My knees went weak as everything around me began to spin. Chase caught me under my elbows and lowered me into a chair.
But my eyes were fastened to the TV screen. I couldn’t look away, even if I wanted to.
The man sat in a room. On a stool. He wore black pants and a white shirt, along with the doll face mask. Behind him was a gray cement wall that looked dingy and old. The hair on his arms was dark. His skin was white, but not too pale. It had some tan to it. I couldn’t see any other features.
“You took me by surprise—this time. But no more.” The man sounded as even and controlled as he had before. “Next time, I’ll take you by surprise. You’re going to wish you’d never gotten away.”
Then the TV went black, and the man was gone.
I reminded myself to breathe. But fear was a greater force. Everything inside and outside of me felt scrambled. Like there were moving parts. Too many. All around me. Like nothing made sense. Even though the room was still, all I felt was chaos.
“Holly?” Chase’s face came into focus as he peered at me.
“How . . . ? I don’t understand . . .” How had this man commandeered my TV?
“I need to call Wilson.”
I nodded. As Chase stepped away, Ralph knelt beside me and Olivia stood behind him, a concerned expression on her face.
“That was the man who abducted you?” Ralph’s voice sounded steely.
I nodded, wishing I could forget his image. His voice. The feel of his hands on my waist.
“Holly, why would someone do this to you?” Ralph continued.
I shrugged.
“You have no idea who that man is?” Olivia’s eyes showed the terror I felt.
“No idea.” I had no guesses. No leads. No anything.
“Oh, Holly . . .” Olivia squeezed my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. This is . . . terrifying.”
Terrifying didn’t begin to describe it.
Chase paced back over, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Wilson is coming over. We’ve got to figure out how someone managed to do that to your TV. Maybe we can trace the signal somehow.”
I tried to nod, but I wasn’t sure I actually did so. I kept replaying the image in my mind.
If only I’d pulled his mask off when I had the chance . . . maybe we could find this guy now. Maybe this nightmare could end.
Chase squeezed my shoulder. I knew he wanted to do something to make this better.
But the truth was that there was nothing anyone could do. This was my nightmare . . . and I was determined to live through it.
* * *
Three hours later, the police left—with my TV and router and anything else electronic they could find. They’d muttered things to each other as they worked. Things about high-tech crimes, cyber criminals, extra precautions that might need to be taken.
I’d also heard them mutter the name the “Doll Man.” Was that what they were calling this guy now?
I didn’t ask.
I heard everything. Yet I didn’t.
I preferred to sit on the couch staring stoically.
The whole day seemed to pass in slow motion. Right now, Chase was outside speaking privately with Wilson. As he did, something snapped in me.
I couldn’t just sit here all day and feel sorry for myself. I wanted to do something.
I might not have a computer or a phone, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t sort out my thoughts. I pulled a notebook and pen from the drawer of my end table and sat back. I began jotting down everything I knew.
I knew this man was tech savvy. That he’d seemed to enjoy the process of scaring me. He knew I liked all things retro. He’d even found a retro-style house. He appeared to have no motive other than abducting me and forcing me to live a life I claimed I wanted. He enjoyed using my phone to raise the stakes.
Then I jotted the questions I had. The many, many questions.
How long had Doll Man been watching me?
What was his motive? I had a hard time believing it was ending his loneliness or fulfilling a fantasy. My logical side thought it seemed too farfetched. I wanted—needed—something more concrete.
Had he planned on keeping me at that house forever? It seemed unlikely since it was a model home.
Did that mean he had planned on killing me?
I shuddered.
Was the retro style a way of torturing me, of messing with my head?
I had so, so many questions.
The door opened, and Chase stepped back inside. “You want to get something to eat?”
“I’m not really hungry.” Nor did I want to leave the house.
“Is there someone I can take you to?” He gently lowered himself onto the couch beside me. “Someone you could talk with?”
“I’m a huge proponent of counseling, but I’m not ready to go yet. I’m still processing.”
He nodded, as if unsure what else to say. “I’m sorry this is all happening to you, Holly.”
“Thanks, Chase. For everything you’ve done. I hate that you have to put your life on hold for all of this.” I did. I wanted to make life easier for others, not become a burden to them.
“I would put my life on hold for you anytime.”
The way Chase said the words made tingles go up my spine. I didn’t dare look at him. I was afraid of what I’d see in his eyes. Afraid of what he might see in my gaze.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “I’d feel better if I stayed here again tonight.”
Relief swept through me. “I’d feel better also.”
“Maybe you should see if Jamie wants to stay too?” He rubbed his throat, as if emotions had lodged there. “Not that we need a babysitter, but . . . we should be careful, and I’d feel better if you had another set of eyes here.”
I knew what he was doing, and I appreciated it. He was setting up boundaries and putting safeguards in place.
Last night had been innocent. But with emotions running as high as they were, we both needed to be careful right now. The next time might not be as innocent.
“I’ll call her and see what she says.”
