“Well, you need to head home to your kids,” I said. “And I’m due to meet another reporter for a drink at the hotel. I’m probably pushing off for the city tomorrow.”
Lies, of course. But I had to make him think someone was waiting for me, and that I’d soon be long gone from these parts.
“Sorry to see you go. Again, I appreciate what you did—finding Shannon.”
“Thanks, Cody. Good luck with everything. Do I go out the way I came in?”
“Yes. Out the front.”
I hitched my bag up on my shoulder and shot him a smile that I hoped didn’t seem as phony as it was. I pivoted and began to walk past the deserted gray workstations toward the hall that led to reception. My heart was hammering hard enough for me to hear it in my ears.
He was letting me leave, though. Maybe he hadn’t managed to read my mind, or if he had, he realized I had no proof of anything. Or maybe I was worried for nothing. But something about this whole thing scared me. I would call Killian the second I was out of there.
It was when I reached the turn in the hallway that I heard him behind me.
“Bailey, wait a minute.”
Panic gripped me. Don’t look scared, I warned myself. I slowed my gait and turned to face him.
“There’s one other thing,” he said. He’d caught up with me and moved a little ahead, his eyes nearly black and shiny. He took one more step, now fully blocking my path to the door.
“Yes?”
“It was a mistake, wasn’t it?” He flashed a small, rueful smile.
“What was?”
“Mentioning Dirk in that article. I knew it the second I saw it online. I should have kept that to myself.”
He had killed Shannon, I realized. I knew it now in my bones.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” I said stupidly. I could feel the fear in my legs, dissolving them into jelly.
He shot out his arm and tried to grab me, but I jerked back fast, and he caught the strap of my purse instead, dragging it to the floor with a thud. I backed up, and without even thinking, reached for a rolling desk chair in the workstation to my right, then frantically shoved it toward him. The force wasn’t much but it caught him just right, pitching him forward against the arm.
My only way out was through the factory, I realized. There would be exits inside, there had to be.
I swung around and bolted toward the back wall, practically flinging myself at the door and yanking it open. The lights were still blazing in the cavernous space, though it seemed empty of people. I took off down the middle, between two motionless conveyor belts. I desperately scanned the room for exits, but the belts blocked my view of the sides of the building.
I couldn’t hear Blaine behind me. Had he raced outside, I wondered, planning to cut me off in the parking lot? But then seconds later he exploded through the door behind me.
I ran harder and faster, straight ahead, the effort searing my lungs. If he caught me, he would kill me, just as he’d surely killed Alice.
I reached a wide passageway at the end of the factory and barreled through it. I was now in the warehouse, loaded with rack after rack of sodas and beer. I flew by them, cartons and bottles all in a blur. At last, up ahead, on the left, I spotted anemergency door. Blaine was directly behind me now, and I felt the whoosh as his arm shot out again, trying to snatch me. I dodged to the right. He missed, and as I glanced back I saw him stumble a little. I darted toward the racks again, where I grabbed one of the liters of soda, throwing it hard at his head. He took the bottle in the face, yelped, and staggered back.
“You bitch,” he yelled.
I grabbed another and hurled that, too, but this one simply glanced off the side of his skull.
I spun around and ran, my lungs on fire. Finally I reached the door and lunged for the crash bar. It flew open, and I spilled into the parking lot, with the alarm blaring behind me.
I’d exited at the very rear of the building onto a tarmac illuminated by security floodlights. My freaking car key, I realized, was in my bag, which was lying on the floor of the office. I would have to make for the road and flag down a passing vehicle. I gasped for air and took off past the loading docks toward the front of the building.
The sound of a car engine cut through the night, coming from the other side of the building and drowning out the alarm. Was ithim? Before I could decide what to do, a dark car rounded the back of the building. I moved even faster, a stitch stabbing at my side. I could hear the car coming up behind me. If it was Cody, I was sure he’d plow right into me.
But the car slowed, and I turned to see Riley sitting in the front seat, her window half down. Relief flooded through me like water gushing through a hose.
“What’s going on?” she called out, bringing the car to a stop.
