The hinged flap opened the tiniest bit.
Kumar kept his voice quiet. “Someone’s watching. Don’t get out.”
Criminy.
Kumar had left the hinged door open a little. Blessed fresh air.
Gemma imagined him on his perch, nibbling on a meat pie he’d brought with him. He’d look to any curious eyes to be a driver biding his time with nothing at all in the world to be doing or fretting over.
Time crawled. The bit in the chapel would be done soon. The coffins’d be carried out and lowered into the ground. Kumar’d have to drive off. If any suspicion remained among the Kincaids, they’d follow him, watching for someone to climb out of the hearse who oughtn’t’ve been there. This was their best chance for escaping, and they were running out of opportunity.
The hearse began to move. Kumar hadn’t said anything or explained. She’d had a chance to come to know him a little during the CALL events, and she’d met his wife and oldest child. And Baz had assured her he was dependable. Whatever reason he had for moving the hearse, it must’ve been a prime one. They didn’t move far or roll forward for very long.
Kumar leaned back into the hearse, barely visible in the small gap of the hinged door. In a low voice, he said, “The procession will be leaving the chapel in a moment. The couple of blokes who are watching me will be keeping an eye on that. If you are very careful, you can slip out of here and into the toolshed right next to where we are now. You’ll have to hide yourself in there for a time. The churchyard is entirely walled. You’ll not get out without being seen if the place ain’t empty.”
They’d not planned on this bit of bad loaf.
Kumar plopped a hat on his head and alighted from his driver’s perch. At a little bit of a distance, she could hear him say, “There you are, old girl. That’ll get the sun out of your eyes.” He waslikely speaking to the horse. It would give an explanation to whoever was watching.
A moment later, muffled voices could be heard at a distance, then the shifting of gravel. The funeral procession had begun.
Slowly, carefully, she and Baz slipped out of the false bottom and into the interior of the hearse. Those who’d removed the coffins were smart and had left the flowers against the glass to either side. The view from the outside’d be obscured. They crawled slowly through the hearse, taking care not to jostle the flowers. At some point, Kumar had unlatched the door at the back.
Baz opened it a little at a time, likely hoping to avoid any squeaking from the hinges. Soon enough, it was open enough for them to slip out. The hearse sat very near the wall surrounding the churchyard, angled so the back end wasn’t visible. Kumar had managed the positioning brilliantly. They were able to alight to the ground and carefully close the doors again.
Directly to the side of the hearse was a small shed. Moving slowly so they wouldn’t draw attention, they made their way there. Gemma stepped in first, followed by Baz, who closed and latched the door.
A small, dingy window sat at the top of one wall, letting in a dim, brown-tinged light, enough to navigate by but not enough to see much. Anyone who managed to get to the high window wouldn’t be able to see a deuced thing through it.
A perfect hiding place.
They sat on the dirt floor and leaned their backs against the wall. For the first time since climbing into the casket several hours earlier, Gemma truly breathed. Baz put an arm around her and held her to his side. She leaned against him, exhausted, trying to feel relieved but knowing they weren’t out of the depths yet.
“We’ll have to wait until dark to sneak out,” he whispered. “I don’t know how long the onlookers intend to stay.”
“I’d rather sit in a shed than lie nailed in a coffin.” She sighed. “This’ll do for however long it’s needed.”
“I was having a lot of trouble prying the lid off. I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to get out,” Baz said.
“It were harder to do than I’d expected, but I’ve pried a few lids off. I knew I could do it. And if I could get out, I could get you out. That were all the motivation I needed.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Do you ever wonder how we went three years without even seeing each other, without being together? I can’t imagine doing that now.”
She twisted and kissed his cheek. “If we can manage to hop the jig out of this churchyard, we never need to be apart again.”
His embrace tightened. “Andthatis all the motivationIneed.”
She closed her eyes. Though they were far from safe, she felt much of the fear and tension ease from her. They’d managed the trickiest bit of it. What remained was to wait.
Chapter 31
Night had long since fallen, and Baz still sat in the dingy toolshed with his arms around Gemma. She’d drifted to sleep at one point, but he suspected she wasn’t truly at ease. He certainly wasn’t. He wouldn’t feel relieved until they were back at the Dread Master’s safe house with their deaths having been confirmed to anyone hunting for them. And he likely wouldn’t feel truly at peace until they were settled under false names somewhere away from London and free from the reach of Gemma’s murderous family.
It had been hours since he’d heard anything from the outside.
The time had come.
Moving carefully and quietly, he woke Gemma from her fitful rest. They rose from the spot they had occupied for hours. Hunger, fatigue, and thirst were taking a toll on him, and he was certain Gemma felt it as well. But they couldn’t stop yet. Not until they were safe.