Page 27 of Reset

“That’s one way to put it,” he said through a grin. “Not sure abductions are ever expected, Stats.”

A warmth spread through his chest when she smiled. “Are you seriously laughing at me right now?”

“I’m contemplating it. You’ve no idea how hilarious you are.” Ryan got to his feet, tugging her up with him.

“Only to you. And that says a lot.”

She probably didn’t mean it as a compliment, but that didn’t stop him taking it as one. “Let’s get this over with so we can find a way out of here.”

Sarah squared her shoulders, held onto his hand with a viselike grip, and nodded.

A strange surge of pride overcame him. “So damn courageous,” he muttered as he led her back into the chamber that caused her terror.

“Not even close.” Sarah squeezed his hand. “Please, don’t let go of me.”

“No chance of that.” Ryan held his phone light in front of them as they stepped through the doorway.

CHAPTER EIGHT

No matter what Ryan thought, Sarah did not feel courageous. Mainly, she felt cornered. It was face the fear, or curl into a ball and weep until she faded away. Ryan, on the other hand, was a massive rock—immovable, unbreakable, strong against anything that was thrown at it. Every second they spent together, in their underground prison, made Sarah believe they might actually have a chance of getting out. Purely because Ryan told her so and his confidence was contagious.

“You okay?” he asked, keeping the light away from the corner with the body.

No! “Yes.”

“Liar.” He grinned at her.

Without asking again if she was ready to continue, he directed the light where it needed to go—at the spot where the hair had ensnared her.

It was possible her heart stopped beating for a split second as she forced herself to look down at the floor. At the spot where the body lay. Adrenaline coursed through her as she realized the remains of the woman were nowhere near as horrific as she’d imagined. The woman looked like a dried-up doll, discarded by a careless child. Instead of horror, all Sarah felt was sadness.

She glanced at Ryan. “Is she…?”

“Mummified? Yeah. That’s why we didn’t smell any decomp.”

The body lay on its side, face pressed to the wall, arms curled up against her chest. Her legs were stretched out into the dark corner. It was impossible to tell what her ethnicity might have been, as her skin had the appearance of tan-colored leather.

Long auburn hair, wild and matted, lay around her shoulders. Chunks were missing where Ryan had cut it, which somehow felt like an added abuse the woman had been made to suffer. Her dress was dirty and torn, when once it had been white with a red flower pattern. Beside her lay a red leather handbag covered in dust.

What a sad and lonely place to die. Sarah’s heart ached for her. “She isn’t ancient. How can she be mummified?”

Ryan crouched down to get a better look, still keeping hold of Sarah’s hand, which she appreciated.

“Under the right circumstances, it can take as little as three weeks to mummify a body. We’re surrounded by limestone, which absorbs water. The air is dry, the temperature constant. I bet it didn’t take long for her to end up like this.” When he glanced up to find Sarah gaping at him, he shrugged. “Spent time in Peru chasing a stolen mummy, picked up a thing or two. Do you think you’d be okay if I let go of your hand for a minute? I want to see what’s in her bag.”

“Can we check the rest of the room first? Make sure there’s nothing else lurking in the dark.” And yes, she was that wimpy.

“Sure.”

Together they walked the room. Thankfully, there were no more bodies. Only an empty water bottle lying on the other side of the room, which Ryan tucked into their bag, and five tiny candles. All used up.

Icy tentacles of unease worked their way up Sarah’s spine at the familiar sight of the candles. Then, as the beam of light skimmed over the woman’s feet, she gasped. Her hand flying to cover her mouth. There was an iron manacle around one of the woman’s ankles, tethering her to the wall with a heavy chain.

He frowned at the manacle. “Now, I’m really glad I remembered how to pick a lock.”

Going back to the handbag, Ryan released her hand and crouched down to open it. Sarah stood close, needing to feel his courage and strength to ground her.

“Adrienne Toussaint,” he read out loud as he rifled her wallet. “Twenty-six, from Quebec in Canada—that’s from her driver’s license. Nothing else in here but Canadian-issued bank cards and a photo of, presumably, her and her boyfriend.” He held it up for Sarah to see.