Page 5 of Halloween in Sleepy Hollow (Heroes of Sleepy Hollow #7)

THEA

“What am I supposed to do with the three of you?”

Our captor turns to us, gesturing with his gun in emphasis. “I had it all planned out,” he continues in an aggrieved tone. “Just those four.” He glances back at the four women tied up behind him. “Not three more.”

“You could let us go,” Ari suggests quietly. “Since you don’t want us here.”

“Let you go ?” He barks out a sharp laugh. “So you can turn me in? Ruin all my plans? I don’t think so.”

“What are your plans?” Shea asks. Her voice quivers, but her gaze is steady on him. “Why are we here?” She angles her chin at the four women sitting in a circle in the center of the floor. “And why are they here?”

The man—at least, I’m assuming it’s a man from the low timbre of his voice, since I can’t see his face beneath his costume—snaps, “That’s none of your business!”

Then he cocks the trigger and aims the gun at her. “I’m just about done listening to you. Keep your mouth shut or I’ll make sure you can’t talk. Permanently .”

Shea makes a tiny meep of fear as she cringes away from him. Her lips pinch into a narrow, quivering line. Tears well up in her eyes.

Ari flashes an angry look at our captor. Of all the women in here—seven, including the four who were taken before us—she’s holding up the best.

She’s scared, of course. How could she not be?

How could any of us not be?

Not when we’re all tied up and being held hostage in an old bank vault by a man in a Headless Horseman costume. A man with a gun, no less. And to make things even worse, a gun I’m not entirely sure he knows how to use properly.

Well. He knows how to cock the trigger. But he doesn’t know—or care—that you’re not supposed to do that until you’re absolutely ready to fire the gun. Before that, you’re supposed to keep your finger on the trigger guard, so it doesn’t fire accidentally.

No, I don’t use guns. But I have enough friends who do that I know how they work.

As I watch the agitated Headless Horseman start another anxious loop around the small room, a new and horrifying thought occurs to me.

Maybe he is ready to fire.

Maybe he’s going to shoot us right now.

Maybe he’s decided to eliminate us so he can continue with his original plan to…

What?

What was he planning to do with the other four women ?

There’s no good answer to that. Only ones that range from bad to worse.

One of the original four women—not Emily, but a blonde who I’m pretty sure I’ve seen in the library before—bursts into tears. But her sobs are muffled by the fabric gag tied around her mouth, so all I can hear are smothered gasps and loud sniffles.

I want to tell her to calm down. That crying will make it harder to breathe, especially with the gag. But I don’t want to risk raising our captor’s ire any more than we have already.

Not that we actually did anything aside from trying to help poor Emily.

But Headless Horseman, as I’m referring to him for lack of a better name, was furious when he found us.

As he marched us into the abandoned bank, he kept muttering things like, “ Why are women always poking their noses where they don’t belong,” and, “Stupid women always ruining everything.”

Apparently, he didn’t fasten Emily’s zip ties tight enough, and that’s how she initially escaped.

Headless Horseman explained that part while he wrenched fresh zip ties around her wrists, smiling grimly as she winced in pain.

“It’s your own fault,” he told her condescendingly.

“If you’d just stayed put like the others, your wrists wouldn’t have to hurt so much. ”

By that point, Ari, Shea, and I were already restrained.

He forced Shea to tie us up at gunpoint, watching her like a hawk to make sure she did it the right way.

“Tighter,” he urged Shea as she tentatively fastened the first zip tie around Ari’s wrists.

I could tell she was trying to give Ari a chance to escape, but Headless Horseman wasn’t having it .

Once Shea finished zip tying both Ari and myself—silently crying the entire time she did it—our captor took great pleasure in restraining her himself. “Think you’re so smart,” he told her in a mocking tone. “Talking back to me. How smart do you feel now?”

The three of us don’t have gags, like the others. But he’s made it abundantly clear if any of us try to call for help, he’ll shoot us immediately.

Honestly, I’m not sure if anyone could hear us, anyway. Not all the way in the back of the bank, with the thick walls surrounded us and the reinforced vault door shut.

As Headless Horseman starts pacing again, his footsteps echo hollowly throughout the room.

