Someone rustled around with the bag. Finally, I was dragged out by my feet. I laid on the rocky ground, coughing up the dust that swirled in the air. A gravel driveway, I noted. Lots of trees around me.
And a familiar smell.
The smell of the swamp.
The light, however dim, hit my pupils, and I squinted up.
Jones’ leering face came into view.
“Welcome home, Gabby St. Claire. Your final home, for that matter. This place is the last one you’ll ever have a memory of.”
Then he rammed something across my head.
Everything went black.
***
I opened my eyes. Blinked several times. Tried to see through the darkness around me.
Everything flashed back to me.
Jones.
The hospital.
The drive here.
His threat that I’d die.
Then there was Riley, the fact that his parents were indeed blinded by their own bias toward this doctor, and I might not be there to stop them.
The police thought Jones was dead. Knowing Jones, he’d left no evidence behind at the hospital. No one would find me here.
A cry escaped—the sound desperate, almost hollow.
“It’s going to be okay,” someone said above me.
I tensed. That voice wasn’t Jones. But whose was it? It was a woman . . .
Slowly, a face came into focus.
I pulled myself up, ignoring the grit under my fingers as they touched the floor, and gaped at . . . Juliette Barnes.
I licked my lips. They felt dry and cracked. The duct tape was gone and had apparently taken off a couple layers of skin.
“I’d say don’t be scared, but I think both of us know that’s impossible right now.”
My gaze darted through the room. It was dark. How long had I been out?
There were no windows, I realized. No closets. Just a dirty tile floor. A couple of blankets and a pillow were lumped in one corner.
“Where are we?” I whispered.
Juliette shook her head. “I have no idea. In the middle of nowhere. I haven’t seen daylight in days.”
I pulled my knees to my chest, my mind still groggy. “I’m Gabby.”
Juliette nodded. “I know. You’re engaged to Riley.”
“And you’re Juliette, the secret woman in his life.”
Juliette’s eyes widened. “Oh, Gabby. I have so much to tell you.”
Before she could say anything else, footsteps pounded outside the door. I braced myself for what was to come next.
CHAPTER 22
The door swung open and Jones stood there, an evil glimmer in his eyes. He stepped inside. He wore muddy boots, a flannel shirt over his undershirt, and jeans that sagged at his hips.
“You’re awake.” He nodded down at me, for a moment, sounding like a doctor checking on a patient. “I see the two of you have met. Cozy, huh?” He grinned.
I scowled back at him.
“Don’t get too chummy,” he continued. “Your days are numbered.”
“You’re the one who should be worried, if you ask me.” I don’t know where my words had come from, nor did I know how much trouble they were going to get me in. But seeing Jones had reignited the fight in me.
We’d battled before. I wasn’t about to let him win here. Not without a fight.
He leaned down and smoothed my hair, which I could only assume was a frizzy mess right now. “Oh, Gabby. So brave. So strong. So admired.”
I tried to jerk away from him, but his hand reached down. His fingers wrapped around my throat. My airway constricted. Slowly, he pulled me to my feet, still choking me.
I gasped for air. I tried to claw at him. Tried to pry his hands from around my neck.
He lifted me off my feet. I kicked, but he pressed me against the wall. My head hit the plaster behind me with a dull thud.
I didn’t want to show my fear. But I didn’t know how to hide it. Tears pooled in my eyes as my lungs screamed for oxygen.
“I will break you,” he snarled.
He sneered at me, those soulless eyes of his glaring up at me with satisfaction. He lived for this, I realized. He lived to show others the power he could have in their lives.
I wanted to show defiance, but my life force was fading. I wanted to spit in his face or kick him hard or claw out his eyeballs. I could do nothing but silently beg for air.
My hands tugged at his hand as it encircled my throat. Where did he get this strength? Torturing others seemed to give him bursts of adrenaline that allowed him to do the unthinkable.
My brain kicked into gear, for just a moment. I had to try one last thing before my last breath left me.
I tried to raise my knee, to push Jones away.
Instead, my leg fell limply below me, like a ragdoll. My body had taken over. Primal instinct kicked in. I fought for air, to do whatever was necessary to stay alive and right now that meant I had to breathe.
The last thing I remembered before I passed out was the smile on Jones’ face.
***
I woke up to cold water splashing me in the face. I sputtered, gasped, tried to pull myself back.
