He looked at her like he was expecting a response, so she nodded solemnly.
Royce glanced back down at his phone and started playing a game. “Sorry ’bout all this murder business, by the way. It ain’t nothin’ personal. But we got a lotta money ridin’ on this here deal. You understand, don’t ya?”
She shook her head vehemently back and forth. No, she very much did not understand why she had to get murdered so he could be a billionaire.
A new sound caught her attention. The tip-tap of dog toenails outside the door.
Riley perked up. There was only one tip-tapping dog in this house—at least as far as she knew. Burt was coming to the rescue. Not that he had opposable thumbs or a weapon, but he could bark and get someone’s attention. Someone like Josie, who had weapons and the means to take down Zorro.
The light under the door got dimmer, and she heard a loud snuffle as Burt sniffed under the door.
“What in God’s name is that?” Royce demanded.
He put down his phone and got to his feet, pulling out his knife again.
Riley yanked off the tape. “No! Burt, run!” she shouted. At the same time, she scooted forward on her butt, bent both knees, and kicked Royce right in the ass.
He wasn’t expecting it and slammed into the wall. Burt barked on the other side of the door.
“Run, Burt!” she said again.
Royce regained his feet and advanced on her. “Now you’ve gone and done it. You disrespected me, and I don’t care what Lurlene says, you ain’t long for this world.”
The phone screen dimmed, and she scooted to the back wall.
“You can’t run, Dolly. You might as well just hold still and get this over with.”
“Nick! Josie!” Riley shouted. “Help!”
He was looming over her now. She realized not even her psychic powers would have helped in this situation. She was going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.
She found the zipper on her jumpsuit with her taped hands.
“Now, have some decency, Dolly. You don’t need to be goin’ to meet your maker with your cleavage out like that.”
Her sweaty fingers finally made contact with the pepper spray, and she yanked it free.
She heard the hiss next to her, and something hit the grate from the inside.
“Sweet baby Jesus! What is that godforsaken thing?” Royce screeched just as the closet was plunged into darkness.
Riley thought she caught a glimpse of glowing yellow eyes, then decided she had bigger fish to fry.
She aimed the canister in Royce’s direction and depressed the trigger.
The howling told her she’d hit her mark. But her proximity to the spray meant she didn’t get to escape unscathed. Her eyes were burning, as was her nose.
“You bitch!” he screamed. She felt the breeze and realized he was wildly stabbing the air.
She lashed out with her legs, catching him in the knees.
Burt’s incessant bark was growing frantic.
Between the pepper spray and the dark, it was impossible to make out anything…until the closet door opened.
But it wasn’t Burt who had grown opposable thumbs in the moment. It was a blurry stranger holding a guitar.
“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s not nice to kidnap Dolly Parton?” the man said before bringing the guitar down on Royce’s head.
