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PROLOGUE

Having just finished lunch with my mother, I headed back to the hotel room we were sharing during our stay in Lake Tahoe. Competing in the Miss Nevada pageant was my dream, and I’d landed many competitions to get there. I was excited after the first round of interviews with the pageant officials, and now, content from a delicious lunch, I wanted to go through my wardrobe while my mother spent the next couple of hours shopping. It might even give me the opportunity for a quick nap before the crowning ceremony rehearsal that evening.

I had always been thankful my mother accompanied me so I could compete in beauty pageants, not only in Boulder City but around Nevada. Being an only child—many would say a spoiled one—I had the opportunity to express myself in all kinds of activities growing up. From ballet and dance to Tae Kwon Do and volleyball, both my parents gladly supported me. Mom was my best friend, chaperone, and travel companion, while my father paid for it, which included everything to work my way up the pageant ladder.

I remember watching Miss World on TV, seeing beautiful women parade across the stage in swimsuits and evening gowns, bathed in the brilliant glare of spotlights to thunderous applause. As I worked my way through the competitions, I envisioned myself as part of the spectacle I was so engrossed in, vying for the title of Miss Nevada, which was a dream come true.

Now a junior at UNLV in Las Vegas, majoring in broadcast communications, I was determined to break into sports broadcasting. It was a lofty goal, but one I wasn’t afraid to work my butt off for—just as I had in pageant competitions.

Stepping out of the elevator, I pulled out my keycard and unlocked our door on the eighth floor. Tossing my accessories onto one of the queen beds, I decided to go through the evening gowns my stylist and I had chosen for the competition, which were carefully hung in the room’s armoire.

One was a blue, flowing, ethereal goddess gown with a cinched waist. Another was a sleeveless, floor-length, fitted red dress. But my favorite was the gold sequined gown with a sculpted silhouette and a thigh-high slit. It featured an asymmetrical neckline that complemented my long blonde hair.

With my attention on the gold dress, I undressed and took it off the hanger. The fit was perfect, and thanks to my lean, athletic form, I didn’t need to wear shapewear underneath, which I had planned to wear on the night of the crowning. I could only zip up the back as far as I could reach, but it was enough to gauge the fit in the mirror.

Looking at myself and feeling excited, I pulled out the lavender Miss Boulder City sash from my suitcase and placed it over my head to mimic what a new Miss Nevada sash might look like. As I admired myself, the hotel phone rang.

Still barefoot, I hurried to answer it. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Miss. This is the front desk. We’re having issues with the plumbing in the room next to yours, and maintenance will need access to your bathroom to check for leaks through the wall. If you feel more comfortable leaving the room, that's fine, but it would be best to answer the door and let them in before you leave. They are on their way to your room now.”

Before I could answer, there was a knock at the door. “Oh, I think they’re here already. I’ll go let them in. Thank you for the call,” I said, not waiting for a response before hanging up.

I padded to the door and looked through the peephole, where I saw a young man in a baseball cap and a maintenance uniform bearing the hotel logo. His badge hung below it. I unlocked the door and opened it, greeting him with a smile. “Hi, I just got word from the front desk that you need access to our bathroom to check something.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said. His eyes flicked to my evening gown and sash. “Sorry to interrupt your day.”

I opened the door fully to let him in and motioned toward the bathroom. “No problem. Will this take long?” I asked, feeling slightly self-conscious in my formal gown and bare feet.

“It won’t take more than a few minutes,” he replied, carrying his toolbox to the bathroom.

I heard him set his toolbox on the marble floor and assumed he’d get to work right away. I focused on my gowns, wondering whether I should try them all on before deciding to stick with the one I was wearing.

I never heard the footsteps coming up behind me. Suddenly, I felt a sharp jab in my neck. I spun as the maintenance man backed away, and I threw a kick at his groin, which he countered by stepping sideways.

I lunged toward him and noticed he didn’t look surprised, as if he’d expected it. He grabbed both my wrists and spun me around, crossing my arms in front of me. Keeping one arm tightly around my waist, gripping one wrist, he locked his other arm around my throat. I struggled to throw him off balance, but his strength overpowered me.

I felt sluggish in my attempt to get free, and the thought of being raped sent a jolt of panic through me. I clawed at his arm to no avail. The room spun as I did my best to fight back, but the heaviness of my limbs made everything move in slow motion.

My consciousness faded as the struggle left me. The last thing I remembered was hoping my mother wouldn’t experience the horror happening to me.

I woke with a pounding headache, my arms and legs bound. Groaning, I tried to sit up, only to be jostled back onto my side. As the brain fog cleared, I realized I was in the back of a moving van. Focusing on the van’s interior, which was dim, I found I wasn’t alone. Across from me was another woman. She was brunette, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing athletic wear, and still unconscious. Her hands and legs were bound just like mine.

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I recognized her. Her name was Jasmine, and we’d competed in smaller pageants in Nevada. She’d arrived in Lake Tahoe at the same time I did, and her parents had accompanied her. I knew she came from a larger family, and her parents’ extra money went toward her competitions. She had admired my diamond stud earrings when we’d run into each other last night and said she wished she had accessories like mine. I was fortunate to have nice jewelry, and since we shared the same hotel floor, I went to her room the next morning and told her she could borrow the studs she’d admired, much to her delight.

I noticed one stud in her right ear as her head bounced on the van floor.

Remembering what had happened in my hotel room, fear gripped me. I was still in my gold evening gown, the lavender sash askew across my body. Not knowing where we were going, I yelled, “Where are you taking us?” but the driver didn’t answer. From what I could tell, it was the same maintenance man I’d let into my hotel room. In the passenger seat sat a bald man, twice the driver's size.

I yelled again, but neither man responded nor looked back. Finally, I pushed myself up into a seated position and could only sit with my hands behind my back and my legs straight out in front of me. I did my best not to cry, but tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision. Jasmine stirred, then fell back into unconsciousness. Scooting closer to her, I tapped her legs with my feet, hoping to revive her. She was out cold, and perhaps that was best.

Why was this happening? How did we get taken? We’d been staying in a hotel with security and chaperones. It didn’t make any sense.

What seemed like another hour had passed when the van finally slowed and came to a stop. The driver turned off the engine and got out. The larger bald man maneuvered himself to where we were in the back. He crouched down at my feet, rotating my body toward the back of the van.

Again, I asked what they were doing and where they were taking us. He didn’t speak but reached back to the van’s console, producing a roll of duct tape. The van’s back door opened, blinding me in the low-angle sun. The driver was silhouetted, waiting for his cohort to pull us out.

I tried to scream, but the larger man roughly slapped a strip of tape over my mouth before I could even open it. I squirmed as he cut the ankle bindings but left my arms tied. He scooted me across to the driver, who grabbed me by the upper arm and pulled me out.