The dark interior of the pantry smelled of cedar and dried rosemary.

“Go on,” Harris said.

I took a step inside.

The floor was made of smooth, sealed concrete.

“Where is it?” Harris asked.

He stood in the doorway, blocking the exit.

“It’s in the back,” I said.

I reached for the heavy light switch inside the pantry. My hand shook.

I needed to get him further inside.

“I can’t see,” I said.

Harris stepped into the pantry, his flashlight beam bouncing off the shelves.

The shelves were lined with jars of preserved tomatoes and pickled vegetables.

“Hurry up,” Harris said.

I moved toward the corner, near the heavy steel safe built into the wall.

“It’s in there,” I pointed.

Harris walked past me, his eyes fixed on the safe.

I took a slow step backward.

The door was only three feet away from me now.

I could smell the rain on his coat.

I could smell the gas coming from the kitchen.

The electronic hum of the house suddenly changed.

The security monitor on the kitchen wall flickered.

“Clara,” Julian whispered.