A buzz came at his phone. Zane again, but this time it was a call, not a text. Blayze tapped the receive button and cleared his throat.
Zane picked up on his cue. “Your hunch was right, Blayze. Looks like the plastic surgeon’s ex-wife has her hooks in our man, Victor.”
A biting blast of cold sludged up the back of Blayze’s neck as he continued.
“You should see some of the comments she’s left him on social media. She’s quite the cougar. Her real name is Jacquie Hernandez, but she goes by She-Hulk. That doesn’t sound angry, does it?”
He lifted Frank’s phone against his ear once more. “Frank?”
Nothing.
Blayze dialed him back, his mind whirling with the possibilities. This changed everything. Jacquie may have been the one from the start. Sending the packages. Or at least egging Frank on as he did. A standard machine picked up the line; Frank was done talking, was he?
Blayze cursed. A situation he’d felt was winding down moments ago had just taken a sharp turn into volatile city.
He had two options: Text Frank and She-Hulk, playing thewe-already-know-who-you-arehand, or chuck the negotiating and go in for Sophia.
Both options had their risks. If Jacquie knew her presence was known, she might be willing to negotiate. At least then Blayze would be speaking with the one running the show. But it could also set She-Hulk into a panic, causing a deadly backlash. Something Blayze wasn’t willing to risk.
The shed’s exits had explosives attached to them, so they’d need to choose an alternate route, and go in fast and hard. He considered the plan he’d only half entertained before, realizing he’d have to put it into action after all.
“Cross your fingers and say some prayers, Zane,” he mumbled. “I’m going in.”
“You’ve got this Blayze,” Zane encouraged. “Heart of a warrior.”
Blayze pulled in a breath of encouragement. “Heart of a warrior.”
* * *
Sophia could sense things closing in on them. It’d been several minutes since she’d heard anything from Blayze, and Frank had disappeared in the back corner with whoever was there. The presence of that extra person became obvious as whispers picked up. A female voice; the two were bickering in the maze of storage shelves.
Sophia had made good use of her time alone, unlatching the tiny clasps of each high heel as Frank stepped away. Now she needed to go a step further, preferably without the use of her hands, in case they peeked over at her. She’d been eyeing a hiding spot since the idea came to mind. By the looks of the pitched ceiling overhead, the shed was the size of a tennis court. She was centered in front of the garage, which seemed to be the only spot not occupied by rows of warehouse shelving and massive props.
While Frank was hidden somewhere among the shelving to her left, the other section of shelves along the right side of the shed were free game. If she climbed into a vacant spot, it was possible she could surprise Frank or the lady with him when they came looking for her.
She leaned slightly over her lap, glanced past her rounded knees, and carefully wiggled her left foot out of the loosened heel. Once it was free, she rested her foot right on top of the heel and released a slow, pent-up breath.
“…making it seem like you didn’t want to do it,” the female whined.
“Idon’twant to do this,” Frank spat. “It wasyouridea to kidnap her.”
Sophia froze.
“Well, it’s done now,” the woman hissed, “and we can’t just let her walk away from this. She already knows someone’s in here with you. If we let her live they’ll find us.”
“Oh, so you don’t care that they already know whoIam? You were fine to let me be the face of the whole thing but heaven forbid they even know you exist?”
Frank’s complaint registered somewhere in Sophia’s mind, but it was a distant second compared to what the female said.Let her live …ifwe let her live…
Heart hammering, Sophia reached down, tore off her other shoe, and made a run for it. Barefoot, the concrete floor cool against her feet, she padded straight to the aisle. The tan, beveled siding caught light and shadow as she ran past three rows and darted into the fourth. Desperately, she scanned the shelves. Labeled storage bins, wigs on Styrofoam heads, and colorful hat boxes. She’d be lucky to squeeze a needle between the tightly packed items.
A cold sweat broke over her skin. She sensed they were coming. The metal siding echoing a familiar hush, like the sound it made as she rushed by only seconds ago.
She spun, scanned the towering shelves behind her. Household furniture like the items Frank staged in front of the garage. That must be why she spotted an empty space.
The metal bar was cool against her palm as Sophia wrapped a hand around it. She stepped up, ready to hoist herself to the next level when a hollow click sounded.
“Freeze.” Only it wasn’t Frank. The whispering woman had found her voice at last.
