Percy stepped out onto the street. "Nothing," he said. "He rented the room, paid upfront, and apparently never came back."

"What do you think it means?" Summers asked.

"Could mean anything. Could be he's having an affair. Maybe he's staying with a woman," Percy said. "Maybe he didn't actually find a new job, and that story was just to keep his wife from worrying."

"What do you think?"

"Me?" Percy said. "I have a feeling it's neither of those. I may be wrong, but I'm usually not." He rocked back on his heels and looked around. "There were at least three men on the job," he went on. "It's no coincidence this happened right after Hockley fired all those workers, our guy included. I just-I'm sure he's involved."

"Certainly a lohical guess," Summers said. "He's got motive. We know he lied about where he is."

"But that's still not enough. We can't prove anything. We don't know where he is."

"You think it's worthwhile to keep a man on the building?" Summers asked.

Percy shook his head. "No. I doubt he comes back here. I'd bet, though, wherever he is, that's where our victims are."

...

"It's nothing," Rose said. "I'm probably just hungry." She put her head against her knees. The pain between her eyes was sharp. She'd woken up with it. That was at least an hour ago, probably longer. Her stomach twisted. So far, there was no sign of that day's meal. Rose tried not to wonder if they'd been abandoned.

"This is completely unacceptable!" Cal said angrily.

She laughed weakly. "Such strong words."

"It is," he said. 'They can't do this. They have no right."

"They can do whatever they want."

But he wasn't listening. Cal pounded the trap door with both fists. "I demand you open this door!" he yelled. Rose covered her ears. "You can't ignore us down here!"

He gave up when his arms were tired "How can they pretend not to hear that?" he said, gasping for breath. "It would drive anyone crazy. What do you think?" He turned toward her. "Rose?" His eyes widened. "Rose!"

She was curled up, her head resting on her knees, hands over her ears. Her eyes were closed. Cal dropped to his knees. "Rose?" he said gently. He touched her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"All your shouting," she said. "And your impressive display of virility against the door."

"I was trying to get their attention."

"I know," she said. "Cal, did it ever occur to you, maybe they've left? They aren't responding because they've gone and left us down here to die?" She hadn't intended to say it. The words came out before she could stop them.

"You can't be serious," Cal said.

"It's possible."

"What happened to not giving up?" he asked.

"I haven't. I'm just saying, that's one explanation. It's not the one I'm hoping for, but it's a possibility."

"No, it isn't," he said firmly. "The two of us dying down here is not a possibility. Rose, do you understand?" He brushed her hair awa from her face. "You have to trust me," he said. "Try to trust me, Rose. We have to help each other."

"That hardly sounds like you."

"I respond appropriately in all situations," he said. "It's one of my strengths. I always find a way."

Rose chuckled. "Arrogance."

"I'll accept that. You smiled."

"I did not," she said.

"It was faint, but I saw it. See, right there," Cal said. "Right at the corner of your mouth." He grinned. "You have the loveliest smile."

"Is this really the time for flattery?"

"It might be the perfect time," he replied. "If that's what I was trying to do."

"Weren't you?" she said.

"I was simply being honest."

Rose studied his face for a moment. "Thank you. That may be one of the nicest things you've ever said to me."

"I frequently say nice things to you."

"Insincere flattery and flirting," she replied. "I believe you really meant the comment about my smile."

"Can I help with your headache?"

"I don't see how," she said.

Cal moved so he was sitting against the wall, legs straight out in front of him. "Come here," he said.

She gave him a dubious look. "Why?"

He held out his arms. "Just come here. I'm not going to hurt you, Rose." Still doubtful, she went over to him. "Lay your head here," he said. "Trust me." He pressed his thumbs to the base of her neck. "How does that feel?"

"Surprisingly good," Rose said.

Cal moved his hands. "Now?" He pressed down a little more. "Or is that better?"

"That one." She let out a breath. "How do you know this? What are you doing?"

"Pressure points. I learned about this in college. I shared rooms with a medical student. He showed me."

"He did a fine job," she said.

"I haven't gotten much use out of my skills. I'm glad I still remember."

"So am I," she said gratefully.

"I'm rather surprised you're letting me do this."

"I'm surprised you offered," she replied.

"You were in pain," Cal pointed out.

"That doesn't affect you," Rose countered.

"I don't want to watch you suffer," he said. "I'm not-I have faults, but I'm not that cold. Do you really think I am?"

"I don't know what I think," Rose said. "Healing isn't something I associate with you. You aren't a creator."

"I'm not an artist, you mean."

"No," she said. "You aren't."

"Would you like me better if I were?"

"Talent doesn't make someone a good person. It doesn't even make them interesting, necessarily," she said.

"But you'd still rather marry an artist," he said.

"I want to marry someone with depth," Rose answered. "Someone I could never get tired of talking with."

"We can talk."

"You don't have to win me over, Cal," she said. "I've already agreed to marry you."

"Rose, can't we..." Cal searched for the right words. "Be friends? Here and now, if nowhere else?"

