died, her gaze fixed on something—someone—standing behind Maura.

Blood roaring in her ears, Maura turned and saw a man towering in the doorway. Saw broad shoulders and glittering eyes in a face smeared black with paint, but it was the gun in his hand she focused on. The silencer. When he fired, there would be no deafening blast; death would come with a muted thud, heard only in this stone room buried deep within the mountain.

“Drop your weapon, Mr. Sansone,” he ordered. “Do it now.”

He knows our names.

Sansone had no choice; he eased the gun out of his waistband and let it thud to the floor.

Julian, already kneeling beside Maura, reached out and grabbed her hand. Only sixteen, so very young, she thought, as they held hands, squeezing hard.

Bear howled again, a cry of rage. Of frustration.

Julian suddenly looked up, and she saw his bewildered expression. Realized, just as he did, that this did not make sense. If Bear’s still alive, why isn’t he defending us?

“Kick it toward me,” the man said.

Sansone nudged the gun with his shoe, and it slid across the floor. Stopped just short of the doorway where the man stood.

“Now down on your knees.”

So this is how it ends for us, thought Maura. All of us on our knees. A bullet to each head.

“Do it!”

Sansone’s head dipped in surrender as he dropped toward the floor. But it was only the windup to one last, desperate move. Like a sprinter exploding from the starting block, Sansone leaped straight at the gunman.

They both tumbled through the doorway, grappling desperately in the gloom of the wine cellar.

Sansone’s gun was still lying on the floor.

Maura scrambled to her feet, but before she could scoop up the weapon, another hand closed around the grip. Lifted the barrel to her head.

“Get back! Get back!” Teddy screamed at Maura. His hands were trembling, but his finger was already on the trigger as he aimed at Maura’s head. He yelled over his shoulder: “I’ll shoot her, Mr. Sansone. I swear I will!”

Maura dropped to the floor again. Knelt there, stunned, as Sansone was shoved back into the room and forced to his knees beside her.

“Is the dog secured, Teddy?” the gunman asked.

“I tied him to the kitchen cabinet. He can’t get loose.”

“Bind their hands. Do it quick,” the man said. “They’ll be getting here any minute, and we need to be ready.”

“Traitor!” Claire spat out as Teddy unpeeled strips of duct tape and bound Sansone’s wrists behind his back. “We were your friends. How can you do this to us?”

The boy ignored her as he moved on to Julian’s hands.

“Teddy tricked us into coming down here,” Claire said to Maura. “Told us you were waiting for us, but it was all a trap.” She stared at the boy, her voice thick with disgust. Doomed as she was, the girl was fearless, even reckless. “It was you. It was always you. Hanging those stupid twig dolls.”

Teddy peeled off another strip of tape and wound it tightly around Julian’s wrists. “Why would I do that?”

“To scare us. To freak us out.”

Teddy looked at her with frank surprise. “I didn’t do that, Claire. Those dolls were meant to scare me. To make me call for help.”

“And Dr. Welliver, how could you do that to her?”

A flash of regret registered in Teddy’s eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to kill her! It was just supposed to confuse her. She was working for them. Always watching me, waiting to see when I’d—”

“Teddy,” the man snapped. “Remember what I taught you? What’s done is done, and we have to move on. So finish the job.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy answered, cutting off another strip of tape. He wrapped it so tightly around Maura’s wrists that no amount of twisting or struggling would free her.

“Good boy.” The man handed Teddy a pair of night-vision binoculars. “Now get up there and watch the courtyard. Tell me when they arrive, and how many there are.”

“I want to stay with you.”

“I need you out of the line of fire, Teddy.”

“But I want to help!”

“You’ve helped me enough.” The man laid his hand on the boy’s head. “Your job is on the roof. You’re my eyes.” He glanced down at his belt as an alarm beeped. “She’s reached the gate. Headset on, Teddy. Go.” He pushed the boy out of the room and followed him out.

“I was your friend,” Claire screamed as the door swung shut. “I trusted you, Teddy!”

They heard the padlock thud into place. Up in the kitchen Bear was still barking, still howling, but the door muffled the sound, made it seem as distant as a coyote’s cry.

Maura stared at the closed door. “It was Teddy,” she murmured. “All this time, I never imagined …”

“Because he’s just a kid” was Claire’s bitter observation. “No one pays attention to us. No one gives us credit. Until we surprise you.” She looked up toward the ceiling. “They’re going to kill Detective Rizzoli.”

“She’s not coming alone,” said Maura. “She told me she’s bringing people. People who know how to defend themselves.”

“But they don’t know the castle like this man does. Teddy’s been letting him in after dark. He knows every room, every stairway. And he’s ready for them.”

In the kitchen, Bear had stopped howling. Even he must have grasped the futility of their situation.

Jane. It’s all up to you.