FullDisclosure (27 page)

But Rachel pressed on, regardless. “Are you happy?”

Another long pause. “What? What a ridiculous question.”

That just made her angry. “No, it’s not. It’s a very valid question. And a simple one. Yes or no. Easy.”

“Well, I find that very impertinent. It’s none of your business if I’m happy.”

“Mother, please. I’m not asking to pry. I just…I’m very confused and I want to know if—”

“All right. Of course I’m happy. That’s why it upset me. It’s such a silly question. Anyone who knows me can see how happy I am.”

Another lie!
Rachel was startled by the vehemence with which those words came to her mind. Her mother was miserable! Rachel had been blind to it before, but now that she’d been outside the commune and seen how other people lived, the scales had fallen from her eyes.

Her mother did her work at the commune dutifully enough, but her complaints were frequent and bitter. She barely had any friends, and turned up her nose at anything remotely resembling a romantic advance. She judged people for the most insignificant transgression, always finding fault and rarely having reason to praise or rejoice. She barely smiled and never laughed. Her mother looked old.

“You need to come home, Rachel,” her mother was saying. “Come back to those who love you and we’ll help you find yourself again.”

“What about Noah?” she asked, suddenly feeling lost. “What about the sin I committed?”
And I love him, Mom. I love him so much.
She couldn’t say those words but they were there. Deep and undeniable.

“You’ll be forgiven. But I dare say you should never see him again. He’s a bad influence. Him and that so-called church of his. They’ve led you astray, honey. You need to find your way again.”

“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “I think I do.”

“Good. I’ll book you a flight out today.”

Rufus was beginning to panic. He’d been unable to contact Cyril, and yet one instruction was clear—keep Sadie alive until Cyril could speak to her. But how could he talk to Sadie if Rufus couldn’t find him? And the pounding in the trunk had gotten distinctly weaker. It had to be hot and stifling in there. He should probably pull over and let her out for a while. Let her breathe. But the streets were so busy today. Where could he go so that he wouldn’t be seen?

And speaking of not being seen, where had Cyril disappeared to? Where the
fuck
was he? Why wasn’t he answering his phone? What the hell was Rufus supposed to do?

Think
, he told himself.
Where is Cyril likely to be?
He had told Rufus he was staying home that day. That he had planned to get some work done there. So that was the most likely place to start, of course. The trouble was, Cyril did
not
like Rufus sniffing around his house. Then again, maybe if he was in uniform!

That was
it
! If he showed up in full uniform and the wife answered the door, he could use the excuse that he was questioning neighbors about a recent robbery down the street. Cyril’s wife didn’t know Rufus. At least Rufus didn’t think she did. Hell, the only reason he knew what
she
looked like was from the photo on Cyril’s desk.

Yes. That was the plan. He just needed to run back to his place to get his uniform. It wasn’t far, and once inside his own garage he could open the trunk and give the bitch some air. He grinned. And maybe he could get something from her as well. Just for all the trouble she was putting him through. It was the least she owed him.

Sadie could barely breathe. The trunk certainly wasn’t airtight, but the heat combined with the lack of airflow was combining to make her feel lightheaded and nauseous. She was drenched in sweat and her feet had gone numb.
The tape is too tight
, she thought absently. In truth she’d begun to feel slightly disconnected from her entire body. The only thing she remained fully aware of was the small screwdriver tucked into the back of her jeans.

She’d been groping around hopelessly. Considering her very limited range of motion, it was hardly surprising that she’d found nothing but lint and candy wrappers. But then Rufus had gone around a corner a little faster than usual and something had rolled across the bottom of the trunk. It had lodged against the crook of her knees and, with a little wiggling and cajoling, she’d managed to get her hands on it. It was a screwdriver. She was sure of it. And the flat tip was sharp enough to do some damage. She just couldn’t decide if the fact that it was barely six inches long was a bonus or a detriment.

Of course, being small it was easier to conceal. Rufus would be very unlikely to notice it tucked into her waistband underneath her rumpled shirt. But with such a small weapon how much damage was she likely to do?

Also, she’d be able to do nothing if her hands remained bound as they were. She’d tried using the sharp tip to work at the tape around her feet, but her position and the tight quarters had made it virtually impossible. Unfortunately she’d never been very flexible.

Although she’d surprised herself the night before.

Unbelievably that thought brought a smile to her lips. And then the tears returned in earnest. If she didn’t get out of this she’d never see Evan and Jake again. She was sure of it. Rufus’ behavior had convinced her. He meant to kill her. Although the recipient of his phone calls remained a mystery, it was very clear to her that Rufus was merely waiting for some sort of final go-ahead for the inevitable.

But why? Was she being held for ransom? Of course that was ridiculous. Although Evan was wealthy enough, her association with him was so recent and so nebulous that it was highly unlikely anyone was aware of it. Let alone aware enough to hatch a kidnapping plan.

No. That couldn’t be it. Who else had reason to harm her?

Just as an idea began to niggle at the back of her brain, Rufus went over a bump far too fast and she slammed into the lid of the trunk. She fought nausea, barely managing to stay conscious.

In the darkest corners of her mind she said goodbye to Evan and Jake—and to the bright, happy future she had finally allowed herself to believe could be hers.

“This is crazy.” Jake took a corner too fast and had to slam on the brakes when he came up against a wall of traffic. “What the hell are we going to say to him?”

Evan braced his hand against the dashboard, then thought better of it. Considering Jake’s erratic driving, the last thing he wanted to do was interfere with the air bag. “We’re just going to ask if he has any idea where Sadie might be. Simple.”

“And he’ll laugh in our faces. And then we’ll…what? Demand to search his house?”

