Sidney Sheldon & Tilly Bagshawe 3-Book Collection: After the Darkness, Mistress of the Game, Angel of the Dark

Cora said, ‘I don’ think it’s possible, Grace. A cat couldn’t fit in there.’

Grace smiled. ‘It’s possible. I was a gymnast when I was younger. Watch.’

Cora watched in awe as Grace climbed into the box, ass first, folding her tiny limbs around herself like a double-jointed spider. ‘Girl, that looks painful.’ She winced. ‘You sure you’re okay?’

‘It’s not exactly first-class travel, but I’ll live. Try the lid. Am I in?’

Cora tried it. Easy. About an inch to spare. She levered it open again. ‘You’re in. I’m gonna load the rest of ’em now. I’ll put you three rows back, so you’re hidden at the checkpoint, but leave the lid loose so you got some air.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Sit tight till you get through the checkpoint. Once you’re outta here, soon as the truck stops, you jump.’

‘Got it. Thanks, Cora. For everything.’

Good luck, Amazing Grace.

Cora Budds replaced the lid and carried Grace out into the darkness.

Warden McIntosh eyed Lisa Halliday suspiciously.

‘This had better not be some sort of scam.’

‘It ain’t.’

‘Grace Brookstein is in lockdown. She’s been in her cell since lunchtime. Besides, A-Wing prisoners never work on deliveries. Sister Agnes knows the policy.’

‘Sister Agnes don’t know her pussy from her paternoster.’

‘That’s enough!’ the warden snapped. ‘I won’t have you disrespecting our voluntary staff.’

‘Look. You don’t wanna check the truck? Fine. Don’t check it. Jus’ don’ say I didn’t warn you.’

Warden McIntosh did not want to check the truck. It had been a long day. He wanted to finish up his paperwork and get home to his wife. But he knew he had no choice.

‘All right, Lisa. Leave it with me.’

The darkness was disorienting. Grace heard the rear doors of the truck slam shut. For a moment fear gripped her: I’m trapped! But then she relaxed, forcing herself to take slow, even breaths. It was uncomfortable, coiled inside the crate like a marionette, but she could bear the position. The cold, on the other hand, was debilitating. Limb by limb, Grace felt her body start to go numb. Her head ached violently, as if she’d just sunk her teeth into an ice cube.

The engine rumbled to life. We’re moving. Soon, all Grace could hear was the beating of her own heart. She said a silent prayer:

Please God, don’t let them check all the boxes.

The thud was so loud, the driver heard it through his blaring Bruce Springsteen CD. One of the crates must have come loose.

‘What the fuck?’ Slamming on the brakes, he climbed out of the cab. Dumb-ass fucking dykes. How hard is it to stack a bunch of boxes? All they had to do was put ’em one on top of another.

Grace heard the rear door open. Rays from a flashlight seeped through the crack above her head, where Cora had left the lid loose. She held her breath

‘Goddamn it.’

Crates scraped noisily across the metal floor of the truck. The next thing Grace knew, her own box was moving. Oh God, no! He’ll see me. But the driver didn’t see her. Instead, pulling Grace’s crate forward, he noticed the loose lid and banged it shut with his fist. Then he lifted another box and piled it on top of Grace’s. The rear door slammed. Grace felt the lurch of the truck as it pulled away.

Cold beads of sweat broke out all over Grace’s body.

She had no air.

I’m going to suffocate.

Chapter Fourteen (#ulink_b3cda078-f48b-5694-b91b-3457c3db3f82)

Warden McIntosh stormed into the children’s center. All the kids had gone home. A lone inmate was clearing away the last of the toys.

‘You alone here?’

‘Yes, sir. I’m waiting for Sister Agnes to come back and lock up.’

‘There was a pickup scheduled for four P.M. today. Did that happen?’

‘I think so, sir. Cora Budds was in the storeroom.’

‘What about Grace Brookstein? Have you seen her in here this afternoon?’

‘No, sir. Cora tol’ me she’s in lockdown.’

Warden McIntosh relaxed. Lisa Halliday had gotten it wrong. Grapevine information was often unreliable at Bedford. Still, protocols had to be followed. He picked up the phone on Sister Agnes’s desk.

I’m going to die!

Grace was already hyperventilating. As she felt the truck stop, her hopes soared. They must be at the checkpoint. She tried to scream.

‘Help! Somebody help me!’

For weeks, she had dreaded this moment, terrified that the guards would discover her. Now she was terrified that they wouldn’t. Without air, she would die in this box long before the truck reached the depot

‘Help!’ She was yelling as loudly as she could, but her lungs didn’t seem to be working properly. The words came out soft and breathy, muffled by the crates above and to the side of her. The guards heard nothing.

‘What’s this lot, then?’

The driver handed over his paperwork. ‘Modeling clay. About two tons of the stuff.’

‘All right. Let’s take a look.’

The two guards began opening the first row of boxes.

Please! I’m here!

Grace knew in that moment that she didn’t want to die. Not yet. Not like this.