Page 26 of Boxed In

Don’t even think about it, the warrior warned.

He opened the door of the car and immediately started coughing. It smelled like whoever owned this vehicle must be a chain smoker. The ashtray full of butts proved the point.

Luke pulled out the ashtray and pitched the contents into a patch of weeds.

Then he returned to the car. Emptying the butts helped. But the air was still strong enough to cut with a knife.

What in the name of the full moon is that stuff?”

Cigarettes.

Did someone poison the car?

Yeah, but the guy who drives it likes this particular brand of poison. It’s from a product he smokes. If he’s unlucky, it will kill him. If he’s lucky, it will only shorten his life.

Luke cut off the interior conversation as he slid onto the dirty floor under the steering column and turned on the small flashlight attached to his key ring so he could peer at the tangle of wires.

He hadn’t done this kind of job in years, and it took several minutes for him to get his bearings.

He sorted through electrical connections, then tried a combination of wires.

Nothing happened, and he cursed under his breath.

You know how to do this?

Shut up.

oOo

Olivia ducked into the passageway. Luke was going to hot-wire the car. And while he was busy, she had her own agenda.

She’d grabbed her cell phone on the way out of the office and slid it into the pocket of her pants, but she hadn’t been able to call for help. Now she had the chance to do it.

Quietly she turned her back and pulled out the phone.

Fingers crossed, she pressed the end button to activate the instrument. She knew the battery was low, and she was praying there was still enough juice left to make a call.

When she got a dial tone, she sighed with relief.

Beth was on her speed dial, and she quickly worked the control buttons. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and she held her breath, praying that her friend hadn’t left for dinner yet.

She’d almost given up hope when the other woman answered.

“Beth! Thank God.”

“Olivia?”

“Yes.”

“What’s wrong?”

Now that she had her friend on the line, she realized how strange her problem was going to sound. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Just go slow and tell me what’s wrong.”

She dragged in a breath and let it out in a rush. “That box. You said it belonged to a religious cult.”

“Yes.”

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