“I am,” the eyeballs chirped with enthusiasm. “Do you like them? They’re European. They change color in different light. I can give you the number for Dr. Picard.”
“I don’t want a contact lens reference from a kidnapper,” Riley croaked. She let her head flop to the side and tried to take in her environment.
In addition to the leopard-print-mini-dress woman, she saw cream-colored leather seats, gray carpet, and a faux wood built-in bar stocked with a bottle of champagne and the aforementioned chocolate. Christina Aguilera’sBack to Basicsalbum played softly in the background.
Yep. She was definitely in the limo.Freaking great.The first rule of getting abducted wasDon’t let yourself be taken to a second location.
Depending on how long she’d been unconscious, they could’ve been anywhere. They could’ve been halfway to New Jersey or Perry County or wherever blond bombshells took bodies to dispose of them.
Ugh. Nick wasdefinitelygoing to be pissed. Although, maybe his obsession with Beth’s disappearance could work in her favor. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
“I didn’t kidnap you, silly. I just had my driver carry your unconscious body to the back seat and then drive away.”
Riley eased herself into a seated position. She wanted to look out the window to gauge their location, but the postural change sent her head spinning again. She was exhausted, dizzy, and still strongly considering throwing up.
At least it didn’t feel like the car was moving. Sitting still was good.
She slumped against the door. “No offense, but that sounds exactly like kidnapping. Where’s my Jeep?”
“It’s in the parking lot at Savannah’s on Hanna. You know. The gentleman’s club? I didn’t want to leave it running and unlocked in the middle of Harrisburg. You never can be too careful. There are criminals everywhere.”
“You should know, kidnapper.” Riley scrubbed her hands over her face, willing the vertigo to abate.
In the beginning of her reluctant journey to embrace her psychic powers, every vision had left her dizzy and nauseated. But this was so much worse. She was tired and shaky. Her mouth was dry, and her stomach was rolling. Had she been drugged?
Gabe would know.
Wait. Gabe.
Burt.
Mrs. Penny.
Crap. They’d probably already eaten her sesame chicken.
“You passed out before I could introduce myself,” the stranger said. “My name is Sesame.”
Riley dropped her hands and blinked at the woman. “Seriously?”
Sesame the Stalker nodded perkily.
“Well, that explains that,” Riley muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay, Sesame, where are we? What time zone are we in? Did you drug me? Where did you get those shoes?”
Her captor took an enthusiastic slurp of a dark purple smoothie and admired her own shoes. “Thanks! They’re Chelsea Paris. She’s anamazingdesigner.”
“Way to focus in on the important question. What are the odds that you’ll let me go so I can get back to my boyfriend before he calls out the National Guard to look for me?”
“Boyfriend?” Sesame said the word like it was a liquor-soaked cherry in her mouth—delectable. “I’m so glad you brought it up because that’s definitely an item on our agenda to girl-talk about!”
“I’d rather girl-talk about why you abducted me, followed by a heart-to-heart about where we are and which side of the Murder Me or Let Me Go fence you’re leaning toward.”
“Oh my God. You’re hilarious. My research said nothing about you being so funny,” Sesame said. She shimmied in her seat as if the excitement were too much for her. “I’msoglad I started with you. I think we’re going to be great friends.”
“Great. Are you some kind of serial kidnapper who locks women in her basement and forces them to pretend to be her best friend?” Riley was definitely going to fall out the door and attempt to crawl away if someone started talking about skin suits and lotion.
Sesame waved a hand at her and laughed. “Stop! You’re too much.”
The door opposite the one Riley had wedged herself against opened, and a man in a suit appeared.