A bucket came into view. Jones pushed my head inside. I gulped water into my windpipe before he finally pulled me back up.
I tried to take a breath, but couldn’t. Instead, I sputtered, choked, gurgled.
“Maybe you’ll learn not to be so mouthy now.” He shoved me into the bucket one last time before taking a step away. “Hope you enjoyed that water. That’s all you’ll be getting for a while.”
I continued to cough the water out of my lungs as Jones left the room. I heard the lock click in place. More water burbled out of me as my face pressed against the ground.
I braced my palms on the floor on both sides of me, trying to regain control of my body. I managed to push myself two inches up from the ground before collapsing again.
As soon as he was gone, Juliette scooted over to me. “We can’t talk back. He gets mad. Just act compliant.”
“Easier said than done,” I croaked, still breathing deeply, trying to get a good dose of air into my lungs.
“He’ll force it from you. You might as well just do it.”
I glanced up at her, still gulping in deep breaths. “That doesn’t sound like the fighter everyone described you as.”
She shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve ever had to fight for my life.”
That’s when I noticed the bruises on her face. Her busted lip. The way she cradled her arm.
“How’d he get you?” I finally pushed myself upright and wiped my face with the edge of my T-shirt.
She cringed and pulled her knees up closer to her chest. “He snuck into my apartment while I was sleeping. I think he got the key from the superintendent somehow. I didn’t even hear a thing.”
“He never leaves any evidence as to how he got in.”
“He tasered me, knocked me out, and I woke up here.” She shivered. “How’d he get you?”
“Similar, only I was in the hospital. Not as a patient. Visiting Riley.” I crawled back to the wall and leaned against it, my throat still burning. Drops of water still gurgled in my throat with every breath.
I paused, listening. I heard a car start and then tires against gravel. “He’s leaving.”
“He’ll be back.”
“Who’s he working with?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t know he was working with anyone.”
“You haven’t seen anyone else here?”
She shook her head again.
“But someone else was driving the car when I was abducted.”
“I haven’t seen anyone.”
I stood, my legs feeling weak. “Have you checked this room? Is there a way out?”
“No windows and only one door. You tell me.”
I shook the door.
“It’s tight. I tried that already. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Jones said that even if I were to esc
ape, the swamp would kill me.”
“I think I’d take my chances.” I rattled the door again. It was definitely locked. I might be able to pick it, if I had some sort of tool to use.
I turned and surveyed the room. It was probably eight feet by eight feet. But no windows? No closets? Where were we?
I remembered the other cabin, the one where Riley and I had found Jones a couple of weeks ago. I remembered that the women had been kept in the attic. There’d been no AC, and outside had been extremely hot.
I didn’t think this was an attic. The roof wasn’t angled enough. The floor felt solid, like concrete was beneath it. I felt certain we were on the first floor.
My gaze rested on the bucket. I bent down and worked the handle. If I could get it off, I might be able to use the thin metal to unlock the door. In the least, I could use it as a weapon.
“There’s a storm coming, you know,” I told Juliette. “The swamp isn’t exactly where I want to be when a hurricane comes through. Too many trees. Too much water.”
“When’s the storm supposed to hit?”
I shrugged, still wrestling with the metal. “I should have paid more attention to the news. I had other things on my mind. I think it’s on Monday, though.”
“That’s only two days.”
“Yeah, I know.” One side of the handle broke free. I worked carefully, not wanting to spill any water. I didn’t know how clean the liquid was or where it had come from. But I also didn’t know when Jones would be back. If worst came to worst, we might have to drink from this bucket. Our lives could depend on it.
Finally, the other side of the handle broke free. I didn’t want to waste any time. Using the edge of the bucket, I bent back the loops at the end of the handle. At last, one end was straight enough that it might work in the lock. I hurried toward the metal and inserted the makeshift key.
I turned it, trying to find that magic spot that would make the lock click and the door open. Juliette crawled beside me and watched.
I twisted the metal, lifted it up and then down, moved it from side to side. Nothing.
“Do you want me to try?” Juliette asked.
I nodded. “Have at it.”
I sat back, wishing I’d taken locksmith classes somewhere along the way.
Juliette tried but gave up after several minutes. “That’s harder than they make it look on TV.”
I nodded. “Those aren’t ordinary bedroom door locks either. I used to be able to pick the locks in my brother’s bedroom using the metal twist tool off the processed meat can.”
