Free Hidden Motive by Hannah Alexander Page A

into the low sixties, maybe lower. Murph restocked the fireplace with wood from a rack beside the hearth.
    Meanwhile, Dillon sniffed at the basement door at the end of the wide hearth. He pawed at the door, then looked at Murph.
    Reminded of an old Lassie show, Murph opened the door.
    The dog leaped down the narrow steps, and with a growl disappeared into the darkness. Murph grabbed a flashlight from the shelf at the head of the stairway and joined the dog, who hovered at a short, open doorway about three feet square at the far end of the large concrete basement. Past the doorway was the gaping mouth of the cave.
    Murph’s love of caves had always attracted him to Missouri, which boasted more caves than any other state. More important right now, this cave seemed to be a source of fascination for Dillon.
    Murph looked down at his bare feet, then back toward the entrance. His feet were tough.
    He dropped to his knees and crawled through the cave mouth, shining his light ahead. A sound of shuffling reached him from the darkness, but before he could identify the source, Dillon barked.
    Murph turned. The dog still hovered at the cave mouth, hackles raised. The sound didn’t come again. Bats, maybe? Was there another entrance to this cave? Sable had said the cave would provide an escape if necessary.
    A few feet farther, he discovered that the narrow mouth opened into a wide cavern. He straightened, inhaling the moist air while playing his light over gray-and-white formations. He studied the path, scoured by footprints in the solid, limestone floor. The path wandered past a regal column of white to a ledge of stone about twenty feet ahead. This natural wall blocked his view and cast the cavern into patches of shadow that undulated with the movement of the beam.
    The sound came again from behind the rock ledge, a shuffling noise…like the cautious tread of a human foot.
    â€œHello?” Murph’s hand tightened on the flashlight.
    No answer.
    â€œSable? It’s me. Murph. Are you back there?”
    Silence.
    He reached beneath his shirt and slid the holster into position, then crept forward, ducking beneath a stalactite. The shadows fell away as he stepped past the rock ledge, and the cavern opened into another room.
    Someone darted out from the shadows of the ledge and stumbled against a boulder. Dillon barked.
    The sudden glare of a flashlight split the darkness. The broad-shouldered figure straightened. Simmons.
    â€œOut for a morning stroll?” Murph asked.
    Simmons trained his light on the dog, who had joined Murph in the cave. “You got a problem with that?”
    â€œDid you ask permission to come down here?”
    There was an annoyed silence. “Did you? ”
    â€œNot unless you count Dillon’s invitation.” Murph leaned against a boulder and aimed his light around the walls of the cave. “Interesting place, isn’t it?”
    â€œWeird place,” Simmons muttered. Murph noted the muscles that bulged beneath the long-sleeved T-shirt Simmons had found in the attic last night. He was probably about five-ten, which was three inches shorter than Murph. Murph guessed he weighed about 190, without an ounce of fat.
    â€œI love caves,” Murph said, aiming his light at some soda straw formations to the far right of the room. “It amazes me what God can do even in the absence of light.”
    Simmons gave a sudden snort. “You like to hang out with bats and talk about God?”
    â€œIf you don’t like bats, what are you doing down here?”
    Simmons brushed his fingers through his curly brown hair, which had frizzed from the moisture in the cave. “Think any of the passages lead anywhere? You know, like to civilization?”
    â€œNo one mentioned it last night, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. You must be in a hurry to get to the hospital.”
    Simmons aimed his flashlight up the side of the cave wall.
    â€œI hope your mother’s doing