"I don't suppose you have any ideas," Steve said, his voice low.

Kneeling around the chest, their heads close together in quiet conversation, he and Bo and Roman were tying the extension cord around the chest, securing it carefully so that it would not slip and fall or otherwise damage the priceless artifacts that were inside as it was hoisted up to the main floor. They had not yet unplugged the light from the cord, which would have plunged them into total darkness. It lay on the ground beside the box, shining upward in an eerie fashion.

Roman shook his head. "I'm afraid there isn't much we can do from down here," he replied, also maintaining a low voice to avoid being heard by Vaughn, who still stood at the top of the ladder, watching. "And to make matters worse, it looks like he's planning to lock us in here when he leaves."

"We can't let him do that!" Steve whispered, insistently. "We can't let him leave here with Kayla!"

"I know that!" Roman retorted in a harsh whispered. "If you have any ideas, I'd sure like to hear them!"

Frustrated by his inability to help his wife, Steve shook his head to indicate that he had no suggestions either. "I swear, if he hurts her . . ."

"Look, I know you're concerned about her," Roman said, soothingly. "We're going to figure something out."

"We still have the pry bar down here," Bo reminded them. "If he locks us in here, we should be able to pry that hatch open."

"As long as he doesn't notice it," Roman said, observing the pry bar out of the corner of his eyes, assuring himself that it was still there without calling attention to it. It was still lying near the secret cubby where they had found the chest.

How did he get in here without being noticed by the cop out front?" Bo wondered.

"He may have parked one block over and cut through the back yards," Steve said. "There are a lot of trees and shrubs and outbuildings in these yards. He could probably cut through them without being noticed."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Bo agreed.

"Roman, there's one other thing I'm concerned about," Steve said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Stephanie's here."

Roman looked startled. "You didn't mention -"

"We left her upstairs to explore the bedrooms. There was no need to mention her before because there was no danger, until he showed up." A panicked expression fleeted across his face at the thought of his daughter possibly being harmed before he brought his emotions under control again. "If she comes down and sees him holding a gun to her mother's head . . ."

"She might scream or act rashly," Bo concluded.

"I can't picture her screaming, but she might speak before she realizes the danger. I just don't -"

At the top of the ladder, Vaughn cocked his head slightly, trying to listen to their whispered conversation, and knew that they were conspiring. "If you have anything to say, I'd appreciate it if you would say it loud enough for me to hear," he said with mock politeness. "It is so rude to whisper."

All three men lifted their faces to look up at him with unfriendly expressions, which the Englishman ignored. Instead, his eyes were on the chest, now bundled securely with extension cord.

"Now, I see you have the chest secured. I would greatly appreciate it if you would attach the keys of that red truck out there to the cord, since I will be using it to drive away with the treasure. My car is inconveniently parked several blocks away."

"You won't be able to get past the cop that's parked out front," Bo warned.

Vaughn chuckled. "Do you really believe I would dare come in here without first neutralizing the cop? Trust me, he is no longer a threat."

Kayla drew her breath in sharply. "You killed him?"

Instead of answering, he addressed Roman. "Once you have the keys attached, if you would be so kind as to unplug the light from the cord, we can begin to pull it up. My dear," he said to Kayla. "You will have to do the honors, since I obviously cannot pull it up one-handed, and I cannot trust you enough to put the gun down."

"It's pretty heavy with that marble bust in there," Roman called up. "I'm not sure she can do it by herself."

"She's going to have to, isn't she?" Vaughn replied, calmly. "Otherwise, it will be necessary for me to kill all four of you so that I can safely pull it up myself. There is a silencer on this gun, in case you're wondering. It is not my preferred method of resolving the situation, but we do what we must. Just so you don't get any ideas," he warned.

Roman removed Abe's keys from his pocket and attached it to the extension cord, then the light went out as Bo reluctantly unplugged the shop lamp. At the sudden plunge into darkness below him, Vaughn's attention was drawn toward the black void, eagerly anticipating the recovery of the chest.

"All right," Roman called, "It's ready to go."

With his right hand, Vaughn tightened his grip on the gun. "All right, Mrs. Johnson. I want you to bend over and take hold of that extension cord. Remember, the lives of your husband and brothers, not to mention your own, depend on your ability to bring it out of that cellar, so I suggest you avoid any pretense of not being strong enough."

