Looks like she
didn't even use this room last night"
Flank glared at the clerk. "What a brilliant deduction!
What are you, employee of the month?"
The desk clerk's features went sullen. He shuffled on
his feet nervously. "Listen, I have no idea if she was here
last night. I got off at six-thirty, thirty minutes after she
checked in. For all I know, she could have left right after I
got off work.'
Frank turned back to the empty room. "Stay here," he
said. "I'm getting the police."
*Whatever," the desk clerk said, following Frank out of
the room.
Frank glanced at the Lexus as he headed outside. He
peered inside the car-it looked normal, no sign of luggage anywhere. Of course, they would have put their luggage in the trunk, and he didn't have the key to open it.
With a sinking sense of dread, Frank hightailed it back to
the Ventura County Sheriff substation, wondering how he
was going to tell his son that his wife was gone.
Six
Lisa Miller was very afraid.
She lay naked on a narrow spring mattress, her wrists
and ankles tied to the bedposts, her mouth gagged. It felt
like she had been trussed up like this for days, but the shrinking part of her rational mind told her that it was
probably only twelve hours or more. She had long stopped
crying; crying made her throat hurt and made her more
tired. It also made it hard to concentrate and sapped her
willpower. And if she wanted to get out of here, she was
going to need all the willpower she had.
She had been so overcome with anger when Mr. Smith
had barged into her room (last night?) that she hadn't
even thought about what she had been planning to tell
Brad this weekend. This was supposed to have been a romantic getaway. A second honeymoon of a sort, punctuated by romantic dinners, cuddling together on the bed
and making love, sightseeing, and just spending quality
time together. Lisa had something else she wanted to do
as well; she had wanted to tell Brad that he was going to
be a daddy.
The thought of her pregnancy hadn't come up when
Mr. Smith came into her room; what had come up was
her sudden anger, and then the instinctual fight-or-flight
mode. It wasn't until Mr. Smith was getting ready to carry
her outside to his van that she thought of the baby.
She had feigned unconsciousness as Mr. Smith deposited her in the back of the van. For a time she must
have passed out, because the next thing she remembered they were moving. She had been blindfolded, but
she could sense that Mr. Smith was somewhere in the
front driving. She had lain on the floor in the back, trying
to calm herself down. The more agitated she became,
the more her head hurt. Her mouth was dry, and the
sweet, almost pleasant-smelling liquid he had knocked
her out with was still in her nostrils. He had trussed her
up more tightly this time, securing her wrists together
tighter than before. Likewise, her legs were tightly bound
together, as were her ankles.
But she wasn't gagged.
Lisa had waited until she felt calm and her throat was
well moistened before she ventured communication.
"Where are we going?"
"1 was wondering when you were going to talk," Mr.
Smith said, keeping his eyes on the road. "1 could tell
when you woke up; your breathing changed. How do
you feel?"
"My head hurts," she said, saying the first thing that
came to her mind. She decided that the best way to approach her predicament was to be calm and controlled.
To let her rage take over was to invite more trouble from
Mr. Smith. If she turned combative again, he might see fit
to pull over and gag her again. Or knock her out.
Oh my God, did him knocking me out with that stuff
was it chloroform?-did that hurt the baby?
"If you promise to behave and not cause a scene, I'll
give you some water and aspirin at the next rest stop.
How's that sound?"
.Okay.
He drove silently for a while and Lisa debated whether
or not to ask where he was taking her again when he answered her question.
didn't even use this room last night"
Flank glared at the clerk. "What a brilliant deduction!
What are you, employee of the month?"
The desk clerk's features went sullen. He shuffled on
his feet nervously. "Listen, I have no idea if she was here
last night. I got off at six-thirty, thirty minutes after she
checked in. For all I know, she could have left right after I
got off work.'
Frank turned back to the empty room. "Stay here," he
said. "I'm getting the police."
*Whatever," the desk clerk said, following Frank out of
the room.
Frank glanced at the Lexus as he headed outside. He
peered inside the car-it looked normal, no sign of luggage anywhere. Of course, they would have put their luggage in the trunk, and he didn't have the key to open it.
With a sinking sense of dread, Frank hightailed it back to
the Ventura County Sheriff substation, wondering how he
was going to tell his son that his wife was gone.
Six
Lisa Miller was very afraid.
She lay naked on a narrow spring mattress, her wrists
and ankles tied to the bedposts, her mouth gagged. It felt
like she had been trussed up like this for days, but the shrinking part of her rational mind told her that it was
probably only twelve hours or more. She had long stopped
crying; crying made her throat hurt and made her more
tired. It also made it hard to concentrate and sapped her
willpower. And if she wanted to get out of here, she was
going to need all the willpower she had.
She had been so overcome with anger when Mr. Smith
had barged into her room (last night?) that she hadn't
even thought about what she had been planning to tell
Brad this weekend. This was supposed to have been a romantic getaway. A second honeymoon of a sort, punctuated by romantic dinners, cuddling together on the bed
and making love, sightseeing, and just spending quality
time together. Lisa had something else she wanted to do
as well; she had wanted to tell Brad that he was going to
be a daddy.
The thought of her pregnancy hadn't come up when
Mr. Smith came into her room; what had come up was
her sudden anger, and then the instinctual fight-or-flight
mode. It wasn't until Mr. Smith was getting ready to carry
her outside to his van that she thought of the baby.
She had feigned unconsciousness as Mr. Smith deposited her in the back of the van. For a time she must
have passed out, because the next thing she remembered they were moving. She had been blindfolded, but
she could sense that Mr. Smith was somewhere in the
front driving. She had lain on the floor in the back, trying
to calm herself down. The more agitated she became,
the more her head hurt. Her mouth was dry, and the
sweet, almost pleasant-smelling liquid he had knocked
her out with was still in her nostrils. He had trussed her
up more tightly this time, securing her wrists together
tighter than before. Likewise, her legs were tightly bound
together, as were her ankles.
But she wasn't gagged.
Lisa had waited until she felt calm and her throat was
well moistened before she ventured communication.
"Where are we going?"
"1 was wondering when you were going to talk," Mr.
Smith said, keeping his eyes on the road. "1 could tell
when you woke up; your breathing changed. How do
you feel?"
"My head hurts," she said, saying the first thing that
came to her mind. She decided that the best way to approach her predicament was to be calm and controlled.
To let her rage take over was to invite more trouble from
Mr. Smith. If she turned combative again, he might see fit
to pull over and gag her again. Or knock her out.
Oh my God, did him knocking me out with that stuff
was it chloroform?-did that hurt the baby?
"If you promise to behave and not cause a scene, I'll
give you some water and aspirin at the next rest stop.
How's that sound?"
.Okay.
He drove silently for a while and Lisa debated whether
or not to ask where he was taking her again when he answered her question.
Similar Books
