Unfortunately, you are sick and feeling suffocated and dizzy.
Fortunately . . . She drew a blank. Fortunately . . . The word hung in her mind and she raced to find something hopeful—anything!
Fortunately . . . There had to be something!
Fortunately . . . think, Sadie, think!
Fortunately . . . that’s it!
Sadie’s thoughts ignited and hope surged through her. She liked to have the TV on when she baked, and she always baked a lot in the fall and Shawn had gotten her hooked on survival shows. She knew exactly what to do when trapped in the trunk of a car.
She blinked her eyes to clear her vision and looked around for the trunk release—a standard safety feature in most cars manufactured during the last decade. There! She could see the small plastic pull cord set against the top of the trunk above her, green and glowing up and to the right, but when she reached toward it, searing pain flared in her shoulder. She tried again, but the release seemed miles away. She couldn’t reach it. What were her other options? She was on her back and tried to straighten out her legs which felt tangled around each other.
There was nothing else to do but kick out a taillight. The car seemed to be going slower than it had been, but not as though the driver planned on stopping. What would the taillight feel like from the inside? She remembered that a plastic bracket held the taillight in place. What could she break it with? There weren’t many options.
She needed to turn her head toward the back of the trunk so that her foot would have the necessary trajectory, and she gasped as fire ripped through her shoulder the moment she moved. The pain was paralyzing and brought tears to her eyes. How was she supposed to escape with bound hands, a bad shoulder, and limited motor control? It wasn’t a question she was going to waste time answering. She had to stay focused and believe there was a way out.
It took clenching her teeth and allowing herself to whimper to withstand the pain, not only in her shoulder that had been giving her problems for months, but also in her left hip that had banged against the filing cabinet in Gabrielle’s office. She felt sweat breaking out on her forehead even though she was shivering from the cold. She took a deep breath and tried to push the pain away as she’d done before. After what felt like forever, she was positioned as well as she could be—the trunk wasn’t roomy—her knees pulled up until they touched the top of the trunk once she was aligned with the left taillight.
With her shoes on it was difficult to feel the difference in texture that would tell her she had located the bracket, so she used the toe of her left shoe to push off her right one. The car was still moving; she didn’t allow herself to think about whether or not the driver would be able to tell what she was doing. With only a sock on, she was better able to feel where the topography of the inside of the trunk changed. Because her sneakers had ended up drenched in paint, she’d worn her clogs tonight and was grateful for the thick wooden sole. Taking a deep breath, she pulled back her still-shoed left foot and kicked as hard as she could using a heel-first jab kick that she’d been told could break three boards, though she’d never bothered to try.
Needles of pain shot up her leg, and she pursed her lips together as hard as she could to keep from crying out. Despite the pain, however, she’d felt the bracket give beneath her heel. Just a little. Just enough. She pulled back, braced herself and kicked again and again and again, ignoring the white-hot pain in her leg at each impact and the stars bursting behind her eyelids. With each kick, she felt a slight movement until finally her foot seemed to push through the trunk itself.
Cold air blew in and the red of the taillight cast a faint glow into that corner of the trunk. It wasn’t much, but it helped her to see a little bit. She used her foot to push the taillight out of its casing as the car slowed down, rounding a corner. She held her breath, waiting for the car to speed up, but it didn’t, and she started moving faster, trying to decide what she was going to do if the driver of this car opened the trunk. The car began to slow down even more. Sadie’s head nearly exploded when the car came to a stop. She scrunched up against the back end of the trunk so that she would be in a position to defend herself with a few solid kicks.
Someone outside the car screamed. Sadie froze. Another scream—it was a woman—and then yelling. Something hit the outside of the trunk not far from Sadie’s head, and she ducked automatically. It hit again, once in the same place, then again on the other side of the trunk. Sadie’s heart was in her throat. What was happening? It was obviously a fight. That meant someone out there had to be on her side, right?
Hope flared in her chest. Maybe someone had seen the dislodged taillight and put the pieces together!
“Sadie!” she heard someone yell. It startled her—someone she knew was out there!
“Help me!” she yelled back and began banging on the top of the trunk with her right foot. Her arms were against her chest, trying to minimize the pain-searing movements. “Help!”
Her screams were answered with another thud against the metal above her head, more rustling, and screams she couldn’t decipher. Blood pulsed in her ears. Who was out there?
And then it went quiet. For nearly ten seconds, Sadie couldn’t hear anything at all. Then there was a timid knock above her head.
“Sadie?” said a quiet voice. “Are you in there? Are you all right?”
Jane?
Chapter 38
Sadie didn’t answer right away. She didn’t know what to say. Jane? There wasn’t time to consider much of anything before she heard a click. The trunk popped open a fraction of an inch. She braced herself as the lid slowly lifted, revealing Jane, backlit by a set of headlights cutting through the fog. Jane wore a gray hoodie over her shirt, but it was askew and a light rain was causing the shoulders to darken. They were on a dark road without streetlights, both sides lined by woods.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Jane said.