Before I could reach for a phone, Chase’s cell rang. I listened carefully as he answered and spoke to someone on the other line. When he ended the call, he turned back toward me.
“That was about the developer of the neighborhood where you were held,” he said. “Kurt Casey.”
“What about him?”
“The police are trying to track him down. But here’s the interesting thing. The Cincinnati Pilot did an article on him about a month ago.”
“What kind of article?”
“It was about how he liked all things vintage and retro. How he’d created this neighborhood for that very reason. The article even included pictures of the model home.”
“That is interesting.”
“Maybe you fit into his ideal for what life should be like.”
I shrugged. It was a possibility. But could it really be that easy?
Not in my experience.
In the meantime, I just had to wait until the police found this guy and got some answers.
Chapter Nine
I went to bed early that evening. Jamie had come to stay with me, and it had been good to have her there to distract me with stories about her life. It had been good to have her close so I wasn’t tempted to run into Chase’s arms again.
But Jamie had left early this morning—5:30—so she could make it to an interview she was doing for the newspaper, one that required her to travel down to Kentucky. She’d been gone when I got out of bed.
I’d taken my time getting ready before pacing down the hallway. I had to brace myself for another day. I couldn’t stand the idea of just staying inside for hour after hour with only my thoughts. Yet I also couldn’t face the possibility of leaving my house again.
There was, however, one thing I had to do today. With Chase’s approval, I’d jumped on his computer last night and sent a message under my own account. And now, in one hour, I would need to
do something I dreaded.
Until then I would attempt to compose myself and eat some breakfast.
I paused in the kitchen. Just like yesterday morning, Chase sat at the table. He sipped on coffee and reviewed a file folder in front of him.
“You’re awake,” Chase started. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”
“You have updates?”
He lowered the folder in his hands. “I do. Your tox screen came back. You were given a mix of drugs. Chloroform. Zolpidem. Xanax. It would be enough to knock you out for quite a while. They’re also drugs that anyone could easily get—anyone with the right connections, at least. None of them are unique in the criminal culture, in other words.”
“Okay . . .” I suppose that news didn’t help us narrow down anything.
“Also, Wilson wants to keep your phone active, just in case this guy tries to use it again. Maybe we can ping the number and track him down. How do you feel about that?”
“Whatever it takes to catch him.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say. Next update.” Chase drew in a long breath, looking like this one might be a real zinger. “The police were able to track down Kurt Casey.”
I froze. “And?”
“He was . . . dead. It appears he put a gun to his head. Based on the financial problems he was having with his company, no one seems surprised.”
I clenched my eyes shut. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“We all were.”
“Will the police investigate to confirm that? Or was there a suicide note?”
“There was no note, and I’m sure they’ll continue looking into it, especially considering the man’s connection to your abduction.”
Last night, I’d also borrowed Jamie’s laptop. I’d done my own research into Kurt Casey, trying to see if anything about the man rang any bells. He didn’t look familiar in the least. I’d even watched a video of him speaking at a luncheon, wondering if I’d recognize his voice.
I hadn’t.
“Did you talk to anyone in the neighborhood where I was held captive? Did they see anything? Any strange cars?” I asked, still hoping for a breakthrough lead. To occupy my hands, I grabbed an orange from the bowl at the center of the table and began to slowly peel it.
Chase frowned. “No, no one saw anything. Because no one had heard from Kurt, several of the contractors assumed he’d skipped town over the financial troubles he was having with the company.”
“What timing . . .” I knew that probably wasn’t a coincidence.
“Exactly. Since residents can’t move in yet, there was hardly anyone else around. We also checked security footage from traffic cams in the area. We haven’t found anything yet.”
It seemed impossible that there were no leads yet. I slowed down, drawing out the process of peeling the orange. “What about the way the man commandeered my TV yesterday? Did that give us any clues?”
“If so, we haven’t discovered them yet. But I know Wilson and his team are still working on it.”
I nodded. “I appreciate it. I really do. I just . . . I hate living like this.”
Chase’s gaze caught mine. “It’s good to hear you say something other than that you’re okay.”
I said nothing for a minute.
“It’s okay not to be okay,” Chase continued, leaning toward me and touching my arm.
My throat burned. I knew his words were true, but . . . “I would just rather focus on other people instead of the attention being on me.”
“That’s a good way to live life—by putting others before yourself. It’s what the Bible teaches. But there’s nothing wrong with showing people who you really are either.”
“You don’t think I do that?” His words took my breath away. I’d always considered myself to be authentic. I pulled an orange slice from the sphere but couldn’t bring myself to taste it.
“I think you always put your best foot forward. I just don’t think it’s healthy to stuff your feelings down inside.”
I wanted to argue. I really did. But the words lodged in my throat.
Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. I knew who it was.
Drew.
I’d asked him to come.
And now we needed to have a talk. I put my orange down, promising myself I’d eat it later. And then I braced myself for the conversation ahead.
