That was the last bit of satisfaction she was to have in a while. They left Lincoln behind and drove along back-country roads with no obvious destination, at least none obvious to Lauren. Her mind jumped ahead, touching on possible stopping places and possible forms of punishment in store for her, then recoiled in fear, seeking refuge in more purposeful thoughts.
“Did she have any birthmarks?” Lauren asked suddenly.
The man on her left frowned at her.
“Susan Miles. Did she have any distinctive birthmarks? There had to besomeway I can prove I’m not her.”
“Birthmarks. That’s an interesting thought. I could ask the boss about it. Doyouhave any distinctive birthmarks?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe we should pull over to the side of the road. If you strip, I can check you out.”
He was goading her. She looked away. “I don’t have any birthmarks,” she muttered half to herself as she shriveled into the seat. Her arms and legs had been released once they’d left Lincoln proper, but she might as well have been shackled for the little freedom she’d gained. Shoulders hunched, she tried to minimize contact with the bodies on either side by making herself more narrow. It was a token gesture; the more she narrowed, the more the two men spread.
They drove on and on. She lost track of their direction, and much of the scenery was unfamiliar. With each mile, though, she grew more edgy. They couldn’t drive forever. Sooner or later they’d have to stop. And what then?
“Y’know,” the man on her left offered, “you really blew it. You had it all. The boss adored you—”
“Who is he?”
“Oh, Lord.”
“What’s his name? If he’s the one who’s behind all this, don’t I have a right to know his name?”
“You don’t haveanyrights, pretty lady. You gave them up when you double-crossed him.”
“I didn’t double-cross anyone!”
His nonchalance faded. “I’d watch my tone if I were you. It’s getting uppity, and if there’s one thing Mouse can’t stand, it’s uppity women. Right, Mouse?”
Mouse grunted.
“I’m sorry,” Lauren said as conciliatorily as she could. “I didn’t mean to sound uppity. It’s just that you assume I know everything, but I don’t, and I feel as if this whole thing has to be an awful joke, except no one’s laughing, and I’m sitting here trying to figure out a way to prove to you who I am, but my mind is getting all foggy and … and …” She’d begun to shake. Tucking in her chin, she closed her eyes. “I don’t feel very well.”
“Throw up in this car, lady, and I’ll make you lick it up.”
She swallowed hard against the rising bile and took several deep breaths through her nose. The strain was getting to her. Her insides continued to shake; she wrapped her arms around her middle as though to hold them still, but it didn’t work. She was hot and tired and positively terrified.
“It’s amazing,” the man on her left said. “You’re quite an actress, after all. Funny, you should be such a flop in Hollywood.”
“I thought you said Susan had a boutique,” Lauren murmured weakly.
“Yeah. But she was like everyone else in that town. Between running the boutique and pleasing the boss, she read for every bit part she could. Had a couple of walk-ons.” He sent her a look of ridicule. “She wasn’t much of an actress, at least not on the silver screen. What she’s doing now is remarkable.”
“I have never been, nor had the slightest desire to be, an actress.”
“Sure.”
Lauren didn’t have the strength to argue further, and they didn’t stop driving. Dusk fell over the landscape. She thought she’d explode if something didn’t happen soon. Once she cast a glance over her shoulder. The man on her left picked up on it instantly.
“Sorry. No one’s following.”
She grew defensive. “Aren’t we stopping for dinner or something?”
