I glanced behind me. The gap-toothed passenger-seat guy had stopped just outside the door, and he spit on the sidewalk. He pulled his phone from his pocket and put it to his ear, then moved out of sight.
The kidnappers’ car, which had been stopped at the red light, was now gone.
I turned to the man and stumbled forward, my hands landing on the edge of the counter. “I was just kidnapped. Please. Call the resort in Evergreen.” Hopefully someone would answer, especially if they were already on alert and knew I was missing.
“I’m calling the police first.” The man hit something under the counter, locking the front door. Then he picked up his cordless phone and came out from behind the counter. He led me into the back room and pulled up a chair. I sat, my legs still shaking.
“Christ. I think you’re in shock.” He draped a jacket around my shoulders.
I clutched it tight around my body. He was probably right. It didn’t matter that I was out of that car; it would be a long time before I felt safe.
Some time later—I had no idea how long—the liquor store owner left me alone.
I heard voices coming from the store, then he returned with a police officer.
The officer knelt in front of me while I held my head in my hands. “Miss, what’s your name?”
“Sarah Mitch— McAvoy.” Fuck. Was it a mistake to involve the local police? Should I have had the liquor store owner call the U.S. Marshal’s Office? I hadn’t memorized John Riordan’s number. Why hadn’t I learned it by heart?
“I need to get your statement,” the officer said. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“I was kidnapped. Two men. They were in the resort and...”
My voice faded as more questions flooded my brain. What had they been doing in Reese’s office? Why would DaBruzzi’s men care about Reese?
“I think they used a stun gun.” I touched the side of my neck, triggering the memory of cold metal and the sizzling burn of electricity.
“Are you hurt?” the officer asked.
“No.” At least, I didn’t think so.
"She scraped up her palms," the liquor store owner said. "I put some antibiotic spray on the cuts."
He had? I didn't remember that. But then my mind and body still felt disconnected.
The officer asked more questions, and I answered them as best I could. I didn't think I should give DaBruzzi’s name. At least not until John Riordan said it was okay. As soon as I got back to the lodge I’d—
“Where is she?” asked an angry male voice.
My head shot up and my back straightened. Goose bumps skittered over my bare arms, and I clutched the borrowed jacket tighter around me.
“Get out of my way and tell me where she is,” Reese demanded.
I held my breath as he burst through the doors into the back room. The store owner was right behind him, trying to hold him back.
The police officer said, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to—”
Reese’s eyes landed on me. “Are you all right?”
I rose from my chair and moved right into him, my forehead colliding with his hard chest. His suit jacket was gone, and I curled my fingers into his biceps, holding on for dear life as the full terror of what happened racked my body.
Reese’s protective arms formed a cage around me.
“I assume you’re her partner?” The officer asked.
“Yeah.” Reese’s breath brushed across the top of my head.
“I’ve already got her statement,” the officer said. “Ma’am if you’re sure you don’t require any medical attention...”