Wellspring (Paskagankee, Book 3) by Allan Leverone

a
cold-blooded killer? This was worse than anything he had imagined since seeing
Matt Fulton gunned down. How could he be expected to function over the next few
hours, knowing Sarah was trapped in there with this…this…amoral madman?
Wondering what he was doing to her, how he was hurting her, what liberties he
might be taking with her?
    Again
the stranger grinned. It was as if he could see straight into Luke’s head. “Who
knows?” he said. “Maybe we’ll have us a little party, you know, just to pass
the time.”
    The
urge to rush the man was almost overwhelming. Luke wanted to hit him, strangle
him, to send him to hell where he belonged. Luke was willing to risk taking a
bullet to the brain just to bring an end to this madness. He even took a step
forward, his hands clenched into fists.
    But
then the stranger lifted his Colt and pointed it, not at Luke but at Sarah.
    The
gunman’s cold eyes locked onto Luke’s and he said, “Not one more step, friend,
or your last memory of your wife will be of seeing her brains splattered all
over the walls of this basement.”
    Luke
froze, his hands still balled at his sides.
    “That’s
better,” the stranger said. “Now, you listen to me. Don’t say or do nothin’ out
of line, and both you and your little woman will walk out of this place
tomorrow with nothin’ worse than a few unpleasant memories. But if you go to
the sheriff, if you tell my old friends where I’m hiding, or if you say
anything to anyone about that dead body you helped dump in the woods, the next
time you see pretty little Sarah, you ain’t gonna be pleased with the changes
in her appearance. Got it?”
    Luke
nodded, swallowing hard. A black despair unlike anything he had ever
experienced washed over him.
    “But
there is a bright side. I was just funnin’ ya about getting close to your wife.
She ain’t my type. Hell, I’ll bet she ain’t ever even had more’n one man at a
time.”
    “What? I never!” Sarah said
angrily, her face flushed.
    The
stranger smiled, cruel and hard. “See?” he said. “Not my type, so as long as
you do exactly as you’re told and don’t step outta line, you got nothin’ to
worry about on that front. Take too long, though, and that could change,” he
added with a sly grin. “My type or not, a man’s got needs, and like the sailors
say, ‘any port in a storm,’ ain’t that right?”
    The
man’s mocking, teasing tone disappeared in an instant, and his voice turned
icy. “So, do we understand each other, friend?”
    Luke
nodded, unable to find the strength to form words.
    “Good.
Now, come with me, little lady.” The stranger half-turned and indicated the
earthen passageway with a flourish.
    Sarah
looked stricken. She stared at Luke with horror in her eyes. Then she trudged
forward, head down, like a condemned prisoner walking to the gallows. As she
passed, Luke reached out and gave her forearm a quick squeeze. She eased past
the stranger without meeting the man’s eyes and then disappeared down the
gloomy passageway.
    The
stranger winked at Luke and then said, “All you have to do now is close this
here magic door, and you’ll be on your way to saving your little woman.”
    Luke
moved slowly forward. He was confused. There was no need for him to pull the
lever to close the granite slab. The whole point of the design was to eliminate
the need for a second person to be in the basement if a slave was forced to
hide quickly. There was plenty of time for the stranger to pull on the lever
and then get out of the way of the slow-moving granite block as it swung
closed.
    He
reached the basement wall and stopped directly in front of the stranger,
sliding his hand into the seam between the massive chunks of granite to locate
the lever. As he did, the stranger said, “I ain’t convinced you won’t run to
the law the minute this here door closes, even if I do have your beautiful
bride with me.”
    Luke
shook his head. “I…what are you talking