Blood Flag: A Paul Madriani Novel by Steve Martini Read Free Book Online

away. In the distance she could hear the dog yapping. Finally! About time, she thought. She opened the door. The barking got louder, but the dog didn’t come out.
    “Where the hell are you?” She called him by name several times. “Here, Dingus!” All she got in reply was more barking. She flashed the light from her phone around the room. The dog continued to bark. If he was there he was hiding.
    The room looked like a study, a man’s office. Sofia figured it must have belonged to Emma’s father. There was a rolltop desk against the far wall and an old swivel-back wooden chair in front of it with some filing cabinets against the side wall on the left. The window was covered by what looked like an old olive-drab army blanket, dusty with cobwebs clinging to it.
    In her bare feet, Sofia was careful where she put them. She glimpsed a wooden yardstick next to the desk, shined the light on it, checked it for spiders, then picked it up. Using it like a sword she pulled the blanket off the curtain rod and suddenly the room came to life. Light from the house next door streamed in.
    The room was a mess. There were papers all over the floor, dust and cobwebs everywhere she looked. The trash in the can next to the desk was overflowing. Against the wall behind her was a gun rack. It held several rifles, all of them covered with dust. Everywhere she looked was a filigree of spiderwebs. A map on the wall to her right looked like Western Europe. She recognized France. There was a door next to the map that was closed.
    It had to be a closet, since there wasn’t room for much of anything else. Just beyond the room in that direction was the concrete wall outside. Next to the closed door, sitting on the floor, were two pairs of black leather boots, old and cracked, abandoned as if someone had forgotten to put them away, maybe fifty years ago. There was no doubt about it, the sound from the barking dog was coming from beyond the closed door.
    Sofia kept her eyes on it as she drew near. She held the light from her phone toward the opening side of the door, reached over, turned the knob, and pulled. As it swung open she expected to get her first glimpse of the dog as he came rushing out. But he didn’t. The closet was empty except for a few items of clothing on hangers. They looked like assorted pieces of old military uniforms. She could hear the dog more clearly now. It was coming from somewhere down, beneath the floor. He couldn’t be more than a few feet away. The barking was incessant, almost constant. To Sofia it sounded like a dog who had gotten himself in trouble. Wherever he was, he wanted out.
    She flashed the light toward the floor inside the closet and saw the inlaid brass finger pull. It was countersunk into the thick hardwood flooring. She ran the light across the floor to the other side of the closet and saw the brass hinges on the back of the trapdoor.
    Sofia wasted no time. She stooped over, reached down, put her finger through the loop in the brass, and pulled. The door was heavy, three foot square, solid wood, three inches of oak flooring and subfloor. She jerked it with all her strength and slowly it started to come up.
    It was a good thing Sofia didn’t have to lift it out. She could never have done it alone. It was all she could do to raise the door on its hinges and lean it against the wall on the other side of the closet.
    As she looked down into the darkness she could hear the dog yapping wildly. She shined the light down into the yawning hole. Two gleaming eyes set into the black fuzzy face shined back at her. Dingus bounced and barked like a rubber ball all over the concrete floor in the cellar. Sofia didn’t have to be a dog interpreter to realize he was overjoyed that someone was finally coming to get him.
    “How did you get down there?” She looked at the fixed ladder, almost vertical, straight up and down. There was no way the dog could have climbed down. The drop to the floor below was at least ten feet.