Page 101 of Raging Inferno

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Presley came awake gradually. Before she opened her eyes, she tried to recall what had happened. Images came to her slowly. She’d been at the King’s gala with Dominic and Kayne. They’d split up to search for Jessie. She’d run into . . . someone. Who was it?

Voices sounded from nearby. She strained to hear what was being said but couldn’t. Then she remembered. It was Val Anders, the medical examiner. Tamera and Jessie had been bound in the back of her van. That was all she could recall.

Presley took stock of her situation. Her head pounded, and her mouth felt dry. She was lying on her side with her hands tied behind her back. Her feet were free. Big mistake. She could feel the press of her backup gun strapped to her thigh. Error number two. She hadn’t been searched for weapons.

The voices grew louder. It was two women. Was Val talking to Jessie or Tamera?

Someone shook her shoulder. “Sweetie, are you awake yet?”

Presley blinked her eyes open and pretended to be out of it. “What happened?”

“Oh, good. It’s almost showtime. Let’s get you up.”

Two people grasped her arms and placed her in a chair with her arms behind her. Before she could see who the second person was, her gaze was drawn to two chairs in front of her. Jessie King was strapped into one, Tamera Watts the other. Their hands were bound to the armrests, and their feet were tied to the legs. A thick strip of gray tape covered their mouths. Behind both chairs were silver IV stands with saline bags attached. Clear tubes carried liquid into ports in the women’s arms. Jessie was unconscious with her chin resting on her chest, but Tamera’s eyes were ringed with smudged mascara and wide with terror.

Presley’s voice was low and menacing. “Dr. Anders, what’s in the bags?”

“Please, call me Val. It’s a harmless sedative,” she assured her, “with a touch of truth serum thrown in for good measure.”

Presley still hadn’t laid eyes on Val’s accomplice, who was staying out of sight. A moan sounded, drawing their attention to Jessie. Her head slowly came up, and she blinked. Then her eyes rounded in horror. She jerked at her binds to no avail.

Val rubbed her hands together with glee. “It’s showtime.” Presley thought she spotted a touch of madness in her gaze.

“This is how this is going to work,” Val said to Jessie. “I will remove the tape, and you are going to relive that night eighteen years ago when Gwen Parrish died.”

Presley couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips.

Val continued. “You will tell the entire story, leaving nothing out. I’ve already injected you with truth serum, so you won’t be able to lie easily. Here’s the twist. Inside the bags dripping fluid into your veins is a nasty cocktail of drugs that will most assuredly kill you.”

“You said it was harmless,” Presley accused.

“Yeah, I lied.” She turned back to Jessie and Tamera, both of whom were weeping. “I’ve set the liquid to a slow drip. If you aren’t honest or leave anything out, I will increase the flow. If I am satisfied with your recollections, I will remove the stents, and you will live.”

Presley sincerely doubted that.

“So, ladies, the choice is yours. Total honesty or death. Pick your poison.” She laughed at her joke. “See what I did there?”

Chuckling sounded behind Presley. The accomplice.

“Are you going to cooperate?”

Both women nodded eagerly.

“Good. Good.” She addressed the person behind Presley. “Cue the recorder.”

Val was filming this. Unease had Presley’s stomach cramping. What was going on?

Val ripped off Tamera’s tape, and she let out a blood-curdling scream. “Shut up,” Val ordered. Tamera whimpered. Val moved to Jessie and jerked hers off. Tears filled her eyes, but she bit her lips and stayed quiet.

“Jessie, you’re in charge. This is your story to tell.”

Jessie’s eyes shot to Presley. She thought she saw regret there. Presley mentally prepared herself to remember those dark, dark days.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Eighteen years ago.

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