“What happened?” Sadie gasped, not moving, staring as Jane wiped at the blood on her face. She wiped it on the leg of her jeans before reaching her hand into the trunk. “Wait,” Sadie said, trying to make sense of things as Jane grabbed her forearm. “What are you doing here? I—” The pain took her breath—and her words—away, and by the time Jane had pulled her into a sitting position, Sadie was gasping in an attempt to recover.
Sadie stared out of the open trunk as Jane pulled her forward by her bound hands, helping her get out. Jane’s little red car was parked behind them with the headlights pointed slightly to the right so that Sadie wasn’t blinded. She looked from the car to Jane’s face, where she could see a cut on her bottom lip. Her left eye was red and swelling quickly. “What are you doing here?”
Jane wiped at her chin again. She looked at the blood, and Sadie noted the lack of reaction she made to it. “We’ve got to get out of here,” Jane said again, fiddling with the cords around Sadie’s wrists. She pulled a knife from her pocket; Sadie flinched when Jane flipped out a three-inch blade and cut through the twine without a second thought. The knife disappeared back into Jane’s pocket as quickly as it had appeared. “He might come back. I’ll explain later.”
He? Panic washed over Sadie, and she hurried to comply with Jane’s attempts to get her out of the trunk even though the pain was overwhelming and she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. When she was finally free of the trunk and on her own two feet, Sadie realized her sock-covered foot had sunk into the mud spreading along the shoulder of the road. She put all her weight on her leg so she could lift her socked foot up, and a searing pain ran down her other leg. She looked behind her at the car that had held her captive. It was black. When she saw the Audi symbol, her eyebrows rose.
“Gabrielle’s car?”
“Yeah,” Jane said, allowing Sadie to lean heavily on her shoulder to get her balance.
“Who was driving?” Sadie asked, still looking at the car as she pictured Gabrielle slumped over her desk. Had the 911 call been enough?
Jane shook her head. “I d
on’t know who it was. He was wearing a black ski mask.”
“He drove with a mask on?” Sadie asked, imagining that would draw a lot of attention. As a conscientious driver herself, she knew that she’d certainly notice if someone in a black ski mask were behind the wheel of another car. “How do you know it was a man?”
“He was built like a man,” Jane said, sounding annoyed by the questions. “And maybe he pulled it on when he realized he was being followed, I don’t know.” She grabbed Sadie’s right arm and pulled her toward the red car, forcing Sadie to stumble into a walk. “We need to get of here.”
Sadie pulled against Jane’s grip. “Wait,” she said. “Let’s check the car. If you took him by surprise, he may have left something behind.” Even as she spoke, she looked at the thick woods beside the road. Chills ran down her spine as she imagined her kidnapper watching them from the trees.
“What?” Jane said. “No. There’s no time.”
“Exactly,” Sadie said, nodding and pushing away visions of the Headless Horseman galloping out of the woods. “No time but right now to figure out who is behind this. There’s two of us and only one of him. Cover me.” She took two quick and painful steps toward the car before Jane’s hand grabbed the back of her coat.
“Did you hear that?” Jane said, looking at the trees to their right.
“I didn’t hear any—”
“Shhh,” Jane said. She moved toward her car with careful steps, leading Sadie with her as she continued scanning the woods around them.
Sadie could hear the sound of other cars in the distance but couldn’t tell how close they were. Where were they anyway? How long had Jane been following her?
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Jane said, still tugging Sadie.
If they left the car, the man, whoever he was, would simply come back and drive away. The only male suspect they had was Mr. Forsberk; they had to verify if it was he who’d kidnapped Sadie.
“It will only take a minute to look through it,” Sadie said. She tried to break free of Jane’s grasp without being too abrupt, but Jane’s other hand had her coat pulled too tight for Sadie to wriggle out of it. “Jane,” she said sharply, her patience waning quickly. “Let go—I need to check the car. He could be connected to everything else—the missing piece we’ve been looking for. Why else would someone kidnap me? What if it’s Mr. Forsberk?”
“You’re not thinking logically,” Jane said, still pulling Sadie toward the car. “The drugs are obviously clouding your judgment.”
“I am thinking logically,” Sadie said. “My head is perfectly clear and—” She froze.
Jane yanked hard on Sadie’s coat, causing Sadie to stumble toward the car. Pain shot up her injured leg, and she reached out to catch herself on the hood of Jane’s car with her good arm.
Drugs? How would Jane know about that?
Sadie’s eyes darted to Jane’s windshield, spotted with misty rain. The windshield wipers were off, as was the engine. If Jane had pulled over behind Gabrielle’s car, why would she have taken the time to turn off the car? The hood was cold, which was equally confusing. The engine should still be warm.
Things started clicking in her mind, and she felt as though the ground were beginning to spin.
She thought of the forearms she’d grabbed at the gallery and grabbed Jane’s arm as though needing it to steady herself. Sadie’s hand nearly wrapped around Jane’s forearm, and even through the fabric of the hoodie, she could feel the slender strength. “Sorry,” she said quickly to cover what she’d done as she let go. “I can’t seem to get my balance.”
