My Father's House

Chapter 21

The sound of water trickling echoed somewhere down the dark hall. This was probably the source of the terrible musty smell burning my lungs. The first few cells were visible in the dim light. I realized I was in a dungeon. The cells on either side of the walkway were small with nothing inside them but a low bench at the back. Concrete floors met metal bars on three sides with a concrete wall at the back.I shuddered. This was one aspect of the business I had not wanted to come face to face with.

My inspection was interrupted by something that almost sounded like a choked sob. The sound came from further down the hall, where the light was too dim for me to see. An unbidden flashback surfaced. A similar scene of a young girl locked in the Kinley's cold dark cellar for hours rose in my mind, but I suppressed it as quickly as it came.

"Hello?" I called into the darkness. Silence. Whoever was in here was likely behind bars which gave me at least some advantage if they were unfriendly. I took a couple of hesitant steps forward. Not wishing to venture too far inside, I strained to see if there was someone further down the hall. I thought I saw movement in the very last stall to the left. My imagination provided the image of a victim lying huddled on the floor, left to die cold, hungry, and alone. I tried again. "Is someone there?"

The light from the overhead lamp didn't reach far. If there was someone, and they needed help, I would never forgive myself for walking away. I came to the last cell. A dark figure lingered in the shadows at the back. I hesitated, unsure what to do next.

"Do you need help?" I offered. The figure slowly came forward and a woman lifted her head as she approached. I should have known it would be Madeline. She looked as wretched as she had last night. Her bruised face contorted into an angry grimace.

"Yes, you can help me!" She spat, her French accent thick. "You can get me out of this place!" Staring for only a moment, I turned back the way I came. She called after me, "Wait! I know you can't get out. The door only opens from the outside. I used to work in here, you know?"

I stopped but kept my back to her. She went on, "Where is Kael? He protects you like you're a helpless child. How did you get out of his sight?" I turned back to her. She seemed pleased that her mocking caught my attention.

"What do you want, Madeline? Unless you have a hidden key in there, I don't think you'll be much help to either of us." I was amazed at the modicum of confidence the metal bars provided.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I can help you. I have information that Kael would not tell you. Things that he doesn't know," she whispered through the bars.

I frowned. "Why would you tell me? I can't open that door."

"Even if you can't help me now, I need an ally. I have no one. Just like you. You should really think, dear. Where is this headed? Look at me! I used to be the woman he loved and now look where I am!" She gestured to our primitive surroundings. She clamped a hand onto the metal bar, and her actions echoed through the empty prison. "Trust me, sweetheart, when he doesn't need you any more, he throws you out like garbage. I'm telling you this now, but I had to learn the hard way."

Although I knew she was twisting the facts, her words haunted me. "So, his actions had nothing to do with your betrayal?" I didn't know the details, but by the way they acted together, she had done something wrong in her time here.

Madeline looked hurt. "I was trying to help him. But he wouldn't have it. That fool would follow Gideon Harper right off a cliff if he asked him to." She punctuated her sentence with an echoing smack to the cell bars. She paused, studying me, probably trying to guess what I already knew. "You know he raised him then? The old man raised Kael?"