Evan’s temper spiked. “Well, what the fuck do
you
propose? This is all we’ve got! The police won’t do anything yet. They’d tell us she might have just gone shopping, or popped out for coffee. She’s barely been missing for two hours!”

Karey’s only ideas had revolved around Cyril Ballantyne. If her investigation into Philip’s life insurance panned out, Cyril stood to lose. And he stood to lose a lot.

“I know.” Jake’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white. “I know.”

“Cyril’s not only our best bet, he’s our only bet.”

“But the guy that neighbor said she saw Sadie leaving with does
not
fit Cyril’s description. Cyril is tall, blond and vaguely Aryan.
Short, dark and greasy
hardly matches that. In fact—”

Jake stopped, and when Evan turned to look at him his gaze was far away. “Actually, that does sound like someone.”

“Who?”

“That cop.”

“Huh? What cop? What the hell are you talking about?”

“That first day, at the diner. Before you came in, there was this cop. He seemed to have something on Sadie. He roughed her up a bit, and it took all my self-control to not plow him one.” Jake’s gaze riveted on Evan. “And he had a mustache. I remember really taking note of it, because who on Earth still has thick mustaches like that?”

“Well, there’s Tom Selleck—”

“Tom Selleck this guy ain’t.”

“And the neighbor? She mentioned a mustache?”

“Yeah. Just as I was leaving she mentioned it. She said it as an afterthought. Said it made him look
mean
. I was so focused on the ‘mean’ part that the mustache didn’t really register until now.”

“Okay, that’s great. But what do we do with this information?”

“We could go back to the diner. See if the owner knows who that cop might be.”

“What about Cyril?”

“He’s not going anywhere. This seems more…pressing to me.”

Evan had to consider for only a moment. “Agreed. Let’s go.”

Incredibly, the car came to a stop—and turned off. Dazed and disbelieving, Sadie heard a garage door grind closed and a brief, glorious moment later, the trunk popped open.

Even as she worried what this might mean for her future, her body demanded oxygen and her lungs gulped it in greedily. Blinking the sweat from her eyes, Sadie gazed up at her abductor. He was frowning.

“Jesus. You’re a mess.”

For just a moment outrage displaced fear.
Ya think? What do you expect, you stupid moron?
But the words could only form in her mind. The duct tape prevented her from hurling the insults and epithets that exploded through her head like shrapnel from a hand grenade.

She merely pulled her eyebrows together and groaned.

“Yeah, yeah.” He reached in as if to lift her out but then thought better of it. “You’re too heavy to carry. You’re going to have to walk.”

Hope bloomed.

Then he pulled out his gun and pressed it to her temple. “So I’m going to take the tape off your ankles, but don’t be getting any ideas. One wrong move and I’ll pull the trigger.” He moved the muzzle to her knee. “I’ll just choose my targets carefully. Maiming can be much more effective.” He cocked the weapon. “Do I make myself clear?”

She nodded vigorously.

He smiled. “Good.”

A moment later she was standing, albeit shakily beside the car gazing around the chaos that he called a garage. It reeked of motor oil, fly spray and garbage. Stacks of boxes, rusted tools and bags of garbage lined the wall. She was surprised he’d managed to squeeze in his car. She had a feeling it didn’t rest here with any regularity.

“Come on.” He was behind her, shoving her toward the door to the house. “Move!”

Her feet and legs were uncertain at first, but it took only a few steps for the blood to get pumping and the muscles to remember themselves. Her feet prickled with a thousand needles, but at least they did what she told them to.

Rufus herded her into the house. Through the kitchen and into the living room. He pushed her down onto a couch that looked as though it had been birthed in the vibrant colors and crazy hippy days of the s—but like a former flower child, had been used and abused—hard. She looked around. The rest of the house hadn’t fared much better. His décor was consistent. She’d give him that.

He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and snapped them around her ankles like shackles. “There. You can move but you won’t be going anywhere fast.”

She mumbled through the tape, trying to convey a sense of urgency.

“What? What the fuck is it?”

She tried again, raising her voice as much as she could despite the muffling effect of the tape.

“Jesus. All right.” He tore the tape from her face in one quick, heartless motion. But she was too relieved to have the use of her mouth back to notice the discomfort.

“I have to use the bathroom.”

He growled. “You can wait.”

“I can go where I sit now, if you like. But I’d prefer a toilet.” Not that it would make much difference to the condition of the couch, she mused. But the threat had the desired effect.

“Fine.” He leaned in, cupping her chin tightly in his fingers. “I need to change, and when I come back I’ll take you to the can. But I get to watch.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Get it? I get to watch you drop your drawers and see that pretty little pussy of yours as you sit down and do it. Can’t have you looking for weapons in there, now can we?”

He sneered. “So you still gotta go?”

Although her stomach churned at the thought she didn’t have much choice. For as much as she would love to soil his couch, it would also leave her with soiled clothes, and no doubt earn her a beating. “Yes,” she whispered. “I do.”

“All right. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” His grin was smarmy and lascivious, but at last he was gone, leaving her alone to take stock of her surroundings fully.

She looked frantically for a weapon or more importantly something that she could use to cut the tape that still bound her wrists. But there was nothing of use in her immediate vicinity. And then she realized she could lower her hands and step through so that, at the very least, she’d have her hands in front of her. But then she’d lose access to the screwdriver.

Not if she grabbed it first, brought it along with her hands and then quickly hid it in the front of her jeans. Her shirt was loose enough—and maybe she could bite through the tape!

She managed to step through the loop of her arms, and was just about to stuff the screwdriver into her waistband again when she had a horrible realization. If he watched her in the bathroom, he’d see the screwdriver. It would fall from her waistband. She needed another hiding place!