I climbed the iron stairs without hurrying, cut Phoebe’s ropes, and pulled her into a tight hug. “It’s over, sweet girl,” I whispered into her hair. She was crying, but unharmed.

Gwendolyn sank onto the grating, her confidence gone. “Heather, please — just let me take some money and leave the country, I’ll never come back.”

I crouched and unclasped the silver Saint Christopher pendant from around her neck. “This is what you used to convince Russell you pulled him from the fire.”

“I just found it in the dirt—”

“You took it from my pocket while I was unconscious on a stretcher,” I said.

Ronald came onto the walkway with federal authorities behind him. “Gwendolyn Fairchild, you’re under arrest for aggravated kidnapping, extortion, and conspiracy.