Page 114 of Absinthe Minded

“Maggie asked me to do some digging right after you moved in. She was worried about you and Ella.”

Wayne nodded. “What did you find? Anything you can tell us might help find Maggie.”

Cringing, I prayed she wouldn’t say anything to add gasoline to the inferno brewing in the room.

“She works for the cruise line. Has an apartment on Dauphine. Widow of Martin Sinclair and filed bankruptcy after he died. Maggie worried that she would try to use Ella to extort money.” Shanna wiped her eyes on a tired looking handkerchief.

“Does your father know?” My mother speared me with a glare. Evelyn was wicked smart. Too smart. Though Shanna hadn’t come right out and said it, my mom had put the pieces together. She knew I’d knocked up the enemy.

“I don’t know.” I’d half expected Santiago to tell them. Cowardly, but I couldn’t figure out how to tell them without starting the apocalypse.

Evelyn turned her head as if she couldn’t stand the sight of me.

Nadine mumbled something under her breath.

Shanna took her hand. “They’ll find her.”

Wayne and I locked eyes. He made a slight motion with his head, and I followed him outside.

“This is looking more like a ransom situation than a jealous former lover,” Wayne said.

“Whatever they want, I’ll pay it.” I sat on the edge of a concrete planter and hung my head.

“That generally isn’t a wise strategy. If they get the money and run, there’s no guarantee you’ll get Maggie back, or that they won’t try something like this in the future.” Wayne’s radio chirped and he walked a few feet away to answer.

I stood and went back inside. I needed to talk to my brothers.

36

Maggie

My head bouncedagainst something hard several times and gasoline fumes assaulted my already turbulent stomach. I forced myself to focus on my surroundings—a moving car?

Oh my God. I’m in a trunk.

A scream bubbled from deep in my gut, but fear seized my lungs making it difficult to get a breath. The air felt thin, too thin tobreathe.

I pushed the trunk door with bound hands, but it didn’t budge.

Calm down and think.

I felt along the lock for the safety release. My fingers pressed against a wire, but the latch itself had been removed.

Pushing my fear down deep, I focused on the situation. I was in a locked trunk, hands bound in front of me. Legs free.I can do this.

I managed to pull a bobby pin from my hair. It fell beside my cheek. I removed another one, but it was hard to hold onto it with my hands cuffed, in a moving car, while shaking in fear.

Holding the third pin tight, I bit off the rubber tip and scraped the end of the pin across the body of the cuffs. Once the tip entered the lock, I bent it to a ninety-degree angle.

Halfway there. I wedged the curved end into the hole and twisted in the opposite direction, forming a dip before the first bend. I put the pin in my mouth and used my tongue to test the shape.

The car slowed and I gasped, nearly swallowing the damned pin. My heart raced as unwelcome thoughts filled my mind. If they stopped, if my kidnappers came for me now, I’d be defenseless. Closing my eyes tight in the dark space, I worked the bobby pin into the lock.

The car lurched forward, and I dropped the pin.

Minutes, seconds, or hours ticked by. Time became too dangerous a concept to consider.Are these my last moments alive?

The longer they drove, the better my chances of getting out of the cuffs, but the longer they drove the farther away from home I’d be. Time was not my friend.

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