Page 68 of Edge of Secrets

Chapter Twenty-Five

Duncan

I kept the car between 95 and 105, depending on the sharpness of the curves. I was lucky that the road leading away from the city was clear. Traffic going the opposite direction was clogged with rush-hour traffic. My phone showed the map with the icon representing the phone I had given to Nell.

So far, the signal was stationary, fixed at Elsie’s address in Hempton. I wanted desperately to call, but the fact that Wesley no longer answered was reason enough to be terrified. Maybe they’d already discovered the phone and left it, since GPS traces in phones were so common. Maybe they hadn’t. If not, I didn’t want it to ring and give her away. That trace was my only hope.

The signal began to move.

The fear made me want to retch, but at least I knew where she was going. The signal moved along the main drag in Hempton and took a highway heading north and east. I had to change routes if I wanted to intercept them.

It was like walking a tightrope—driving at that speed while monitoring the phone, calculating possible shortcuts. A minute later, my smartphone rang, adding another ball and hoop to my balancing act.

Fortunately, I had my earpiece. “Yeah,” I barked.

“The cops are there,” Braxton said. “It’s not great. The old lady was hit on the head and tied up on the ground. Wesley’s shot. He’s bad, but still alive. No sign of your lady friend at all.”

My gut cramped. “Her signal’s heading northeast,” I said. “Keep me informed. Later.”

“Dunc. I’m sorry about this, man. I let you down.”

“Not your fault,” I said curtly. “I miscalculated. She should’ve had a team. She shouldn’t have been let out of my apartment at all. Gotta go. Later.”

“Gotcha.” Braxton hung up.

I pressed the accelerator harder, glancing over at the map. I had to close that gap. More speed. I let the powerful motor open up, humming at 115 mph.

Play it cool. Like a glacier. As long as she was moving, they probably weren’t hurting her.

But when that signal stopped, I could fucking forget about playing it cool.

I was going to be twisting in the flames of hell.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Nell

Stabbing pains in my head woke me. I was confused. Terrified. It was horrifically dark, and I couldn’t get any air. I was buried alive—dirt and rot in my nose. Air. God, I needed air.

I started struggling. Found that my arms were wrenched back, wrists bound. I was curled in the fetal position. I couldn’t move. My own weight made my hyperextended shoulders burn and throb. The vibration confused me. A bump slammed my head against the floor.

Ah. Yes. I was folded up in the trunk of a car.

Panic would not help. I tried to relax, took the slowest, shallowest breaths I could. Lack of oxygen explained the headache. Carbon monoxide, maybe. Or both.

The car began to rattle and bump. We’d left the asphalt and gotten onto a rutted dirt road. It stopped. A muttering of male voices. Car doors popped open. The vehicle’s weight lifted and shifted as men got out.

I tried to remember how many I’d seen at Elsie’s. Four, maybe.

Elsie. A fresh wave of emotion jolted me. Oh God, poor Elsie. And Wesley, too. They’d shot him and just left him there.

The trunk opened with a hollow pop. Daylight filtered through the filthy, stinking burlap that shrouded me. Rough arms grabbed me under the armpits, giving my shoulders an agonizing jolt. I was jerked out, legs bumping over the lip of the trunk. The ground whipped up and smacked me a blow that loosened every sinew.

“Take her into the building,” said the harsh, cracked, aged voice with a thick accent. “And tie her to a chair. Tie her carefully. I’m tired of rude surprises.”

I was hoisted up and dragged—feet bouncing over rough ground—into an enclosed structure. The sunlight I’d felt outside didn’t penetrate here. It was humid, and cold, as if I were in a cave.

The man dragging me dropped me onto a straight-backed chair. My arms were jerked tighter, fastened to my ankles, twisting me into an agonized pretzel around the chair back. I gasped from the pain.

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