Page 74 of Cutter’s Lady

Crisscrossing the two sides of the frame and supporting the mattress above it was a network of thick hemp ropes.

“What about it?” Leslie asked.

“Help me unfasten the knots. This is the closest thing we have to a weapon.”

“A weapon?” Leslie couldn’t imagine it was much of one, but she did as he said.

They worked at the knots all morning and most of the afternoon. The knots were old and stubborn. Leslie broke three fingernails and rubbed her fingertips raw, but at last they had disconnected two medium-length ropes.

“What are you going to do with those?”

For an answer, Cutter wrapped the ends several times around his hands and pulled the rope taut between. Leslie swallowed. “Oh.” It seemed a very primitive weapon. She hoped she wouldn’t have to see him use it.

They sat down to wait. It began to grow dark outside. “What do you suppose he’s doing? What’s taking so long?” Leslie asked finally.

“I suspect he’s arranging an ‘accident’ for us. He probably acted on the spur of the moment this morning when he followed Blake, then decided to stick us away here while he figured out what to do.”

Leslie started to speak again, but Cutter stiffened and held up his hand. He moved silently to the door and leaned his head against it. “Somebody’s coming,” he hissed. “Get over against that wall.” He wrapped the rope around his hands and positioned himself behind the door. Leslie went to the far wall. Her hands were icy. She wanted to close her eyes, but she made herself keep them open. Cutter might need her help.

A key scraped in the door, and the bolt clicked. Slowly the door opened. “Leslie?” a voice whispered.

Leslie sagged with relief. It was Blake.

“Leslie? Where are you?” Blake peered into the dim room, not anxious to step inside. “Come on out. It’s me.” When Leslie didn’t answer, he went on rapidly, “Please, Leslie. Come on! I have to get you out before he comes back. He and Moreno have gone to hire some more men.”

Leslie looked at Cutter. She could barely see his shrug through the darkness. She supposed he was letting her be the judge of Blake’s sincerity. But what did she know about Blake? She’d had ample proof this morning that she hadn’t really known him at all. She hesitated for a moment, then walked out into the hallway.

Cutter followed her. Blake glanced down at the rope between Cutter’s hands and blanched. He looked away quickly. “Uh, LeFevre’s taken the Mercedes. I’m afraid we’ll have to walk.”

Cutter tossed him a contemptuous look. “Where’s my gun?”

“In LeFevre’s study, I think. I put it on his desk.”

“Let’s get it.”

Blake reluctantly led them down the hall to the study.

Cutter picked up the pistol and handed it to Leslie. “Here. Don’t hand it over to the ex.” He crossed the room to a large, antique gun case and tugged at the handle. It refused to open. Cutter grabbed a paperweight from the desk and smashed the glass, then pulled out a shotgun. “Where does he keep the ammunition?”

Blake shrugged. “I—I don’t know. I’ve never noticed. What are you planning to do?”

“I’m not running out of here like a jackrabbit, for one thing.”

“Why not?” Blake protested, his voice rising. “We have to leave. Leslie…”

Leslie silenced him with a look. “Cutter knows what he’s doing.”

“Thank you.” Cutter sent her a small, private smile. Even in her fear, it warmed her down to her toes. He turned back to Blake, all business. “Look, Westfield, you’re going to have to make up your mind whose side you’re on. You can’t straddle the fence, or certain portions of your anatomy could get badly injured.”

“Why do you have to confront him?”

“Because I don’t want to leave that guy loose to chase me all the way to the airport. I don’t like waiting for a knife in the back or a shot from a car. So I’ll deal with LeFevre right here. We have the advantage of surprise. Now, where will he come from?”

“Up the road, as we did this morning.”

“Where does he park?”

“The carport. Then he’ll come in the front door, I guess. It’s the closest.”