I dare a glance again and gag, but manage to swallow and close my eyes. “Unless you want me to throw up on you, you’ll get your phone out of my face.”
The sadist (that’s what I’ll call him) chuckles. “We think the man who was arrested for his murder knows what happened to my brother-in-law. We want him.”
“The killer?”
“Mmhm.”
“You said he was arrested, so he’s in jail. Go get him.” You guys belong there. Bye!
“The killer disappeared and is nowhere to be found now.”
“But you said he was arrested.”
“He was.”
I’m trying to think what might’ve happened to a man who gets arrested for murder and then vanishes. “He’s in witness protection, then?”
The man sighs. “I wish. If he were in witness protection, he’d testify against Alessio, and we could eliminate him. He’s under Alessio’s protection.”
Somehow, the sadist thinks he can get to the killer while he’s under the protection of law enforcement, but not while he’s under Alessio’s protection. “Alessio’s protection is somehow harder to penetrate?”
“I like how quick you are on the uptake.”
“Duress does wonders for elevating my intelligence.”
He laughs. “You are a dangerous woman, Lake Wilder.”
His wife barks something, and he points at her. “You even make my wife of fifteen years jealous. Alessio knows how to pick women. But still, he will need substantial convincing that you’re the one for him.”
“I’m notthe one for him.If I were, he would have asked me to stay.”
“I’ve watched the hotel video several times, and it seems to me you managed to sneak out of his room. He never had a chance to ask you, and if he did, you refused him, which makes you the one who got away. For a man like Alessio, you’re a challenge.”
“Actually, I’m the opposite of a challenge. I aim to please.”
“Either way, he saw something he liked.”
“And you saw something you’ll exploit.”
“Exactly.”
I grit my teeth so I don’t tell him to go fuck himself. “I doubt Alessio thinks I’mthe one.”
“You better work on convincing him, then.”
I chuckle because the sadist’s plan is stupid. “You want me to go back to Alessio and tell him what? That I want to see him again?” I throw up my hands. “That won’t work. I can’t help you.”
“Calm down. You can help me. All you have to do is accept.”
I stare at him, wishing he’d take off his dark sunglasses so I could make eye contact, but also not wishing he’d take them off. When perps hide their face, it’s because they intend keep their victim alive and unable to identify them. I hope I’m right about that.
“What if I don’t accept?” He’ll shoot me. I know it, but it doesn’t hurt to ask. I hope it doesn’t hurt. One never knows. His wife has a short fuse.
The man doesn’t answer. He looks for something on his phone again, and I brace for what he’ll show me when he thrusts the phone in front of my face. It’s a video of a school. Red brick. Stairs. Wait a minute, what’s it say up there? I can’t read the name of the school, but it looks familiar.
The bell rings, and Mr. Smith comes out first, followed by a stream of children, and I lean in, frantically searching for a boy with curly hair and thick glasses. Seconds later, I recognize my uncle’s white SUV as he pulls up to the curb, and my little brother bursts out of the gates with his teacher yelling, “Walk, Prescott. Walk.”
But Prescott runs toward the car, his glasses bouncing on his nose, almost falling off his face.
