Survival Instinct Read Online Free

there. Reasonable impatience, given that they had only moments to get out of view. “You just want to keep an eye on me.”
    “You could say that.” She crouched, knees open, and held her arms out. Damned if the big mutt didn’t walk right up and put his front legs on her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around him and stood, staggering slightly under the weight. Undismayed, the dog wagged his tail.
    And here Dave stood, looking at the dog. “Do you want me to—?”
    She laughed, a short sound but with true amusement. “Do you really want to?”
    Hmm. Maybe not.
    But she didn’t wait for a response backing down the ladder. For a moment, Dave hesitated—he had no reason to duck these men, and plenty of reasons to ask blunt questions of them. But as the crown of her sun-streaked hair disappeared into the dim hole, he found himself compelled to follow. He pulled the rug-topped door closed as he descended, and by the time he hit the uneven dirt floor, she’d put the dog down and left him to scent the air at the front of the basement.
    Dave took in the lay of the basement—ceiling low enough so he had to duck the joists, a hodgepodge of pier supports, steel shelving and a big workbench along the back. Some of the walls were dirt; some were concrete block. The furnace and water heater sat up against a surprising stone interior wall, one that closed off a small room. Hand-set stone. Older than old.
    But most importantly, there were two doors. One at the back corner, and another on the front.
    Dave fought the sudden impulse to climb right back out and approach the men head-on. So far he’d kept a low profile as a special consultant in the FBI’s investigation—in truth, the feebs were putting up with him. Don’t make waves, he’d been told. And he needed to know more before he could define just what might make waves.
    Ellen went to the front of the basement, where a dirt wall ran next to the porch itself, offering a small crawl space. She looked back and gestured to him— come on over —and he did, just as the men mounted the steps to the porch. It was eavesdropping of a most creative sort.
    Dave leaned close to Ellen. “You’re sure a simple conversation wouldn’t do the trick?”
    One man went to the front door, and another to the mudroom; both knocked. She said, “Aren’t you the trusting one?”
    He muffled his short laugh. “Far from it. But I think you’ve got me beat. You’re sure nothing’s happened to you besides that car accident?”
    She closed her eyes, took a sudden sharp breath…let it out slowly. “The accident was enough.”
    A second thought sobered him. “Your former boyfriend hasn’t made any threats, has he?”
    That drew her gaze, hard and sharp, the blue-gray a haunting shade in this dim light. He could have sworn she was going to say, “My former what? ” But then she gave a short shake of her head. “Not that I know of.”
    “You didn’t—” He stopped, cocked his head slightly. “Or maybe you did. Watch me when I first got here.”
    “Upstairs window.” And then she held up her hand. Listen.
    “I’m not sure this is the place,” one of the men said, a gravel-toned voice full of doubt. “He said she was the mousy sort. This place…someone’s working it.”
    “So maybe she hires out.”
    “He said she had a little money. What woman would live like this if she could afford a decent lifestyle?”
    Dave didn’t even have to be touching Ellen to feel her irritation. He had the uneasy feeling she’d turn out to be right after all—this visit had everything to do with his own arrival.
    The second man immediately confirmed his guess. “Who cares why she’s here? We’re supposed to find her, and we have. Too bad we didn’t beat Hunter to town, but we shouldn’t have any trouble.”
    Ellen stiffened. She turned to Dave with a glare that should have cut him in half; it struck unexpectedly deep. He shook his head slightly, just enough to tell her he had no idea who