Kayla's heart pounded nervously, gravely concerned that she might not have the physical ability to pull the heavy chest out of the larder, but, as directed, she bent over and wrapped both hands around the thick yellow cord that snaked over the edge of the hatch and disappeared into the darkness below.

When she had bent over, Vaughn removed his arm from around her waist, and grasped a handful of fabric on the back of her blouse.

Casting a side-long glance at him, she saw that he was leaning forward on the edge of the hatch, anticipating the arrival of the chest. In doing so, he had shifted the direction of the pistol so that it was aimed PAST her instead of directly at her. This distraction was the opportunity she needed to attack, but she knew it came with risk. The gun might inadvertently fire, and a wild bullet could harm either her or one of her relatives. The very least that might happen would be that he would take her blouse with him as he fell, but that was a non-issue. The blouse could be replaced; her family could not.

"Pull it up," Vaughn commanded.

Releasing the cord, she slammed her fist in the hollow behind his knee, causing the knee to buckle. An instant later, she placed both hands on his hip and shoved as hard as she could, sending him careening toward the yawning black hole. With a shout of surprise, he flailed wildly, trying to find something to grab in order to steady himself. There was a thud as his forehead connected with the edge of the one of the pantry shelves. As she had hoped, he released both his hold on her and on the pistol as he staggered and groped wildly for something to hold onto to avoid a fall.

Also thrown off balance herself, Kayla threw herself to one side to prevent being knocked into the hatch, and she grasped one of the pantry shelves to steady herself. Vaughn, apparently addled by the knock on the head, teetered on the edge of the hatch. Another shove from Kayla completed the total loss of control, and he toppled into the darkness below.

The three men below watched in astonishment as the man, silhouetted against the light from above, plummeted toward them, and they quickly stepped out of the way of his fall. An instant later, he landed heavily on the floor in front of them with a grunt that indicated pain, a "whoosh" that suggested the wind had been knocked out of him, and a cracking sound which suggested something had broken.

Bo immediately fumbled with the cord and re-plugged the lamp into the extension, and in the light that once again flooded the larder, Steve's eye spotted the pistol lying several feet away. He scooped it up and aimed it directly at Vaughn's head.

"Give me an excuse," he demanded.

Still trying to catch his breath from the hard fall, Vaughn raised his head and looked up into the bore of his own gun, but he offered no objection to what his mind accepted as a hopeless situation. His mission was over, and there was no point in continuing the struggle. And certainly, there was no reason to give the angry man who had suffered years of abuse at his hands a reason to blow his head off.

"I surrender," he grunted. "Just aim that thing another direction, if you please."

"I don't 'please'," Steve said, mockingly. "You had this thing aimed at my wife's head! Now, until Roman gets you secured, it's going to stay aimed at your head, and I promise you, if you so much as twitch your little pinkie without being told, my finger just might squeeze the trigger hard enough to make this thing go off."

"All right," Roman said, taking charge. "Hands behind your back."

Vaughn struggled into a seated position and moved his right arm behind his back, but the other arm was limp, and he cried out in pain when he moved it.

"I think I broke my bloody arm!" he declared.

"Tell someone who cares," Roman said, planting his knee in Vaughn's back. He snapped the handcuff around Vaughn's right wrist and hooked the other cuff on the back of the prisoner's belt. Reaching out to Steve, he said, "I'll take that."

Steve did not break eye contact with Vaughn. "What, don't trust me?"

"I trust you, Steve," he said. "But I'm the senior officer."

After another long moment, Steve finally looked at Roman, then lowered the gun, relinquishing it to his brother-in-law.

Roman first engaged the safety before tucking the gun into the back of his jeans, then he looked up toward the hatch, where Kayla was watching from above. "You all right, Kayla?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied.

"Way to go, sis!" Bo said, approvingly. "You told me years ago that you can take care of yourself. I believe you now! That was quite a maneuver! Maybe we should put you on the force!"

"Thanks, but I'm quite happy to be a doctor," she replied with a smile. "Is everyone down there okay? What about Vaughn? Does he need medical attention?"

"He thinks he broke his arm," Roman replied. "And from the cracking sound we heard when he landed, I think that's probably the case. We'll bring him up there so you can have a look at it."

"I can't manage the ladder," Vaughn said.

"You'll manage it," Steve told him. "If not, I'll put you over my shoulder like a sack of grain and haul you up myself. And believe me, it won't be a gentle ride."

