(This Chapter deals only with our Della and her current predicament. As always a million thanks to Karen B. my collaborator and beta for her help and wonderful ideas.)

Chapter 11

Della fought her way back from a deep sleep. The only thought drifting through her fogged mind was of Perry. She needed Perry. Slowly she managed to open her eyes. She was in a bed, but the room was unfamiliar. She struggled to sit up and put her feet on the floor.

In the dim light cast by a bedside lamp, she took in her surroundings. The room was neat and obviously furnished by a feminine hand. Besides the bed, there was a large wardrobe, a vanity table and a small desk. Delicate ruffled curtains hung at the single window. Although the décor was pleasant, it was definitely not up to the standards of the Biltmore Hotel. A little unsteadily, she stood and walked to the wardrobe. The clothes inside definitely belonged to a woman. Della noticed they were almost her size.

Just as she closed the door of the wardrobe, the bedroom door opened and a man in a policeman's uniform walked in.

"Ah, Miss Street. I'm glad to see you're awake. I'm sure you'd like to freshen up."

Della glared at him. "What I would like, Mr.…well…Mr. Whoever-you-are, is to be taken back to my hotel right this minute. How dare you..." A wave of dizziness washed quickly over her and she tried to collect her thoughts. She suddenly remembered the cop from the shop at the hotel. What was it that his ID had said? Kendrick? Kendall? That was it. If that was his real name.

The man leaned against the door frame. "I'm afraid that's not going to be possible. You are going to be here for quite some time. Now the bathroom is down the hallway, the door at the end. When you've finished, I will be downstairs in the living room." He started to turn away, then looked back at her. "And I should warn you, the windows have bars. I'll be waiting." With that he walked out, leaving the door standing open. Della was shaken and more than a little mad.

As soon as Kendall had left the room, Della crossed to the window and pulled back the curtain. He had been telling the truth; there was a steel grate covering the window. A tree with dense foliage completely blocked the view. That left the door as the only way out of the room. She padded softly across to the doorway, and after first peeking both ways to make sure that her captor had indeed left her alone, she slowly walked down the hallway, keeping her hand on the wall to steady herself.

Once in the bathroom, Della did her best to straighten her clothes and hair. She ran a cold washcloth over her face. She stood for a moment, staring at her reflection in the mirror, and wondered if Perry knew she was gone yet. How long had she been here? How had this man gotten her out of the hotel? She remembered stepping into the secret passage with the officer, then… What had happened? Things were still jumbled in her mind. Perry. He had to be so worried. She knew in her heart that he would not stop looking until he found her.

A knock on the bathroom door startled her. "Miss Street, are you okay?"

"Yes." Della figured she might as well try to put on an air of civility and cooperation, hoping she could find out who this man really was and where he had taken her. And then she would figure out how to escape. She opened the door and stepped into the hall.

The man was leaning casually against the wall across the hallway. "Are you hungry?"

Della nodded. "Will you at least tell me your name?"

He stood straight, gesturing for her to precede him down the hall. "You already know. It's Robert Kendall. And before you ask, yes I am a police officer."

Della slowly made her way to the stairs, holding onto the railing and descending carefully.

"To your right is the living room." Della turned and entered a tastefully decorated room.

"Would you mind telling me what you did to me?"

As Della seated herself on the couch, Kendall went to the fireplace and threw two more logs onto the already large fire. "Just a sedative. I might have given you a little too much. I do apologize."

Della merely scowled at him. "And where exactly are we? Or are you afraid to tell me?"

Kendall, having finished stoking the fire, sat in a chair opposite Della. "We are at my sister's home. She...unfortunately...no longer needs it."

"Why?" Della wanted to keep Kendall talking; the more information she could get out of him, the better.

"She died 6 months ago."

Della felt the slightest tinge of sympathy. "I'm sorry." She stood and walked to the window. Looking out this direction, she could see that the house sat on a lake. There was something familiar about it, but her mind was still not clear enough for her to think too hard. "It's very beautiful here. May I ask what lake that is?"

Kendall laughed. "Mason has trained you well. No wonder you're so valuable to him."

Della turned, wrapping her arms around her middle. "If you're thinking of using me against Mr. Mason, you're wrong. I'm just a secretary."

Again he laughed. "Oh no Miss Street. You are much more. I've been watching you and Mason and that detective Drake for quite some time."