"Why does it matter to you if we are?"

"Because here and now, we only have each other," he said.

"And it takes something like this to bring down all the walls," she said thoughtfully. "You wouldn't turn on me if it meant suvival? Or escape?"

"No. No, of course I wouldn't." He looked appalled, but deep down, he wondered if that wasn't exactly what he would do, under the right circumstances.

"I want to trust you," Rose said. "Sometimes I do. Right now, for instance."

Ca; touched her cheek with his fingertips. Before he could stop himself, he bent down and kissed her. His lips pressed gently against hers; his palm flattened on her cheek. Rose put her hand over his. He waited for her to stop him, but she didn't. Her mouth opened slightly, and his followed. Neither of them knew what would've happened next if the trapdoor hadn't flung open. They jerked apart, startled, and stared at one another. "Rose," Cal began. She shushed him.

Dan appeared on the stairs, bowls in hand.

"Finally," Cal snapped.

Rose sat up, shaking her hair. He reached for her but stopped. Cal put his hands down awkwardly. She pretended not to notice. Dan said nothing as he handed her the bowls.

"No bread?" Cal said.

Dan was already halfway up the stairs. He didn't answer. "He could at least say something," Cal grumbled. The door closed with a bang.

"Just be grateful we have this," Rose said.

"How could I possibly be grateful for this? It's more water than oatmeal. I don't know why they bother."

"They want us alive," she said.

"Well, I can't eat it, and I won't." He pushed his bowl away with a disgusted shake of his head.

"Cal, you have to eat it."

"You can have mine," Cal said.

Her tone was reproachful. "Cal."

"Just take it,' he said. "That pitiful excuse for food isn't enough to fill me up anyway."

"But it's enough for me?" she said.

"I'd rather you have it than no-one," he replied.

"How kind."

They didn't look at each other. Nothing they'd said was what they wanted to say. Rose touched her lip. She felt Cal's mouth pressed against hers. Their previous kisses has been brief, dry pecks really; it was all she would allow, and all he tried for. She knew he wanted more; that was obvious. However, he wasn't willing to just take it; he wanted her to want him. And to her amazement, Rose did want him, or his kiss at least. It was nice.

Cal licked his upper lip and imagined he tasted Rose. Finally, what he'd been waiting for, and it only took a life threatening situation to get them there. It was almost funny. He snuck a glance at her. How could she go on as if nothing happened? Did her silence mean it didn't matter to her? Or was she as hesitant to mention it as he was?

...

"I've never enjoyed horseback riding," Cal said. "What's the point?"

"Some people enjoy being outdoors. The feel of being on the horse, galloping. There's something liberating about it," Rose replied. "And horses are such lovely, gentle animals."

"You would think so."

"What does that mean?" she asked, perturbed.

"Simply that it sounds like you. It isn't bad."

"Tell me something you do like," she said. "Something new."

"Swimming," he replied without hesitation.

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed."

"Is it so unusual?" he said.

Rose shook her head. "No. I knew you had athletic tendencies, but I can't picture you in water."

"It's been quite a while," he said. "When I was younger, my family's winter home had a pool indoors. I swam year round." His voice was wistful.

"If you enjoy it so much, you should do it."

"I don't have much free time," he said. "Or a place to do it."

Rose gave him a look. "Cal, with all your money, you could have two pools installed, indoors and out."

Cal laughed. "I suppose I could." His eyes grew thoughtful. "Would you like that?"

"I wouldn't dislike it," she said slowly. "I know how to swim, but Mother never liked for me to go in the water."

"Too unseemly?"

"And dangerous," she added. "She was always sure I'd drown."

"It's a possibility."

"I could die doing just about anything," Rose pointed out. "That's no reason to avoid life."

"She's very protective of you," Cal said. "I understand why."

"You dont, not really. It's more than..." She shook her head. "Forget it."

"What?"

"It doesn't matter," she said.

"You don;t have to tell me," he said. "But you can. Rose, I want you to trust me. I can't understand why you don't, and I don't know how to make it happen. The man you want, I don't know how to be him."

"You've done worse. I like the way you are now," Rose said. "You aren't perfect, but you're more like a real person. I don't feel as if you're planning what you're going to say next while I'm talking, rather than listening."

"How did you know I do that?"

Rose stared at him, trying to decide if he was joking. The corners of Cal's mouth turned up, and she laughed. "You know you've done it," she said.

"I doubt I;m the only one," Cal said.

"That doesn't excuse it." She closed her eeys and put her hand to her head. She exhaled heavily. "It's so absurd."

"Is your headache back?"

Rose nodded. "Mmhmm."Cal crawled over to her, squeezing between her and the wall. She sat between his legs. "Cal, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Lean," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"You're incredibly presumptuous," she said.

He pressed his fingertips into her shoulders and the base of her neck. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked. She felt relief almost immediately.

"No," she said. "But you should ask first."

"I'm sorry."

"Are you?" she said.

"I don't want to hurt you, Rose."

