Page 70 of Trick's Trap

A knock on the door interrupted her mid-text. Semi, one of the hotel’s porters, was there with a delivery.

Accustomed to getting a slew of presents from Patrick, and now wedding gifts, she signed for the box and took it next to the dining table by the window to open.

The unmarked box held a phone with a wide new screen.

“He already got me a phone,” she muttered.

True, it wasn’t as fancy as this one, but Patrick needed to stop shopping online for her when he was working. He’d filled her closet with coats and expensive shoes. If he started with electronics, they’d be buried in gadgets.

The screen on the smartphone blinked on, making Tahlia drop it on the table.

She frowned. The impact must have turned on a movie. It appeared to be some sort of spy thriller. The phone displayed a live view of an office. There was a man was talking on the phone, his back to the screen. A red bull’s eye was superimposed on his back. It shrank until the red laser sight was pointing at the man’s head. Then he turned to face the window.

Patrick. It was Patrick. Someone was filming him from a neighboring skyscraper, and they had him in the sights of a gun.

Her half-strangled scream didn’t make it past her throat. Tensing, she was about to run to Patrick’s office when a voice stopped her. It was coming from the phone, superimposed over the silent video.

“Hello, Tahlia. My name is Killian. We are going to get through this together, but you have to listen to me. Do not move. Warning your boyfriend will only get him killed.”

“What?” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Shivering, she reached for the phone. A red laser beam bounced of the back of her hand. Gasping, she snatched it back.

“Why don’t you sit down? We need to talk.”

The voice on the phone was deep and smooth, more like the suave hero of a movie than the villain.

She didn’t move.

“Tahlia.Sit.”

Shaking from head to toe, she pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Good, now what I need you to do—”

“Hey, Tahlia! We got tired of waiting for you, so we came up.”

Her head snapped up.

No! Peyton and Maggie had walked in holding three coffees in a cardboard holder.

Peyton was holding a danish. Tahlia didn’t know why her mind seized on that.

The voice was not happy about the interruption. “Tahlia. Focus”

Maggie and Peyton blurred as tears filled her eyes. She snapped, rushing to her feet to wave at them frantically.

Get out, she mouthed.

Maggie frowned and stepped closer, but Peyton grabbed her arm, jerking her back. Her wide blue eyes were fixed on the bouncing laser light dancing all over Tahlia’s limbs. Reacting, she tackled Maggie around the middle, pulling her down behind the long cream leather couch near the door.

“I don’t like disruptions, Tahlia,” the voice continued.

“It was the maids coming to clean. They’re gone,” she lied, hoping the man didn’t have a clear view of the back of the room.

“Good. Now back to business. We need to get you out there without interference. You’ll have to go out the basement exit. It will be unmanned for a three-minute window at exactly seven forty-five. That’s how long you have to get down there. There will be a car waiting for you. Take the phone.”

Her hand shook as she picked it up. The screen zoomed in on Patrick again as if to remind her about what was at stake.

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