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An old woman gasps. The old man with her drops the screwdriver and smiles at me.

Great. Now I’ve nearly given an old lady a heart attack, and the guy with her is staring at me with far too much interest.

I leave the chains on the floor and push my cart toward the register.

I can come back for them if I need to. Hopefully the rope and zip ties will do the trick.

Plus, I’m pretty sure I still have the handcuffs Violet got me as a gag gift. They have fuzzy pink fur, but they’ll work. Hopefully.

I pay and carry my bag to my car, feeling slightly defeated.

The hardware store was a bust, except for supplies like zip ties, rope, and tape I thought might help me kidnap someone successfully.

I’ve never actually kidnapped anyone before. Well, except I kind of did last night.

But Roman escaped, so that doesn’t count.

Also, I’m really hoping he’ll want to voluntarily stay and that I don’t have to tie him up and tape his mouth shut.

I smirk. His body and mouth can be used for better things.

As I climb into my vehicle, I shake my head. Finding a six-foot-four hitman in a tiny Vermont town should not be this difficult.

I look at the time.

I need to eat and get ready for Greycourt.

As I head toward home, I perk up.

Maybe he really is a method actor, and I’ll see him tonight.

Someone could’ve freaked out and stabbed him while he was working last night. Not everyone can handle being chased through the woods by big, scary men.

I was going to be a sexy red devil tonight, but it’s better if I wear my cat costume so Roman knows it’s me.

Two hours later, I’m back in my cat costume.

I’m duplicating everything from the previous night.

Same parking spot. Same hairstyle and makeup. Even the same lacy black thong beneath my costume.

Of course, one thing is different—I washed the costume and panties. Wearing a blood-stained costume might attract the wrong kind of attention.

I texted Ivy and Violet and told them I’d meet them in a little bit.

Then I disappeared into the woods, taking the exact same route I did last night, periodically checking my watch to make sure it was around the same time I found him last night. Too early and I’m afraid I’d miss him. Too late, and well... same thing.

When I get to the spot where he whirled around and saw me... disappointment settles heavily in my gut.

He’s not here.

Okay, hold up.

Maybe I’m a few minutes early.

Or maybe he really is a method actor and has a different schedule tonight.

I smile.