But one thing was clear—James likely hadn’t been taken by Knox’s men, which meant my best course of action was to go back to the hotel and wait.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m heading there now. I’ll let you know when I’m back in the room.”
I hung up and continued walking, trying to put more distance between me and the scene behind me.
I was almost to my car when a figure darted out from behind a car parked on the street. They tackled me to the pavement, face first, and lay on top of me to pin me in place.
Caught by surprise, it took a second to realize what happened and react. I tried to rise up and shove them off me, but I felt a sharp sting in my neck. Then everything faded to black.
Chapter 32
I woke to a pounding headache. My eyes were still closed, and at first, I thought I was waking up with a massive hangover. Only I wasn’t lying on a bed—I was sitting up, and I couldn’t move my arms and legs.
Where was I?
I tried to open my eyes, but they were too heavy, and when I got them open to slits, I saw a dimly lit room. Everything was gray.
I stopped trying to pry my eyes open. I could go back to sleep and wake up later.
Only my shoulders were restrained, and my palms and knees stung.
I worked harder to open my eyes. I could make out a figure in a chair about three feet in front of me, but then my eyelids sank shut again.
“Time to wake up, Harper,” a man said in a soothing tone. “I’ve got a busy night ahead of me, so I don’t have much time.”
Who was that? My brain was still sluggish, and I wondered if that was why I couldn’t place him. But I had to know him, right? Otherwise, why would he be sitting in front of me while I was sleeping?
The ache in my shoulders was becoming unbearable. I released a low groan and tried to move them, but they were stuck.
I forced my eyes open again, getting a better glimpse of the man in the chair. He was wearing dress pants and a button-down shirt with a tie. He looked to be in his forties, with thin, dark-blond hair trimmed short. He was sitting in a chair, turned slightly to the side as he watched me like I was a still life he wanted to draw.
I tried to move my hands again and realized they were tied behind my back. I no longer had my jacket, and my wig had been removed, my real hair brushing my shoulders. My feet were bare, and my jeans, which had concealed my gun, were torn up to my calf.
Panic swept through me and I jerked harder on my hands and legs, but my arms didn’t budge, and my legs were tied to the chair as well. Terror burned off my grogginess.
“I’m sure it’s disconcerting waking up to find yourself in this position,” he said in a dull tone.
“Who are you?” I demanded, but I already knew. I also knew I was screwed.
If I’d met him out in the world, I would have taken his smile for a friendly gesture. But I was tied to a chair in the center of a concrete room of about ten feet by ten feet. His smile was pure evil.
“I think you know who I am. I hear you’ve been looking for me.”
I tried to shrug, but my bound arms made it impossible. “Who knew the big bad Gerald Knox was really a scared little boy who hides in the dark?”
He laughed and shook his head. “You’re one to talk. Didn’t you run off to Lone County to hide and lick your wounds?”
“Been stalking me?” I asked in defiance.
“If you wish to call it that.” He shifted in his seat. “Where’s my accountant, Harper?” His voice was icy.
“How the hell would I know? I’m not your assistant.”
“You and Malcolm paid her a visit, and now she’s gone.” He leaned closer. “What did you do with her?”
“I didn’t do anything with her,” I said in a flippant tone. “Maybe she was tired of working for you and quit.”
He lifted his hand and slapped me hard enough across the cheek to make my teeth rattle.