"Feeling a tad bitter, are we?" Vaughn said boldly through clenched teeth, understanding enough about American justice from the years he had lived in Salem to know that Roman Brady would not allow the one-eyed man to respond in a violent manner.

Steve's expression was harsh, the hate he felt for him vivid in his remaining eye, but to his credit, he held his temper, even though everyone in the room knew he would have taken great pleasure in beating the prisoner to a pulp. Instead, he knelt down before him, bringing his face closer to Vaughn's so there could be no mistaking the intensity of his current mood.

"What do you think?" he asked, resentfully. "For fifteen years, you and your people kept me away from my family, the cruelest thing you could have done to me. And for what reason? For this box?" He placed his hand on it. "I told your lackeys repeatedly that I didn't know what you were looking for or where it was, and that was the absolute truth. I had no idea, until just a few minutes ago, that anything unusual was in this house, and I certainly didn't know what it was. On your orders, malicious and inhumane punishments were inflicted when I failed to provide you with the answers you sought. Do you know what that's like? To be beaten and electrocuted when I had no idea what it was you wanted? I was completely at your mercy, just as you are at my mercy now. Yes, I am bitter, but I won't lower myself to your standard. I'm not going to beat the crap out of you or torture you. I will handle you with personal restraint. Just don't expect me to be too gentle about it."

Having had his say, he stood up and backed away several steps.

Roman placed a brotherly hand on Steve's shoulder, gripped it in a friendly way, then bent over and grasped Vaughn by the back of his shirt. Without a hint of gentleness, he hauled him upright. "Don't expect undo kindness from me either," he said.

Vaughn clenched his teeth tighter to keep from screaming in pain as he was pulled roughly to his feet, and he managed to stifle the outcry, converting it to a groan. His broken arm dangled uselessly at his side, and his face went deathly pale.

"Don't you dare get sick in this house!" Steve warned. "Your people have already defiled it enough! It's going to take months to restore it to a point where it will be suitable for human occupation again."

Listening from above, Kayla cautioned, "Sudden, intense pain sometimes causes nausea. Tell him to take some slow deep breaths. Not that I feel any sympathy for him, but like Steve said, we don't want him to soil the house any more than his presence here already has."

"You heard her," Roman commanded. "You can lean against the wall there and take your deep breaths."

Vaughn did as directed without protest, closing his eyes against the pain and nausea.

"What about that?" Bo asked curiously. "You seriously thinking about buying the place back?"

"We're talking about it," Steve replied in a conversational voice.

"That's great. If you need some help fixing things up, I'm sure I can spare some time to nail down some boards and swing a paint brush!"

"That'd be great. First, though, we'll need to get someone out here from the historical society to help determine the best way to restore it and retain the historical integrity. It was built before the Civil War, you know."

"Sounds like a good idea. This is a great house."

"Isn't it?" Pointing his finger up at the ceiling, he added, "Look at those beams. They don't make them this solid anymore."

"That is a fact," Bo agreed.

Vaughn's temper, heightened by the pain from his broken arm and his nausea, rejected the idle conversation that was getting on his nerves, and he snapped impatiently, "If we're finished chatting here, would you be so kind as to run me by the hospital to have my arm looked at?"

"You in a hurry to get to jail?" Roman taunted.

Vaughn glared, resentfully. "I can accuse you of police brutality if you do not grant me proper medical care."

"You'll get your medical care," Roman told him. "Before you go to jail. Bo, you go first to make sure he doesn't get any ideas about running away when he gets to the top."

Bo nodded. "Sure."

Listening from above, Kayla knew it would be a few minutes before they managed to get the injured criminal up the ladder. "Looks like it's going to be a slow ascent," she called. "I'm going to check on Stephanie."

"I'll go with you," Steve replied. Turning back to Roman, he asked, "Do you want us to phone for an ambulance?"

Roman glanced at Vaughn. It would be a simple matter to take him to the hospital in his car, but getting paramedics to look at him would work in his favor regarding legalities. "Yeah, probably better. I don't want any claims that we violated his civil rights by not providing prompt medical care."

"Kay said she'd take a look at him," Bo reminded him.

"Yeah, but she's our sister, and might be regarded as biased."

Moving to the ladder ahead of Bo, Steve climbed it quickly, but when he reached the top, he first took Kayla into his arms for a brief and heartfelt embrace.

"Are you all right, Sweetness? Did he hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine. Just a little shaken."

