Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 144628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
MaeBe looked up. “They exited.”
He was right. “Call Derek and explain the situation. I’m going now. I can probably get there before the cops send someone out.”
“I don’t understand the situation.” MaeBe stood.
Michael started for the door. “Junior couldn’t make his blackmail plot work, so he’s falling back on an old standard. He’s going to fake her suicide, and he’s doing it this afternoon. I got a text from her saying good-bye, and I assure you she wasn’t planning on saying good-bye to me.”
She wouldn’t have left him. He knew that deep in his soul. She would have stayed and fought like hell with him. She would have yelled and talked it through, and maybe forced him into couples therapy, but she knew they were endgame.
She loved him. She wouldn’t leave him.
Deke jogged back in the room. “Someone has to have fucked with it physically because according to the guys in security, nothing’s wrong. I’m surprised Chelsea didn’t catch it.”
But Chelsea was consumed with work and her kid. Years of being happily married had softened Chelsea’s instincts. She’d likely heard the alarm and thought it best to get her daughter somewhere safe.
“I know where they’re taking her. We have to go.” He had to get to her.
“I want to come with you.” MaeBe held her cell in hand.
“No.” Kyle stood in her way. “They need you here. I need you here. Call the cops and then interface with me. Get those cameras in her place back on. They’ve got backup batteries. Get it up again and tell the guys in security to capture it all.”
MaeBe nodded and then she was on her phone. “Yes, I need…”
That was all Michael heard because he was running out the door, Deke and Kyle behind him.
He had to get to her before they could play out this scene they’d planned.
Because it couldn’t be Vanessa’s last. It just couldn’t.
* * * *
Vanessa watched as they turned into her sister’s driveway, her heart pounding. The driver put the car in park and went to manually open the garage door. He moved quickly, looking around to see if anyone was watching.
“Don’t move,” her kidnapper said. “I’ll shoot you right here if I need to and then I’ll go after your neighbors. The power’s off so the cameras are, too.”
“No wonder you wanted my daddy’s money. I wouldn’t let my cats stay here,” Junior said with utter disdain.
Junior had been the fun surprise hoisted on her when her kidnapper had taken her out the back of the building and shoved her in the waiting car. She’d woken up to the sound of Junior talking about what fun he was going to have.
Her kidnapper had been in the back seat with her, a gun against her side. There had been a driver and Junior in the front seat.
That was when she’d known they were going to kill her.
She’d already tried to open the door. She’d attempted to roll out of the car when they’d pulled off the freeway, but they’d been careful. The child locks were on. She’d been willing to risk the pain of the fall or the bullet he might put in her, but she hadn’t had a chance.
Now she had to worry that he really would shoot whoever happened to be walking by if she tried to scream. The neighborhood was full of kids. She couldn’t risk them.
She had to pray Tessa wouldn’t take too long or that Chelsea would wonder where she’d gotten off to. Someone would call Michael, and she kind of prayed he’d done underhanded spy stuff to keep watch on her. Like maybe he was tracking her phone. They’d been very interested in her phone. Her kidnapper—who was probably also going to be her assassin—had forced her to open it. She had no idea what he’d done, but it had sounded like he’d sent a text or an email.
The driver hopped back in and moved the car inside.
“This place is a dump.” Junior seemed intent on letting her know how far she’d fallen.
The driver shut off the car and made for the door again.
The garage door started to go down behind her, wiping out the late afternoon sunlight and sending her into the gloom.
“We need to move quickly,” the man with the gun said. “I sent the text to her boyfriend. He hasn’t texted back. Hopefully he’s in a meeting or somewhere he can’t check his phone. We have to get this done before he comes looking for her.”
Junior wore slacks and a collared shirt, his head covered in a ball cap and sunglasses over his eyes. He took them off now, and in the dim light from the single bulb overhead she could see the way he sneered. “She left early. He’ll be at work for another hour or so. There’s no need to hurry. I’d like a talk with my dear stepmother.”