She bit down hard. Drew her head back fast. This time her tooth scraped through the plastic, caught and she was able to make a little tear. She grabbed both of the tiny ends with her fingers, which promptly slipped off the tape. Damn! She was damp with sweat, her heart knocking, time running out.

She grabbed the ends of the tape again and pulled.

Rrrriiiip.

She was through!

She flung herself to her bare feet just as she heard the sound of footsteps in the hall beyond.

Come on, you cocksucker, she thought, still slightly unsteady. She clasped her hands together, intended to use them like a club once she’d knocked the bastard off his feet. Come on, come on. She was keyed up. Ready. Every muscle taut when she heard keys rattling on the other side of the door.

As soon as the door swung open she rounded on him, her bare foot slamming into his shins.

He howled in surprise, but didn’t go down. Kristi didn’t bother hitting him, just sprang through the open door and yanked it shut behind her.

Locks tumbled into place.

Breathing hard, she felt a rush. She’d turned the tables on him! But for how long? She took off down a darkened hallway and didn’t look back. She only had a few seconds.

He still had the keys.

Jay flew up the back steps of Wagner House and tried the door.

Locked.

No problem. He kicked in the nearest window and flung himself through just as he heard other footsteps clamoring up the porch: Bentz, Montoya, and Kwan. Jay found the doorway to the basement and tried it.

Another damned lock.

This time he kicked at the panels, but the door wouldn’t budge. He swore, looked around the kitchen, and found a metal stool. He was about to crash it into the knob when Mai Kwan climbed through the window he’d just broken.

Mai rolled to her feet and shouted, “Stand back.” Her weapon was already out of its holster. She shot at the handle of the door, springing the lock and shattering wood as Bentz, too, heaved himself through the broken window. Montoya was on his heels.

Jay didn’t wait. Using a penlight, he hurried down the stairs, half expecting a sniper to be waiting, ready to pick him off. But with Mai one step behind, he made it unscathed.

Bentz hit the lights and everything came into sudden, sharp relief.

The large, open room was filled with crates, old furniture, boxes of knickknacks, even photographs. A behemoth of a furnace with ducts stretching upward like metallic arms filled one corner, an empty coal bin another, a fuse box, wires long cut, sat next to a newer electric panel.

“Search the walls,” Mai ordered. “Look for another way out.”