"That makes two of us. I'm so proud of you," he said, planting a kiss on her temple. "That was a very brave thing for you to do."

"I still can't believe I did it," she said with a shaky laugh as they stepped through the kitchen door and started walking toward the foyer. "I didn't really even have time to think about it. When he gave me that little opening, I just reacted."

"Instinct. You did good, Sweetness." When they emerged into the foyer, he looked up the ornate staircase and asked, "Think she's still upstairs exploring, totally unaware of everything that happened down here?"

"I hope so." Placing her hand on the banister post, she called up the stairs, "Stephanie?"

"Mom?" came the muffled response that seemed to be coming from their level.

Kayla exchanged a puzzled glance with Steve, then looked around the room. "Stephanie, where are you?"

Moving cautiously, as if uncertain that it was safe, Stephanie crept from her hiding place, and when she saw her parents both safe and sound, she rushed into their arms, her mother first, and then her father, hugging them happily.

"I was so scared!" she confessed. "I saw that man with the gun, but the only thing I knew to do was to call Aunt Hope. I wanted to do something to help you, but she told me it would be better if I found a safe place to hide until she got here, so I did." She looked around the room, searching for Hope. "Did she come in the back door?"

Steve and Kayla looked at each other again, concerned frowns etched on their faces.

"No, we haven't seen her," Steve told her.

"It wasn't Hope who rescued you?"

"No. Your mama got the drop on Vaughn and tossed him through the larder opening."

Stephanie was impressed. "Wow, really? You actually did that?"

"Yes, and I wish there had been another way. The fall could have killed him or injured him a lot worse than he was," Kayla replied, realistically. "What is this about Hope? Are you saying she should be here by now?"

"She was in the car driving over when she was talking to me on the phone, and she said she was on her way, but that was about five minutes ago, I guess." She glanced at her wristwatch automatically, then shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't notice the time."

"What about the officer outside?" Kayla asked. "Did you or Hope notify him of what was going on?"

"I don't know. She told me to look out the window to see if he was in the car, but I couldn't see him," Stephanie said, her eyes darting nervously to the front door. "Do you think something happened to him?"

Kayla and Steve hesitated, both of them thinking the same thing. "Vaughn said he neutralized him," Kayla said.

"Hope probably notified dispatch to make contact with him," Steve said. "If he had responded to the call, they would have told him about Vaughn and he would have been in here to see . . ." He glanced at Stephanie, who listened with wide eyes, but he did not complete the thought.

"I'd better go check on him," Kayla said.

"Not without me," Steve told her. Turning to Stephanie, he said, "You wait here. We don't know what we'll find out there."

Tears sprang to her eyes at the implication that something tragic might have happened to the police officer. "You think he's dead, don't you?"

His expression was gentle, and he reached out to place a comforting hand on her cheek. "I don't know, baby. I hope not. Just wait here while I go with your mama."

Kayla opened the door and stepped outside, and after a moment, Steve gave his daughter an encouraging smile, then withdrew his hand from her cheek and followed his wife.

Stephanie waited at the front door and watched as her parents walked briskly down the sidewalk toward the police car, still parked in the driveway. As before, the officer who should have been seated behind the wheel was nowhere to be seen. Her father, she noticed, was paying particular attention to their surroundings, clearly concerned that Vaughn might have an accomplice lying in ambush, while her mother was focused only on the police cruiser and the missing officer.

When Kayla reached the driveway, she approached the car cautiously, her eyes darting nervously toward the shrubs that grew nearby and peered around the side of the cruiser. Nothing dangerous presented itself, so she gave her entire attention to the car's interior, and when she drew near enough, she was able to see him slumped over on the seat.

"Steve, he's here."

Reaching for the handle, she yanked the driver's side door open while Steve opened the passenger door and leaned inside, but he deferred to her medical experience, watching as she pressed her fingertips to the pulse on the officer's neck.

"He's alive," she announced. Her eyes made a cursory visual examination, and her hands felt for evidence of injuries or wetness that would indicate fresh blood flow. "I don't see any blood. Vaughn must have sneaked up on him somehow and clubbed him," she said, paying special attention to his head and scalp, expecting to find a serious contusion.

But Steve's sharp eye had found something else, and he pointed to the tranquilizer dart that was lying on the floor of the passenger side. "Not a head injury. The bastard darted him. It feels like a bee sting, and he probably felt it and pulled it out before he lost consciousness. He must have either tossed it to the floor or dropped it."

