Legacy of Hate: Logan Plamer Thriller #2 (Logan Palmer Thrillers) by L J Morris

Author:L J Morris [Morris, L J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crow's Foot Books
Published: 2024-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 34

Cody Wickes had been locked up and guarded ever since his meeting with Palmer at the hotel. First in the industrial unit and now in what looked like an unused section of a big house. The room they were keeping him in wasn’t a dungeon by any means, but it was basic. What furniture there was had been covered over with dust sheets as if the owners had gone away for a long holiday. There was a toilet and shower cubicle through a second door, and he had an old army fold up camp bed to sleep on.

He had thought of escaping, but the room’s windows all had locked shutters on them. Except for the bathroom. The window in there didn’t have shutters, it had a steel bar on the outside that ran top to bottom down the middle. It blocked the window from being opened fully and, even if he had smashed the glass, made the gap too small to squeeze through anyway. That left the room’s door, which was solid wood and always kept locked with two guards outside. The only chance he had was to try to catch them by surprise, but that was unlikely. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this alive but the least he could do was buy Palmer as much time as possible to get the girl to safety.

Once he had given Palmer the keys to his parents’ cabin instead of his, he knew it wouldn’t take too long for Carver and his men to find out. To be honest, he was surprised they hadn’t killed him already. He was as much of a witness in this as they were. They must have been planning to use him as bait to get Palmer to come in. He couldn’t let that happen. As soon as the guards left him alone, he began to formulate a plan.

The old army camp bed that Wickes had been provided with was a long piece of canvas that was held taught by a number of flexible steel poles. With a bit of twisting and pulling, he managed to remove one of the poles and had spent the last day sharpening it against the concrete floor of the toilet. It wasn’t as sharp as he would have liked, but it would do. He fashioned a handle at one end using his belt and one of his socks then hid it under the blanket they had left him. All he needed now was the opportunity to use it.

Wickes knelt in front of the door and put his eye to the keyhole. The solid door was an old-fashioned style, and the mortice lock wouldn’t have looked out of place on the front door of a castle. He had spent hours monitoring the guards through it, waiting for his chance.

They were taking it in turns to guard the door two hours at a time. One was sitting on a wooden chair directly in front of the door while the other lay on a leather couch against the opposite wall.

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