Light from several battery operated lanterns bounces off the rows of safe deposit boxes and casts an eerie glow across our faces.

As I glance around the room, noting the eight of us in here, I can’t help but wonder how long the air in here will last.

Normally, the vault would be ventilated. I know that from a documentary I watched with Ben about bank heists; how the vaults are designed to be fireproof, but for safety’s sake, there has to be a way for air to get in.

But that’s when the bank is open and running. Not when it’s been shut down for over a year. There’s a vent in the ceiling, yes, but is the ductwork still functional? Is there debris in it? Did the construction workers divert the flow while they were working in here?

My chest squeezes at the thought of a slow suffocation. Of my consciousness slowly slipping away, memories of Ben and Laila and Elias the last thing I see before everything fades to an infinite black .

No.

I refuse to consider it.

I’m not dying tonight.

I’m getting out of here. All of us are.

I glance at Ari, then Shea, exchanging a meaningful look with both of them.

We have to work together.

Draw this out until someone comes to rescue us.

They’re looking for us by now. I’m sure of it. There’s no way Ben wouldn’t be worried about me. Same with Cash and Oliver. Surely they’re out there, searching downtown Sleepy Hollow, looking for clues…

But what clues would there be?

Shea’s phone, for one. I didn’t miss how Headless Horseman left it behind in the alley, most likely forgetting about it in his rush to get us into the bank.

Mine is still in the library, and Ari’s is now a mess of plastic and glass shards over by the vault door, smashed into hundreds of pieces by the heel of Headless Horseman’s boot.

If only I had my earrings on; the ones I got from Blade and Arrow back when I first started dating Ben. They have little GPS trackers in them, so Ben and the guys at Blade and Arrow could find me.

Except…

Another glance around the room makes me wonder.

If the walls of the vault are made of concrete, I’m not sure if the signal would get through.

I sneak a look at Ari’s ears when our captor’s back is turned. But she’s wearing feathered earrings to match her pigeon costume and not the small studs Blade and Arrow gave her so many years ago.

Then I turn to look at Shea .

Gold glints from her ears.

Hope fizzes up.

She notices me looking and gives me a tiny nod.

Yes. They’re the earrings.

Under my breath, I ask, “Did you get to trigger them?” Because the earrings aren’t just good for passive tracking, They can be used to signal for help if the center of either one is pushed.

Shea flicks a fearful glance at Headless Horseman. But he’s not paying attention for once. Instead, he’s setting out black pillar candles in a circle in the center of the room, muttering to himself as he arranges them.

“I couldn’t,” she replies quietly. “I wanted to. But…” Her gaze dips to her crossed legs. “I was too scared.”

Guilt darkens her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she adds in an undertone. The gun… But I should have.”

“No, you did the right thing.” I wish I could pat her arm, hold her hand, do something to comfort her. But tied up like I am, all I can do is give her a weak smile. “It’s okay. The guys will find us.”

Somehow.

They have to.

By now, Ben, Cash, and Oliver must have called for reinforcements. Kane for sure, since he’s Oliver’s partner. Grant, most likely, since he’s already there. And Oliver would call Cole Mitchell with Blade and Arrow Security, since his sister, Maya, is married to him.

So that’s a lot of people looking for us, really. Smart people. People who’ve trained to rescue captives from dangerous situations. People who can find pretty much any information they need on the computer, like Ben.

Surely they’ll find us soon .

All we need to do is stay alive until then.

Then we can go home. Kiss our husbands. Cuddle our kids. Come up with a non-frightening reason why we disappeared in the middle of the Halloween festival?—

Elias’s sweet face comes to me, bringing with it the prickle of impending tears. My throat goes thick. My chest squeezes.

What must Elias be thinking?

Is he wondering where I am?

Does he think I deserted him?

And what about Laila? Did she call from the party? Text? Is she having a good time, or does she want me to come get her?

And Ben.

My Ben.

I have to see him again.

I want so badly to feel his arms wrapped around me, his comforting presence reassuring me that everything’s okay. That I’m safe. That?—

A tear trickles down my cheek, hot and stinging on my chilled skin. Another follows. And another.

Ari clears her throat quietly, drawing my attention. Compassion softens her gaze.