He certainly seemed to believe it. She didn't respond; what was there to say? And between the movements of his hands, and the overwhelming closeness of him, Rose couldn't think. She smelled him, not the perfume of the soaps and lotions he splashed on himself every day, but the real scent of him. She'd smelled it before, when they lay down to sleep, but this was different. That was about survival; this was comfort, at best. This wasn't keeping warm and staving off fear. This was unexpected. Rose wasn't sure she wanted or trusted it.

She felt his breath on her neck and realized her was breathing her in too. She waited for him to kiss her and was surprisingly disappointed when he didn't. She would have been amused to discover Cal was wrestling with himself about that very thing.

...

"Sir?"

"What is it, Summers?" Percy said. They'd been canvassing the streets on the off chance they might see something relevant to the case. Percy was certain they were close; a break in the case was definitely near, if he only waited long enough. It just made too much sense; not to mention the convenience of it all.

"Don't you think we should be heading back?"

"Not yet," Percy said.

"The men are getting restless," Summers said. "There was a call to the local sherriff a few minutes ago. Hockley's demanding results."

"Tell him that's what we're up here looking for," Percy replied. "And we'll get our jobs done much faster without him demanding a report every half hour."

"You really want me to tell him that?"

"I guess not," Percy said. "But wouldn't it be nice? No, tell him he'll know something as soon as we do. I've got a feeling it won't be long," he added.

"I know what you mean, sir," Summers said.

"You're a good man, Summers," Percy said. "Why don't you take a dinner break and then check the boardinghouse again? Just in case."

"Right, sir."

...

Rose let her head rest on Cal's shoulder. At any other time she would've been mortified to find herself in such a position. It was worse than being on his lap; she was caught between his legs, a fact she tried not to think about. The pain in her head had receded, thanks in large part to his efforts, a fact it was hard not to appreciate.

"I can't imagine you as a healer," she said.

"Maybe that's because I'm not," Cal replied.

"What would you call this?"

"Healing sounds a bit too grand for a simple neck massage," he said.

"Are my ears deceiving me? Cal, was that modesty? Did you just refuse to take credit for something?" Rose said. "Unbelievable."

"I'd rather take credit for something more impressive."

"Such as?" she said.

"You want an example?"

Rose shrugged. She lifted her head so their eyes met. "Unless you don't have one," she challenged.

Cal thought he detected a flirtatious note in her voice. He glanced at her her lips, remembering the taste of them. He moved slowly, waiting for her to stop him.

Their lips brushed, softly at first, but he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, and slowly, it became a real kiss.

Rose wasn't sure what was happening. His tongue flicked over hers, and she responded instinctively. Her heart pounded. Was this happening? Was she enjoying this?

The trap door opened, and they jumped, the moment shattered. Sid appeared, followed by Dan. Sid looked them over, amusement on his face. His eyes, however, were hard. "What do you want?" Cal said, disgustedly.

"Is tht any way to speak to your hosts?" Sid replied. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "How rude of you. And here I thought the upper classes were so well-mannered."

Cal glared at him. "How would you know?"

"Cal," Rose said. "Don't."

He held her closer. "It's alright, Rose."

"Touching," Sid mocked. "We came for her."

"Keep away from her," Cal warned.

"Cal," Rose said again.

Annoyance spiked his voice. "I can handle this," Cal said.

Sid shook his head. "No, you can't. It's time to make another call, and we need her to do it. Now." Neither of them moved. Sid sighed and reached into his jacket. The gun gleamed, despite the dim light. "Now," he snapped.

Rose tried to stand up, but Cal held her down. "Don't," he ordered.

"I have to," Rose said.

"He won't shoot you."

"He doesn't need me," Rose argued. She looked into Cal's eyes. "I barely trust you. How can I trust him?"

Dan grabbed Rose by the arm. She stiffened, the instinct to fight taking over. But then she stopped. There would be a time to fight, but this wasn't it. He placed a cloth over her eyes and tied it roughly. She felt herself being pushed up the stairs. His hands dug into her arms.

Sid watched Cal, gun still in hand. "I'll bring her back," he said. "Eventually."

Cal looked from him to the open door. Sid was at the bottom of the stairs, only a few feet away. He had a gun, but Cal didn't quite believe that mattered. It was that blind confidence which allowed him to act. It all happened so fast; he didn't have a chance to think. He took a breath, and then he was lunging at Sid.

Sid held the gun like a natural, but his first instinct wasn't to shoot. He raised his arm to push Cal back, but there was no stopping him. The gun clattered to the floor, and they both landed on the stairs. Sid reached for the gun. A punch from Cal stopped him. He blinked, stunned. Before he could react, the butt of the gun collided with his jaw, and he was out cold.

Cal scrambled to his feet. He took the stairs two at a time, emerging into a dusty, nearly empty room. It wasn't the sort of place anyone would live voluntarily. There was a door to his left. He ran over to it, laughing as he threw it open. Sunshine spilled over him.

Cal was halfway across the porch when he remembered. Rose. He turned on his heel and ran back inside.