“It’s fine,” Jane said, still tugging Sadie toward the passenger side. “But we’ve got to get out of here.” Sadie went along with her. What choice did she have? She was being bombarded by other thoughts that made her head pulsate.
Jane had made it to Boston in record time after Pete told her Sadie was being questioned by the police yesterday.
Jane had been the one to discover the paranormal connection of the Wapple family that no one else had confirmed.
Jane had known Gabrielle would be at the gallery tonight and the when and where of Sadie and Gabrielle’s meeting.
Jane hadn’t wanted Sadie to go to the meeting.
The question of “Why?” darted in and out of the facts presenting themselves in her mind, but Sadie had to ignore it. Understanding the reason would not protect her right now, and she had no doubt she needed protection.
All her thoughts came together in the time it took for Jane to help Sadie into the passenger seat of her car. When Sadie realized what was happening, she panicked and put her hand on the door to push it open while Jane hurried to the driver’s side. But then what would she do? She was in the middle of nowhere, she was still woozy from whatever had rendered her unconscious, and she was banged up so much that trying to run away would be useless. The only sure way out of here was to go along with whatever Jane had planned.
Jane slid into the driver’s seat, where she started the car, turned it around, and began speeding away.
Sadie’s heart was thumping, and it was all she could do to keep breathing regularly. She couldn’t do anything about the shaking that had taken over her arms and legs. How was she going to get out of this? She could only trust her gut from here on out, and play this game as carefully as possible.
Chapter 39
Where are we going?” Sadie asked as Jane drove down the road at breakneck speed. Though the road was remote, there was a gas station within a mile. Sadie looked at it longingly as they passed. Jane’s car had been cold, which meant it had already been there, which meant Jane must have been driving Gabrielle’s Audi. Could she have brought her car to the location when Sadie was going into the city? Maybe Jane then caught a cab back to the city . . . but why? And how could she have fixed the tire and parked it in the woods and gotten back to the gallery by 10:00?
“We’re going to the police, of course,” Jane said, looking at Sadie quickly. The cut on Jane’s lip was still seeping, and Sadie had to fight the temptation to look for a napkin in the glove box. Had Jane injured herself to fake the attack? And if she’d really done all this, why would she take Sadie to the police? “You’ve been kidnapped, and the police need to know what happened,” Jane continued.
Sadie nodded. It was the right answer. But it made no sense. Possible motives came to Sadie’s mind—greed, revenge, profit, envy, power—but none of them quite fit. Why would Jane do any of this?
“Don’t you want to know what happened?” Jane asked as she turned onto a busier road. Sadie watched as the headlights coming toward them from the traffic traveling in the other direction appeared through the fog. She wondered how many of those travelers would save her if they knew she needed help. How could she possibly signal them?
“Yes,” Sadie said, barely able to get the words out but knowing she had to keep Jane talking. “I’m so confused.”
“Well, I waited for you to call me, but you never did, so I tried calling you and you didn’t answer. I called like three times—nothin’.” She was talking as though relaying a story about a party or concert she’d attended. Her eyes danced in the flickering lights of the oncoming traffic as the growing drip of blood slowly snaked its way down her chin.
Sadie couldn’t look at her and used her right arm to hold her left arm across her chest in an attempt to keep it immobilized. It throbbed, however, and she didn’t seem to have full movement in her wrist and hand, though it hurt too much to know for sure. She stared out the front windshield and tried to appear calm while Jane told her story. Sadie mentally reviewed what had happened over the last few days. Had Jane found the spare key and used it to get in and out of the house? Was it Jane who had set up the paint and placed the phone call that lured Sadie to Mrs. Wapple’s aid? Was it Jane’s voice in her bedroom and in the hallway of Mrs. Wapple’s house?
Sadie thought of the horrified look she’d seen on Jane’s face when she’d speculated that Mr. Forsberk could have bugged
Mrs. Wapple’s house. If he had, he might have heard something Jane hadn’t expected anyone to know. And yet Jane had carried that off perfectly too.
“So I drove to Germaine’s,” Jane said, “but you weren’t there. The waitress remembered you, though, and said no one had joined you. I knew you must have gone to the gallery so I went there just as Gabrielle’s car pulled out of the parking lot. But it wasn’t Gabrielle behind the wheel. I tried to call you again, but it went to voice mail so I followed Gabrielle’s car because I just knew something wasn’t right.” She turned to look at Sadie. “You know how sometimes you just know exactly what you’re supposed to do.”
Sadie nodded. She did know that feeling and sure wished she had it right now.
“Anyway, we kept getting further and further away from Boston, and I was really freaking out, and then he got off the interstate and I knew following him would be harder, but I kept the perfect distance and then he pulled over.” Jane was smiling over her recital of what Sadie knew hadn’t happened. It was hard not to point out the obvious holes in her story. Why not call the police? How could she have called Sadie three times before she even left to go up to Germaine’s?
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