Della returned to the couch. "Well since you are intent upon keeping me prisoner, maybe you'd care to tell me the rest of your story. Why are you so bent on hurting Mr. Mason?"

Kendall leaned forward, staring at her with an expression that nearly caused her to shiver. "Because Mason killed my sister!" His voice held such venom that Della shrank back against the cushions.

"No. I won't believe you. Perry would never..."

Kendall stood so quickly, Della jumped. He walked to the fireplace, taking the poker and jabbing at the logs.

"Yes. Yes, he's the reason that Marion is dead."

As if someone had turned on a brilliant light, Della suddenly knew where she was.

"Marion Shelby. This is the Shelby house at Pinewood Lake. But Marion..." Now the notes made sense...BK was Bob Kendall; MK, Marion Kendall, her maiden name.

Kendall turned back to her. "Quite right. But I think you should know the whole story, don't you?"

Della merely nodded.

Kendall came back and sat in the chair once more.

"Marion was in college when our parents died. She was still a teenager, but suddenly, she had to balance school, a part-time job and keeping her little brother fed and out of trouble. Then she met Scott Shelby. He was handsome, rich and she thought he loved her. But he wasn't ready for me. He insisted I go off to military school, and because she loved him, I was on the next bus to the Army and Navy Academy in San Diego."

He lit a cigarette and leaned back. "It really was the best thing she could have done for me. We wrote to each other every week and one weekend a month, she drove to the school to see me. But then the letters slowed down and the visits stopped. Because of Shelby. He was a very jealous man. And any man, even her brother, was a threat to him."

He sat forward and looked at her. "Shelby wanted a wife in name only. Someone pretty to appear on his arm, to host parties. He had a succession of affairs, the last one being with Ellen Waring. But if Marion so much as smiled at a man he..." Kendall dropped his head to his hands. "He would hit her. Oh, no place that it would show, but then there are also bruises that don't show on the body."

He raised his head and Della saw the tears streaming down his face. She knew she should try to show some pity for him but she just couldn't bring herself to cry for a man who would drug a woman and hold her hostage.

"So what does Mr. Mason have to do with all of this?" By now, Della's brain fog had completely cleared and she recalled the details of the case. "Your sister killed her husband and set up Frank Lawton to take the blame."

Kendall stood and walked to stand by the window. "Ah yes. The illustrious, innocent Frank Lawton. It was his attention to Marion that started everything in motion. Shelby had it all set up. But he didn't count on Marion being awake and gumming up his plans. Everything would have been fine but for your boss."

Della couldn't believe what she was hearing. "But it wasn't just that. It was Arthur Williams' picture of your sister. That was what convicted her."

Kendall turned back to her. "And he paid dearly for it too." At Della's shocked expression, he just laughed. "Seems there was a very tragic fire at the Williams cabin. He and his wife, the former Ellen Waring, weren't able to escape. And of course there was Frank Lawton's recent accident. He tried to drive a car with a severed brake line. Such a shame."

Della couldn't believe what she was hearing. This man had killed three people. She wondered if she was next. And what did he have planned for Perry?

"But it still isn't Mr. Mason's fault your sister died."

Kendall crossed the room, looming over her. "Don't you see? If Mason hadn't meddled with things, Frank Lawton would have been in prison instead of Marion." His voice got louder with every word. "And she wouldn't have been locked up in that awful place, wouldn't have contracted pneumonia, wouldn't have died!"

His shouted words now had Della truly terrified. It was clear that his sister's death had unbalanced his mind. Now she knew she had to get out of here.

Kendall backed away from her. "So now you know the story. But you have nothing to fear Miss Street. It's Mason I want. You are merely bait. But I think it's time I made dinner. Can't have you wasting away before your boss tries to find you, can we."

Della just stared at him. "If you don't mind, I'm not that hungry. I'm still not feeling very well. I'd really just like to go to bed, please."

"Of course." Della stood and headed for the stairs. "And Miss Street?" Della looked back at him. "I should warn you, I'm a very light sleeper. Please don't force me to hurt you."

Despite the fact that she wanted to throw those same words back at him, Della didn't say anything. Instead, she bit her tongue as she climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom. Thankful there was a slide lock on the inside of the door, she shut the door and slammed the bolt home. Lying on the bed, she finally allowed the tears to come.

Downstairs, Kendall paced the room, monitoring the police radio.