The Missing

Chapter 69

It seemed to take forever to find their way out of the maze.

Darby stood on the opposite end of the dungeon, in a corridor with four identical cages. She knew she was on the other side because this corridor had an extra steel door armed with four padlocks. She used the keys. It was the only time Carol let go of her hand.

A ladder bolted against the wall led up to a basement illuminated with soft light coming from an opened door on the far left, across from the stairs. Darby approached the door, Carol's hand gripped fiercely in her own.

Six video monitors were set up on top of an old desk. Each screen showed a prison cell in dark green color – night vision. Evan and Boyle had installed surveillance cameras equipped with night vision so they could watch their prisoners. All the cells were empty.

Evan's clothes were neatly folded on top of a table. His cell phone was lying on top of his wallet, along with his car keys.

Darby was about to head into the room with Carol when she spotted the various costumes draped over mannequins. The heads were covered in Halloween masks – some store bought, some homemade. Behind the mannequins was a Peg-Board-covered wall holding various weapons – knives, machetes, axes and spears.

'I want you to stand outside here for just a moment,' Darby said. 'Stand right here, okay? I'll be right back.'

Darby picked up the cell phone and keys and saw a locked door. One of the keys opened it. Inside she found a locked filing cabinet and a wall crammed full of pictures of the women who had been brought here. She tried the keys on the cabinet. None of them worked.

In some of the pictures, the women were smiling. In others, they were frightened. Mixed among them were horrible snapshots showing how they had been killed. Darby imagined Boyle and Evan standing in here, staring at the pictures as they put on their costumes, getting ready for the hunt.

Darby stared at all the faces until she couldn't bear to look at them anymore. She grabbed Carol's hand, grateful for its warmth, and headed up the basement steps into the first floor of the old house. The lights worked. No furniture, just cold and empty rooms full of decay. Several of the windows had been boarded up.

Darby opened the front door, hoping to find a street sign. There were no street lights out here, just darkness and a cold wind blowing across rolling, empty fields. The rundown farmhouse behind them was the only home out here.

Evan's car, she remembered, had a GPS unit. She found his car parked behind the farmhouse. Darby started the car and cranked up the heat.

Their location was on the GPS screen. Darby gave the 911 operator the address and requested more than one ambulance. She didn't know if any of the other women in the basement were still alive.

'Carol, do you know the phone number for your next-door neighbors who live across your driveway? The white house with the green shutters?'

'The Lombardos. I know their number. I babysit for their kids sometimes.'

Darby dialed the number. A woman answered the phone, her voice thick with sleep.

'Mrs Lombardo, my name is Darby McCormick. I'm with the Boston Police Lab. Is Dianne Cranmore there? I need to speak with her immediately.'

Carol's mother came to the phone.

'I have someone here who would like to speak to you,' Darby said, and handed the phone to Carol.