Page 55 of Taken by the Lawman

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Her brain hurt.

That was her first thought.

The second was she had no idea where she’d been taken.

She had woken on a concrete floor in a bare room. The events came back to her one by grueling one. The accident. A bright light. Then a hit on her head that must have knocked her out.

There were no windows. The walls were block and the breeze came through the cracks.

Where was Deegan?

She paced back and forth, trying to work through the fuzzy paths of her brain. She’d left him several messages, telling him what she knew about Kline, but did he get them? The Department would try to find her once they realized she was missing. Deegan would find her…unless he wasn’t safe either.

Stopping midstride, she looked at the metal door across the short space, feeling her chest tighten. There was no door on the inside and it was bolted from the outside. She twirled, looking for any way out. Looking for any weakness in the wall. There was nothing, no flaw or imperfection that could be used to get out.

The killer had brought her here. He had made sure she’d be trapped.

She sat down in the corner and waited until finally she heard a key in the lock, a click, and then the door came open. Kiersten wasn’t expecting a woman. She was tall, wearing a tank top that showed off buff arms with sleeve tattoos.

“Well, well, well. We finally meet,” she said in a thick German accent.

Standing, Kiersten kept her distance. “Who are you?”

The woman stepped into the room. “I’m your worst nightmare, sweetheart.”

Kiersten slanted her gaze. “I’ve seen a lot and trust me, you’re not my worst.”

“Get ready, Polizist!” She took out a phone. “This should be fun.”

The phone rang and the woman handed it over.

Kiersten stared for a long second. Unsure if this was a trick.

“Go on, sweetheart. It’s your Geliebter Junge.” When Kiersten didn’t take the phone, the woman snorted. “Lover boy. Take it,” she hissed.

Barely getting a sentence out, the phone was jerked from her hand.

“There, that should keep the Fed happy for now.”

“What is happening? Why are you doing this? You must know you won’t get away with this,” Kiersten said in a low voice.

The woman stood and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

Unsure of how much time had passed, when she came back, she had a scarf in one hand and her gun in the other. “It’s time.”

Kiersten took a sidestep. “Time for what?”

“For this to be over.” She reached around, took her gun out from the waist of her pants and held it aimed at Kiersten. “Turn around.”

“No.”

“I’ll shoot you. That would be my choice, but I’m not running the show,” she slurred. “Now turn around, bitch!”

She spun and the woman roughly pulled Kiersten’s hands behind her back and tied the scarf around her wrists, so tight that the blood flow was blocked. With a jerk, she twisted Kiersten around and roughly dragged her toward the door and into a semi-dark corridor that resembled the dreariness of room. Cold and dank.

“That way,” the woman said and gave Kiersten a hard shove.

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