* * *
Chase went back to the spare bedroom to work, giving Drew and I privacy in the living room.
Drew looked as dapper as always as he stood just inside the doorway with his black slacks, pinstripe shirt, and wavy dark hair. The man was the consummate gentleman. He believed in chivalry. He had impeccable manners.
He was basically a male version of myself. On paper, we should be perfect together. So perfect. We both even drove classic Mustangs.
“Holly . . .” Drew looked me over. “You don’t look like yourself.”
I’d worn jeans again today and a black T-shirt. My hair was naturally wavy, and I hadn’t even put on any makeup.
“I thought I’d go for a more laid-back look for a change.”
“You look nice.” He smiled, but it looked forced.
“Can I get you anything?” I didn’t even know what I had, but the words just came from me as naturally as some people breathed.
“I’m fine.”
I nodded nervously and pointed behind me. “Maybe we should sit.”
As I started to step back, he grabbed my arm. “Before we do, Holly—I’m sorry about the way I reacted to you yesterday morning.” He frowned as he paused. “I was just so worried. And then I saw you. With Chase. My mind went to the worst-case scenarios. I know you said you needed some time . . . I should have kept myself in check.”
I rubbed my arms. “I’m sorry you had to walk in on that. Whoever abducted me also took my phone. He must have sent you that message. Maybe he wanted you to come over just then because he knew . . .” Was that possible? Had that man been watching me? Had he known?
Drew’s gaze darkened. “So whoever this is, he’s playing games?”
“You could say that.”
Drew dropped onto the couch and shook his head. “It makes me sick to my stomach to think about. I wish . . . I wish I could take it all away from you. That I could somehow change things.”
I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I know, Drew.”
“It’s hard sometimes to comprehend why such horrible things happen in life. Things that make no sense.”
“That’s the age-old question,” I said. “I know hard times make us stronger. But, sometimes, things are just senseless. There is no reason that will make us feel better. We just have to determine that it’s part of our story. Good or bad.”
“You’re a wise woman, Holly Anna.” A sad smile flashed on his face. Sad probably because he knew life had taught me that lesson, starting with my father’s death.
“I don’t feel very wise.” I frowned. “I like to pretend to be strong, but I feel like curling into a ball right now and hiding from the world.”
“No one would blame you.”
“I’ve just got to believe that the future is going to be brighter,” I said softly. “If I don’t believe that, then what do I have to hold onto?”
He said nothing for a moment. He only sat there, questions in his eyes.
My heart lurched in my chest, and, for a second, I doubted myself. I was probably about to make the biggest mistake of my life. And I had nothing to fall back on. But, in my gut, I knew what I had to do.
I drew in a deep breath before quietly saying, “I can’t do this anymore, Drew.”
“Do what?” He stared at me, confusion in his gaze.
“Us.” A small sob escaped as I said the words.
He lowered his head. I couldn’t see the pain in his eyes, but I somehow knew it was there.
“Is it because of Chase?” His voice sounded low, as if he fought emotions.
“I don’t know what the future holds for Chase and me. But
you and I . . . we’re . . . well. It’s just that . . . I don’t know. It’s like making a cake, I suppose.”
Drew tilted his head toward me, now looking totally baffled.
I couldn’t blame him. “It’s like this. Sometimes, you have two really great ingredients like key lime and caramel. Alone, they each taste fantastic. But if you try to put them together in a cake, it just doesn’t work. The tastes clash with each other.”
“So I’m key lime and you’re caramel?” His lips twisted with confusion.
I shrugged. “Kind of. I mean, it’s hard to say. It’s just that we should be perfect together—”
“Then why aren’t we?” His eyes probed mine.
That was a great question. But I’d come this far. I couldn’t skate around the truth now. “For some reason, when I’m with you, Drew, I have this need to be perfect. This pressure. You don’t put it on me. I put it on myself. But I can’t shake it.”
“You know I don’t want you to feel that way.” His voice held both passion and sincerity.
“I do. I know that. But, for some reason, I can’t change it.” I’d tried to come to terms with it. To deal with it. And I couldn’t.
His face tensed, and he glanced at his hands for a moment before softly saying, “It was because of when I had you work at the funeral home, wasn’t it?”
I remembered that awful day. The day I’d had to try to comfort mourner after mourner. People I didn’t know. People who grieved great losses.
It had taken me back to so many hard places in my own life. Especially losing my father.
And I’d known that would be expected of me if I married Drew. It was a family business. A business where death was a way of life.
I’d hated every minute of it.
I slowly bobbed my head up and down. “That was eye-opening for me. I guess I want to be all prim and proper on the outside. But, on the inside, there’s a bit of rebel there. Most people don’t see it. But I only like the confines of etiquette when it doesn’t smother me. When it’s forced on me, when I need to break out of the box . . . I need the freedom to do so.”
“But you’re always prim.”
I let out an airy laugh. “Some people would disagree. Like when I broke into that house to clean it . . .”
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