Kayla looked up, their eyes meeting. She knew he had been darted enough times to know exactly what it felt like.

"Steve, Kayla?" a feminine voice spoke directly behind Kayla, followed by the slam of a car door, and they both withdrew from the car to see Hope jogging toward them, her weapon drawn. Tires screeched behind her, and Shane leaped out of his rental car and jogged to catch up.

"Here comes the cavalry," Steve said. "You're late to the party!" he called to his two friends.

Satisfied that they were unharmed, Hope lowered the gun and asked, "What happened? Is everyone all right?"

"We are, but I'm afraid he's unconscious," Kayla replied, gesturing toward the policeman.

"Stephanie called me on her cell phone telling me that Vaughn had taken you all hostage. I told her to hide, that I'd be here in a few minutes." She glanced at the Englishman, who had come to a halt beside her. "I called Shane, but it looks like we're a bit tardy."

"Thank you so much for telling Stephanie to hide. I know she wanted to help, but the thought of her becoming involved in this . . ."

"I know," Hope assured her. "She said Vaughn had captured all of you. How did you get loose?"

"Kayla got the drop on him and pushed him into the larder," Steve explained.

"Good girl!" Hope said, approvingly. "Bo?"

"He's fine. He and Roman are bringing Vaughn up right now. Looks like he has a broken arm."

"Can't say I feel too sorry for him." Shane turned concerned eyes to the unconscious officer. "How bad is he?"

"Vaughn shot him with a tranquilizer gun. He probably never saw it coming until it hit him," Kayla said. "His vital signs are stable, but I think we should get an ambulance out here to take him to the hospital to be checked out, just to be safe."

"What about that dart? Is it still there?"

"It's on the floorboard," Steve told him. "We didn't touch it, but I'm sure the cop did when he pulled it out."

"That's okay. If we're lucky, we should still be able to get some fingerprints from Vaughn on it."

"I'll make the call," Hope offered. She put away her pistol and withdrew her cell phone. "What about Vaughn? You said he's injured as well. Should I request two ambulances?"

"Roman thinks it will be a good idea," Kayla said. "When they bring him up, I'll have a look at him, but Roman thinks it will be better to have a pair of unbiased paramedics take a look." She glanced inside the car at the unconscious officer. "I don't think I should leave him unattended in case his vitals go south. I wish I had my bag with me."

"I'll have them bring Vaughn out here, so you can take a look at him," Steve offered. "And I need to let Stephanie know it's okay."

While Hope stepped away from the cruiser to place the call for two ambulances and Kayla leaned back into the car to check on the officer, Steve returned to the house with Shane, where Stephanie was still watching from the open door.

"It's okay," he told her as he entered. "Looks like Vaughn hit him with a tranquilizer dart. We're going to take him to the hospital to be checked out, but it looks like he'll be fine."

Relief spread across the teenager's face. "I'm so glad. I was afraid he might be . . ." She did not complete her statement.

"I know, Little Sweetness." He took her into his arms for a quick embrace. "It's over, baby. It's all over now. We've captured Vaughn and Roman has the treasure in police possession, so there's no reason for anyone to come after any of us again."

Bo wandered into the foyer and saw the father and daughter. "Hey, I though Kayla wanted to have a look at Vaughn's arm."

Steve released his daughter. "She does, but Vaughn put a tranquilizer dart in the cop out there and she doesn't want to leave him unattended before the ambulance arrives, so I suggested we bring him out there to be looked at."

Bo nodded his agreement. "Sounds like a good idea. I'll tell Roman." To Shane, he added, "Want to give us a hand with the box? You won't believe what's in it! No wonder Alamain wanted it so badly! It's probably priceless!"

Eager to see the source of the elaborate ruse, Shane went with Bo into the kitchen, leaving Steve in the foyer with Stephanie.

Steve placed his arm around his daughter. "Come on, Steph. Let's go join your mom."

Together, father and daughter left the house, closing the door behind them, and as they started down the sidewalk, Stephanie said, "Dad, I love my room, and I can't wait to move in."

He squeezed her a little tighter. "Neither can I, little Sweetness."

She glanced back over her shoulder through the open doorway, even though she could no longer see Bo and Shane. "What happens now?"

"Well, Vaughn will be interrogated, and hopefully we'll get some more answers about how and why all this happened."

"So it isn't quite over yet."

"Not quite. But we're getting there."