He dropped to the floor, searching under the bed. Nothing.
Where could she be?
A man called from another room, “I found something! In here!”
Jaxon hurried to find the officer pointing to another door in the landing area—one he hadn’t noticed when he’d first come up the stairway.
“The door’s locked, but the lock is on this side. And look… There’s blood on the handle.”
Part 16: Bloody Rose
TRIPPING AT THE TOP of the stairs, pain shot through Elyssa’s left ankle. Scrambling to her feet, she limped to the door leading to the rooftop stairway and grasped the knob. Locked. Of course it was locked, but why wasn’t the key in the lock where she always kept it? No time. Hobbling as rapidly as possible, she pushed the lock on the bathroom door and shut it. She hurried into her bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind her. Anything to slow him down. She hurried to her window and climbed through onto the fire escape. Outside on the metal platform, she shut the window behind her and crouched to the side.
A loud slam told her he’d knocked one of the doors open. If he opened the window he’d see her. Options? Lower the fire escape ladder? But the noise would attract his attention. She’d never get away in time. In the distance, she heard the wail of sirens. Maybe Jaxon had called nine-one-one. Could she climb over the rail and hide under the metal landing until help came?
Slipping up and over the metal bars, she winced at the pressure on her left ankle. Blessing her jeans and sensible footwear, she slid down the metal bracing beneath the balcony, leaving some skin from the palms of her hands on the rusty railing. Reaching the wall, she was able to maneuver onto the top side of the brace. Resting on the biting metal, her muscles trembled from the effort. Or maybe they trembled from adrenaline.
She heard the window open above her, and a raspy singsong voice chilled her to the bone. “Where are— you—?”
She froze. Could he see her through the open weave of the landing? The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She held her breath. The keening sirens grew closer. The window creaked. Did he close it? Or had he opened it wide to climb outside?
She tried to gauge the distance to the alley below. It was too far, even if she could hang from the bracing. She listened. Muffled screaming and shouting emanated from her apartment. Is that Jaxon’s voice? What if he hurts Jaxon? I shouldn’t have called him.
She dared to look toward the window, craning her neck, but she couldn’t see inside. The sirens stopped. Are the police here? Twisting, she pushed up with her arms, raising her head for a better angle. But the only thing she could see through her apartment window was the ceiling. How would she know when it was safe to climb back up? If the police caught the crazy guy, surely they would look for her. Would they think to open the window and look outside?
She shifted her hands for a higher hold, inching up the brace. The metal bit into her shins as she pushed up.
A muffled voice called inside the apartment, “Elyssa!”
Is that Jaxon? It has to be him. The crazy guy didn’t know my name.
“Jaxon!” Her voice dissipated in the alleyway. She strained, scooting up the brace. Reaching the bottom of the platform, she realized she needed to turn around to climb up the outside. She locked her legs around the brace and shifted her weight, flipping to the underside of the bar, ignoring the abrasion of her hands. The sharp iron bit into her calves and her left ankle throbbed, but she held tight. She was almost there. Holding tight with her right hand, she reached with the left to grab the edge of the platform. Why does it seem so much harder going up than when I climbed down?
She moved her right hand to the grasp the floor of the balcony. Her fingers slipped.
*****
“Can't we bust the door in?” Jaxon felt sick at the sight of the blood on the door handle. Please don’t let it be Elyssa’s.
“No, the door opens this direction. But we might be able to take it off the hinges.” The young officer, who was examining the door, bounded down the stairway.
“Can’t you blow the lock off with your gun?” Jaxon paced, imagining Elyssa lying in the next room, bleeding to death.
The gray-haired officer shook his head. “No, you can’t really shoot a lock off—that doesn’t work except in movies."
“Here,” called the young officer, as he rushed back up the stairs with a hammer and flathead screwdriver.
He made quick work of the three hinge pins, and the men grappled the door open.
“It’s a stairway. It must go to the roof. Maybe she’s up there.”
“But he came back inside and locked the door,” Jaxon reasoned. "Why would he lock her on the roof?”
The grey-haired policeman shrugged. “I don’t know, but she has to be somewhere. Jennings… Cooper… Check out the roof. The rest of you, fan out and look for her.” He turned back to Jaxon. “Could she have made it to her car and driven away?”
He shook his head. “Her car is parked in its usual spot. And the back door was locked from the inside. Wait—maybe she went out the fire escape. Maybe she got away.” His heart leapt for joy as he rushed to the window and flung it up. He leaned outside and peered at the landing. His throat closed up.
The officer stared over his shoulder. “Oh, the ladder’s still up. That’s too bad. I was hoping…”