“Help. I’m being held against my will at the Southeast Environmental Commission.”
“Can you give me your name?”
“Tessa Lane. Please, they?—”
A door slams, and tears spring to my eyes. I take the phone and pull it beneath the desk as footsteps echo through the empty room.
“Ma’am, are you still there?”
“Send help, please,” I whisper. “Zane Knox. Stormwatch Landing, South Carolina.” And then, because I’m not sure he can come, I add, “Or Agent Jack Weathers with the FBI. They’ll know what to—” The line goes dead. “Hello?” No, please, no. Risking being seen, I sit up and check the dial tone.
“She’s around here somewhere,” someone says. The voice is deep and masculine, and I recall it instantly. “Keep coming and I’ll pull the trigger.” He’d held a gun to my head as Garrison tried to save me.
It all comes flooding back to me, the sight of him killing that first man.
Of the blade being driven into his body.
Of him falling.
Of the blood pouring from his wound.
No. I won’t focus on that now. I shove those thoughts aside, wishing more than anything that I’d memorized any scripture at all for this moment. Something to give me strength.
Something I plan to remedy the moment I’m safe.
Quickly, I replace the phone and use the bottom of my shirt to clean the blood as best I can. Then I crawl out and move to another cubicle. Making myself as small as I can, I close my eyes and wait for them to leave so I can find somewhere else to hide until help arrives.
That is, if help is coming at all.
“What do you mean you lost her?” Brenda demands as she enters the room. From the volume of her voice, she’s not too far from me, and that thought sends my pulse skyrocketing.
“We cut all the phone lines just in case she tries to make a call. We’ll find her.”
“You’d better, Markson. I’m going to do what I can to head this off, but we have forty-eight hours to pull this off. Find her. Get her under control.”
A door closes, and I close my eyes.
Markson. As in Cal Markson? The guy she sent Zane after? Anger burns hot in my veins, momentarily obliterating the fear. Brenda will pay for her part in this. Somehow, someway, I will make sure of it.
“You heard her. Find the woman.” The door slams again.
With a deep breath, I peek out and start crawling along the carpet as soon as I see that the immediate coast is clear. I need to keep moving. Otherwise, I’ll lose this twisted game of hide and seek.
The pain in my hands and wrists intensifies with every movement, but I breathe through it, shoving the pain into a box in my mind just like I did while growing up. Hide it, and you won’t feel it.
That was my motto. And right now, it may be the only thing that will keep me alive.
I reach the edge of the cubicle row, so I pause to figure out where to go next. I can turn back around and hide or make a run for the kitchen. It’s straight ahead, right on the other side of this big, gaping hallway.
“She’s going to hang us out to dry if we mess this up,” Cal says somewhere behind me. His voice makes my decision for me, so I crouch down and move as fast as I can toward the kitchen. The door is propped open, giving me a chance to get inside without anyone noticing me.
As soon as I’m safely hidden, I straighten and start looking for a weapon. That’s what Zane would do, right? Find a way to protect himself?
As quietly as I can, I open drawer after drawer until I find an old set of steak knives. I palm one, then note the fire extinguisher hanging on the wall. Perfect. Keeping the knife in my hand, I take it off the wall and tuck myself into the small pantry to wait.
If I’m lucky, they’ve already looked here, and help will arrive before they decide to come in again. If I’m not lucky, well, I’m not going down without a fight.
“Did you check in here?” The kitchen door creaks as it’s shoved open the rest of the way. Footsteps have me holding my breath.
