Free Endless Fear by Adrianne Lee Page B

rushed to him. “Must have crossed the wires. Are you all right?”
    “ Sure. Surprised me is all.”
    All but forgotten, April left them to their work.
    The garages were a couple hundred yards from the dock, up the asphalt lane. Made of stone and mortar like the house and tool shed, the building had originally been a stable. With the advent of electricity and motorized vehicles, the barn gates had been replaced with garage doors, the packed earth floor with concrete, and the oil lamps with electric lights.
    Six truck-wide doors graced the front, while two human-sized ones allowed access at either end of the building. The one nearest the dock stood open. April hastened inside.
    Murky light slithered through the grimy window set eight feet up the back wall, but it was enough for her to see the cobwebs massed on the high open beams supporting the roof, and that the car parked here was not the one she sought.
    From somewhere deep inside the garages, a car motor started.
    Imagining how the building must have looked in her great-great- grandfather’s era, April proceeded through the swinging doors separating each stall from the next. Surprisingly, the individual chambers were huge, better suited to the luxury cars of the sixties than the compact, gas-efficient models now occupying them. And yet, for all the modernization April felt the old building had retained a sense of its originality. She could almost smell the hay and the horse manure lingering in the shadowy corners.
    The idling motor grew insistently louder with her progress. Evidently, whoever had entered the building before her and left the door ajar was going somewhere, most likely Friday Harbor.
    In the fifth stall, she found her rented compact. The rumbling engine emanated from the sixth. Although the cells were partitioned, the ventilation left a lot to be desired, April thought, getting a whiff of exhaust.
    Best to get her sunglasses and leave. She spotted them on the dashboard, and seconds later was stuffing them into her pocket.
    The running motor revved. Exhaust crept beneath the wall like smoke from a blazing room. April coughed, frowning disgustedly at the wall as though the person in the unit beyond could see her and would stop the car. Or exit the garage. Surely, the engine was warm by now.
    April felt an uneasy prickling. Maybe she’d better see if the driver in the next stall was all right.
    She pulled the separating door open and leaned into the garage. Her father’s Cadillac Seville hogged the chamber like the old white elephant it was, wheezing foul air from its bent tailpipe. No one was behind the wheel, and as she’d suspected the huge door was shut. “Hello? Is someone here?”
    Holding her nose, April stepped across the threshold. The swinging door bumped shut against her backside. Intent on turning off the engine, she sank to the driver’s seat. The aromas of pipe tobacco and childhood memories surrounded her as she reached for the key. Her hand froze. “What the…?”
    There was a hole where the ignition should have been. Obviously her father’s handiwork. Lord, why hadn’t she taken the time to look at the device so she’d know what she was supposed to do to turn it off?
    Well, she certainly wasn’t going to sit here and wonder about it. Rushing into the smog-laced cell, she sped to the single outside door on the side wall. Locked. Exhaust fumes burned her eyes and stole her breath. With her hand cupping her mouth and nose, she fled to the swinging door leading to the unit containing her car. She gripped the knob and pushed. The door wouldn’t budge. Alarm burst through April.
    Dear God! She was trapped! Cold curled in her belly. This was no accident.
    She threw her shoulder against the door. It resisted. April hit it again. Nothing. She gulped a lungful of fumes. Then coughed. Her head started to pound.
    Frantic, she raced to the big door and clutched the chrome handle. The lock refused to release.
    “ Help!” she screamed.
    The