“I’m on my way there. Just a second.” Nari sped up, zooming through the industrial park. She put Brigid on hold and punched in Angus’s burner-phone number. It went to the automated voice mail. “It’s Nari. Call me. Lassiter has my mom.” She hung up and returned to Brigid. “I’m back.” She swerved through the gates onto a busy street, ignoring the angry honking from other drivers.
“I sent out a call to the team, and Wolfe and Raider are headed your way. Malcolm is locking down the cul-de-sac. I’ll stay here at the computers,” Brigid said, her Irish brogue thick with emotion. “She’ll be okay, Nari. We’ll get there.”
Nari couldn’t breathe. She swung around a white SUV and punched the gas pedal to the floor, flipping on the windshield wipers as she did so. Her mom had to be okay. “He must’ve sent them an email from me with tickets. Even had a rental car waiting,” she gasped.
Brigid kept quiet. “Metro is two minutes away from your apartment. Just hold on.”
Nari drove faster, weaving through traffic, nearly jumping the curb twice. She sped away from the commercial area, winding by the trees that marked a nicer suburban area. The world flew by outside her car. Her hands shook, but she kept going as fast as possible.
A van shot out of a side street, clipping the back of her car. She screamed as the car spun wildly around and plunged into a tree. The airbag shot out, smashing into her face. It slowly deflated, tossing powder in the air as it did so.
“Nari!” Brigid yelled over the phone.
The world buzzed. Nari shook her head and tried to clear her vision. Had she just hit somebody? She fumbled for the phone. Something wet trickled down the side of her face.
Her door was ripped open and rough hands yanked her out. She tried to protest, lifting her arms, but the man didn’t relent. Her head swam. Nausea attacked her, and she finally focused on the face of the man pulling her.
“Lassiter,” she mumbled, right before he placed a rag over her nose and mouth.
Then there was only darkness.
* * *
“Nari. Wake up.” A gentle nudge prodded Nari’s shoulder.
She groaned and opened her eyelids, instantly regretting it as pain exploded down her face. Coughing, she shut her eyes until she could slowly open them without crying. Where was she? What had happened?
“Nari?”
“Mom?” Nari partially turned as memories slammed into her faster than the van had earlier. She sat up and instantly swayed, becoming dizzy. “Ugh.” She blinked several times and tried to focus her eyes.
A soft hand smoothed back her hair. “Take a minute. You’re okay.”
Her mom’s voice calmed her a little. She opened her eyes to see her mom sitting next to her, eyes wide with concern. “There you go.”
The floor was hard underneath softness. Nari looked down to see a royal-blue rug with gold trim. They were in a small, barred cell across from what looked like a morgue table. Her body went cold. “Where are we?”
Her mom sat with her legs extended on the carpet. “In a basement. I woke up here with you.” She rubbed a bruise along her jawline. “The guy took me by surprise. You?”
Nari nodded. “I think he rammed my car.” The memory of Lassiter pulling her out of the car shot through her, followed by a strong dose of panic. “We have to get out of here.” She stood and studied the cell. Two sides looked like solid cement, while two had long, steel bars set into the concrete floor. Going to the door, she pulled on it, but it was locked securely.
Two royal-blue, high-back, baroque-style chairs were placed facing the cell on the left side, while straight ahead was the makeshift morgue, complete with surgical implements on a counter. The cement floor was stained a dark red, especially around a drain near the table.
The oatmeal in Nari’s stomach lurched around and she swallowed rapidly. They had to get free. Her gaze shifted back to the chairs. Why were there two chairs? That was odd.
A door beyond one of the cement walls opened and closed, and a man turned the corner. “Well, hello.”
Nari put herself between her mother and the cell bars, staring at Henry Wayne Lassiter. He wore black slacks and a dark sweater, and a scar marred the right side of his jaw, as if he’d had several surgeries. His dark-blond hair swept back from his face, thick and wavy, as if he was the protagonist in a 1980s romcom. His blue eyes were razor sharp and lacked any semblance of humanity. Even so, intelligence shone bright.
From her research on him, he was a classic narcissist and sociopath with psychopathic tendencies. There was no reasoning with him or getting him to see her or her mother as human beings. He didn’t experience empathy.
He was motivated only by self-interest and his own feeling of superiority. “You can’t kill us,” she said quietly.
He smiled and walked to the nearest chair, limping slightly with his left leg. “I do like it when they beg.” His voice was scarily raspy.
“I’m not begging,” Nari said, fighting to keep her voice from trembling. “I’m saying that if you kill us, Angus will leave town. He’ll bury himself in the middle of nowhere with a mountain of whiskey and not look back. The game will be over, and nobody will challenge you like that again. Ever.”
“That’s not what happened when I killed his sweet sister,” Lassiter said, settling back in the chair as if chatting with a friend.