It’ll be okay , my best friend of over twenty years mouths to me. We’ll be okay.

I want to believe her. I want to believe in my own reassurances. But there’s a scared, skeptical part of me that can’t help wondering, What if it’s not okay?

What if I never make it home? What if Laila loses another mom? What if Elias has to grow up with me as just a faint memory, a framed photo on the mantle that he barely remembers ?

What if Ari doesn’t get to see Winnie grow up?

And Shea… She told us in confidence the other day that she and Oliver are finally trying for a baby.

“Oll was worried when I first brought it up,” she explained, “because of my eating disorder. I’ve been fine for years, but he was worried the changes in my body might trigger me.

But they wouldn’t. Not when I know the changes are from our baby growing inside me. ”

I make a small, choked sound as I try to contain the sob working to escape.

Shea glances at me. There’s understanding in her gaze.

“Sir?” Ari’s voice is soft and tentative. When Headless Horseman turns towards her, his fingers fingers flexing on the handle of the gun, she hurriedly adds in the same wispy tone, “I’m so sorry to bother you. But… could you please?—”

“Please what ?” he snaps. “Can’t you see I’m busy? And I told you to be quiet. Not to keep talking!”

“I know,” she replies. “But if you’re going to?—”

With an aggravated huff, our captor rips the headless neck from his costume and throws it to the side. Then he tears off the decorative ruffles from the front of his shirt. “ Fuck , it’s hot under there. I can barely breathe with all that shit on.”

As he reveals his face, my heart staggers drunkenly to a stop.

First, because he’s showing us his face, which is never a good sign when you’re being held hostage.

And second, because I know who he is.

Across the room, Emily’s eyes go huge. The redhead sitting beside her—dressed as Pippi Longstocking, which seems fitting—-lets out a strangled gasp.

“Randy?” Shea blurts. Horror flickers across her face the moment his name slips out. Two spots of red flare high on her cheeks.

His finger twitches on the trigger.

Ari quickly asks, “Randy? What… what are you doing ?”

I’d love to know the answer.

Why is Randy from the grocery store holding seven women hostage? Shy, quiet Randy who rings up our orders with no more than a mumbled thank you and have a nice day? Skinny Randy who looks like a slight wind could blow him away?

It doesn’t make sense.

Then again, does violence ever make sense?

Shouldn’t I know how the most unsuspecting person can be the most dangerous?

Randy’s gaze flickers between Ari and Shea.

I can tell he wants to yell at Shea for talking again. Possibly do worse than that.

But he also wants to respond to Ari. From her years of teaching high school students, she just has a way with people. Of engaging them and drawing them out. Of coming across as someone who truly wants to know how they’re feeling.

“Ms. Quinn,” he finally says. “Now I know who you are. You had my younger brother in school.”

Ari hesitates, thinking. Then she nods slowly. “Richard Monroe, right? He’s your brother?”

Headless Horseman—-no, Randy—jerks his head in response. “Yeah. He’s eight years younger than me.” He stops. “But he doesn’t know. What I’m doing. He’s too busy being big man on campus. He thinks he’s all that, playing football at Buffalo. He wouldn’t care about?— ”

Anger reddens his face. “Anyway. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” Ari soothes. “How you feel matters. Maybe if you tell me about it, we could work things through. Come up with a solution for this… situation we’re in.”

Randy stares at Ari long enough to make me think he’s considering her offer.

The he sets his shoulders and shakes his head. His tone hardens. “No. It’s too late for that.”

My breath catches.

“It’s never too late.” Ari flashes an encouraging smile at him. “We can fix this.”

He frowns at her. “How?”

“Well.” She drags out the word. “You could put down the gun. That would be a good start. And then we could talk this over. Come up with a way to let everyone go and solve whatever problem you’re facing.”

There’s another long hesitation before he responds.

Hope kindles in my chest.

Maybe it’ll work.

Maybe Ari can talk him into letting us go.

Then he shakes his head again. “Nope. There’s only one solution. For the ritual to work, I need four sacrifices. Not five or six or seven. And I can’t risk you messing it up. So that means the three of you”—he gestures at Ari, Shea, and me—“will have to die first.”