Oh no.

She scrambled to her feet.

Walker sauntered around the partition. “I should thank you, really, for making me realize Tommy is a dirty rat. I’ll clean the ranks when I take over the organization.”

Cassie realized someone was missing. “Where’s Ruiz?”

“My, my, you really are in deep with the police, aren’t you? How did you manage that, I wonder. A liaison with that detective—what’s his name again?” He turned to his henchman.

“O’Neill, sir,” one of them replied.

“That’s right. O’Neill. Now, if you had just let him take down the Tiatellis like I wanted, he would be safe and sound. Now, unfortunately, I’m going to have to add your beau to my hit list.”

“He’s not my beau.”

Walker stared at her for a moment, then laughed. “Interesting that is the part of the comment you choose to respond to.”

A commotion came from the entrance to the building. Walker peeked around the partition, then motioned to his fellows. The two men snuck off to the entrance.

“It seems your beau has come to me of his own accord. How convenient. My men will take care of this promptly.”

The sounds of struggle neared, with men shouting and grunting. She heard flesh smack against flesh and what sounded like a man landing hard on the floor.

With no way to help from inside the cell, Cassie turned her attention to her companions.

“Mrs. Walker, I presume?”

“Unfortunately,” the woman answered. “I married Horace to get away from the family business, and now he’s worse than any of them. No offense.” She smiled sheepishly at her brother.

Tommy sat beside her on the cot. “Our people would never use family as leverage in a deal. We still have principles.”

Shouts grew nearer, distracting Cassie from disentangling the moral values of crime families.

“Miss Woods?” It was O’Neill shouting to her.

Cassie went to the cell door. “We’re over here!”

A moment later, O’Neill appeared, pistol at the ready. When he saw her, he lowered it. His knuckles were scraped, but otherwise he looked unharmed. “You’re all right?”

She nodded, surprised by his concern.

“Who has the key?”

The ruckus continued out of sight, punctuated now by a single gunshot, which did nothing to stem the shouts.

Cassie thought hard, trying to recall anything distinctive about the men who had manhandled her. “A man in a brown vest,” she shouted, hoping only one man matched that description.

O’Neill disappeared. He returned a few minutes later dragging the man in the brown vest, now unconscious, across the floor. O’Neill rifled through the man’s pockets until he found the key. As soon as he unlocked the door, Cassie hurried out, followed by Mrs. Walker. Tommy started to leave, but O’Neill halted him with a firm hand to the chest. “You’re staying here, I’m afraid.” He pushed Tommy back inside and relocked the door. He turned to the two women. “Where’s Ruiz?”

“I don’t know,” Cassie said.

“He’ll be in the basement,” Tommy said from the cell.

O’Neill nodded at him. “Which direction?”

Tommy pointed ahead. “Stairs are that way.”

“Follow me,” O’Neill directed the women. “Stay close.”

The trio dashed across the open space to the stairwell. Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie glimpsed a smear of blood along the floor. O’Neill led them slowly down the stairs, his pistol raised. At the bottom, he crept into the basement.

When he didn’t reappear for a few minutes, Cassie grew worried. “Should we—” she whispered to Mrs. Walker.

“Shh!” Mrs. Walker hushed her.

O’Neill reappeared. “There’s a stack of crates to the left. Go hide behind them while I free Ruiz.”

He motioned the women to follow. Compared to the vast space above, the basement was surprisingly cramped. The boxes that the women crept behind lined two of the walls. When Cassie crouched in the dark, narrow space, with Mrs. Walker behind her, she was only a few feet from Ruiz, who sat tied to a chair, desperately trying to untangle the knots tying his wrists behind his back. His face was so swollen Cassie wondered if he could even see.

O’Neill holstered his pistol and began to untie his companion. A barely perceptible breath of air from behind Cassie alerted her to movement. From the other side of the stack of crates, a man emerged and dashed toward O’Neill.

Without thinking, Cassie ran from her hiding spot toward the same point. She grabbed O’Neill’s pistol from where she had seen him stash it and spun on her heel. In one motion, she cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger. The assailant grunted and fell, bleeding at the knee.

O’Neill hurried over and checked the man for weapons, claiming the man’s pistol for himself.

Cassie and O’Neill stared at each other in shock.

“I shot him,” Cassie said, trembling.

“I can see that.” He took the gun from her and left his hand resting on hers for a moment. She gazed at him, and thought she almost saw him smile…

From the top of the stairs, a voice called, “All clear up here, boss!”

“Come down and check here, too.” He shook his head. “Damn,” he muttered to himself. “How did I not see him hiding there?”

“Looks like we saved each other today.” Cassie grinned at O’Neill, but he returned it only with a frown.

Behind her, policeman filled the dank space, freeing Ruiz and chattering about their success. A moment later, Powolski appeared from amid the group. He stood in front of Cassie, saying nothing. For a moment she thought he was going to hug her. Then he slowly reached out his hand to shake hers. “Good work,” was all he finally said.

Six

“The police chief called me to complain about you two,” Ellerbee raged the next day. “Interfering in a police investigation! On a story I didn’t even authorize.”

Cassie and Powolski sat in Ellerbee’s office, looking appropriately apologetic while they listened to his tirade.

When his steam had run out, Cassie said, “But it will make for a great story. An eyewitness account from inside. Damsels in distress. I can write—”

“No. I can’t have women writing crime features. How would that look?”