My only option is to stall.
“So why leave the backpack in the reject box? Why abandon it if it had all this inside?”
“Hell if I know. It was Brandon’s job to transport the goods across the canyon. He made up some excuse that he needed to hide it after he suspected he was being followed. He got a bit too paranoid for my liking. Should’ve gotten someone else to do the job, but he had charm, and he was willing. He’d actually started out okay, until he got greedy.” Her expression sours before a frown overtakes her face, and she meets my gaze.
“And I guess I just got caught in the crosshairs,” I mutter quietly.
Her eyes run over me again. “Look, I’m a thief. I’m not gonna kill you, as long as you keep cooperating, but I am going to stash you somewhere that’ll take them a while to find you. By the time your precious park ranger finds you, I’ll be long gone. So you…ah, might wanna change into something warmer.” A tinge of guilt seeps into her voice before that angry, I’ve-been-wronged scowl replaces it. “You’ve got two minutes.”
The sound of a door slamming shut in the hallway makes me flinch, and when I look back, Bonnie’s staring at me like she’s waiting to take my food order. “Tick tock, darlin’.”
Right. My captor is giving me time to change before dragging me against my will to a remote location. I grab my coral sweatpants and matching sweatshirt, moving toward the bathroom, but Bonnie stops me and clicks her tongue. “Gotta stay where I can see you, Princess.”
I really don’t like it when anyone but Jack calls me that.
The pants are easy enough to shimmy on beneath my dress, and the fruity notes of the wine splashed on the front of the bodice fill my nose as I pull the dress up over my head, being careful not to snag my stitches. Bonnie stares impatiently when I turn around and hurry into Jack’s T-shirt and my sweatshirt. I swap my sandals for my dirty hiking shoes, praying Jack is close.
“You’re the one who shot at us? In the canyon?” I ask, grimacing at the pain in my arm.
“Guilty.” She raises her hand with a twisted sense of pride in her eyes. “I tried getting you away from the backpack. Didn’t work out the way I planned, though.”
“Why aren’t you worried that we were seen together tonight? What about when Jack starts asking questions and finds out you were with me?”
“Oh, I’ll be very sympathetic when he tells me you’ve disappeared.” Her mouth dips in a pout. “I’ll even put my best effort into helping find you, before I disappear, that is. Ken and I are getting out of here.”
She sniffs, pushing her shoulders back while she raises the gun to motion for me to head toward the door.
My hands slide into the pockets in the front of my hoodie. “Ken is your husband? So you’re doing all this for him? Or it at least started out that way, I’m guessing.”
Her mouth pinches as her eyes flare with contempt. “One slip up, and they fired him. After twenty years of service to the state, all his benefits, retirement, just gone, ‘cause the man made one stupid mistake.” She draws in a slow, steady breath, hernostrils flaring with the effort to calm herself down. “And I had to bust my ass working while everyone looked at me like I was dirt. Well, not anymore.” She shakes her head, a humorless chuckle tumbling from her throat. “It was a victimless crime, until Brandon decided he didn’t like his cut of the money. The nerve of that little punk, threatening to find his own buyer. Hah!” She scoffs, gripping my arm and assuming the same fake pose to usher me toward my isolated fate. She glances through the peephole before looking at me, but I interrupt whatever she was going to say.
“I know. No funny business,” I drawl.
I’ll try any business if it keeps me from ending up alone in a place where nobody can find me.
Well, Jack. I really tried.
“Put the gun down, Bonnie.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Bonnie and I both flinch and pivot to face the deep voice behind us. Jack is standing at the threshold of the door joining our rooms. A small whimper slips from my lips, my eyes closing with a wince as Bonnie grips my arm too tightly, my stitches twisting under her grasp.
Pushing past the searing pain, I force myself to look up, needing to make sure he’s really here. Even though there’s a gun bruising my side, that hopeless tension seeps out of my shoulders.
I’ve never been more elated to see someone, yet unable to demonstrate it. And I once dished up food beside Jeff Goldblum in the VIP room at a Cardinals game. I told him the hummus was fresh.
“Jack—” Bonnie’s voice is pained with regret.
“It’s okay, Bonnie. Just put the gun down, and we can talk about this.”
Her eyes are locked onto his as she opens the door, its hinges squeaking while she uses me as a human shield in the doorway. She whispers “No” before shoving me forward, my palms burning as they slide on the hard carpet. Jack is helping mestand, and he’s saying something to me, but all I hear is the beating of my own heart while the concern in his voice grows.
The room spins, and I grip Jack’s arm. Then he’s picking me up, walking to the bed and carrying me in his arms.
“You got my message,” I sigh.
He lets out a soft chuckle. “That was clever. I knew something was wrong when you mentioned wearing gray.”