Juliette smiled. “I remember those. I used to save them, pretend like they were keys.” Her smile quickly slipped. “What now?”
I nibbled on my bottom lip and tasted blood there. “I’m not sure. I’ll try the lock again in a minute. Otherwise, we think of a plan.”
“I’m going to keep praying,” Juliette announced.
I nodded. “Do that. I will too. We’re going to need all the help we can get right now.”
***
Juliette stared at me from the adjacent wall. She looked haggard. Her hair was stringy, her face was dirty, her clothes soiled.
“How is he?” she whispered. “I haven’t heard any updates since I was abducted.”
“Riley?” I questioned.
She nodded. “Yeah, Riley.”
“It’s a mess.” I didn’t know how much to say. I mean, I still wasn’t sure who Juliette had been to Riley. There was a part of me that wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “He’s still in a medically induced coma.”
“I can’t believe this happened to him.”
“Me neither. I need to be there to speak for him, to watch out for him.” I let my hands fall to the side, signifying the futility of the mess around me, of being locked in a shack in the swamp with a serial killer as my only lifeline. “And then this. What a mess.”
“I’ve been praying. It’s all I’ve been doing.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Trying to convert Jones?”
She gave me a questioning look.
“Your reputation precedes you.”
“I told him I was praying for his soul. He slapped me and told me he didn’t have a soul.”
I shuddered. “I believe him.”
Juliette watched me for long enough that I fidgeted. “You’re just like I thought you’d be.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re spunky and pretty and smart. Just like Riley said.”
This time, at the mention of Riley, I scowled. She was talking about him like they were such good friends. I knew I should dive in and ask her all of the hard questions. But I’d already suffered a lot of tragedies recently. Did I really want to add a new one to my list?
“Why didn’t Riley ever mention you?” I asked.
She frowned. “I don’t know for sure why Riley never brought me up. I can only guess.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“It wasn’t like that, Gabby.”
My throat burned. This time, it wasn’t because Jones had tried to crush my windpipe. No, this time it was because my emotions felt more powerful than my willpower. “What was it like then?”
Her gaze lingered on her hands, which rested on her knees in front of her. “We go way back. He was friends with my brother.”
“Who was your brother?”
“His name was Scoggins.”
Understanding washed over me with enough force that I sucked in a deep breath. Scoggins had been killed in a drunk driving accident. Riley had been in the car with him—not driving, but Riley had still felt responsible, like he should have stopped his friend from getting behind the wheel.
“I was Scoggins’ little sister. He was my hero. Riley too. I had a rough time after my brother died.”
“I’m sorry.” Some of the details started falling in place.
She shook her head. “I actually tried to commit suicide a couple of times in the aftermath of my brother’s death.” She didn’t say it with shame, nor did she say it with pride. She spoke matter-of-factly.
I blinked. I never imagined those words coming out of her mouth. In my mind, she’d been the perfect Christian. More and more, I was starting to realize that there wasn’t such a thing as a perfect Christian, no matter how much I kept assuming there was.
“It’s true. My parents were drunks—very classy drunks, but drunks all the same. They were never around. As soon as I left for college, they divorced. My mom got remarried and started a new family. My dad moved to Dubai, of all places. He’s been climbing the corporate ladder since then. I felt like they both moved on without me. Scoggins was all I had.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated.
“My life spiraled out of control. I was taking prescription drugs like they were candy, doing anything to numb the pain. Riley and I lost touch. He was dealing with his grief in his own way too, I guess. I think every time he saw me, he remembered his failures. In his mind, at least.”
“What changed? How long have you guys been in touch?”
“He sent me a letter a year or so after the accident. He said he was trying to turn his life around. He apologized again for the accident and for my loss. I thought that would be the end of it.”
“But . . .”
“Then almost a year ago, I got a job out here. When I almost died from one of those drug overdoses, I had a huge wake up call. I turned my life around, so much that I started calling myself Juliette instead of Angie.”
“Kind of like from Saul to Paul?”
She nodded. “Yeah, exactly like that. I had a new start and a new outlook. After I moved here, I found Riley’s email address and let him know I was in town. We met for coffee. He told me that being around you had made him think of me.”
I frowned, unsure of the meaning of those words.
She shook her head. “No, not like that. It’s just that I had a bad family life. I was struggling. He said he’d seen you struggling with your mom’s death and your dad’s bad decisions. It made him
realize that he should have tried harder to be there for me. He didn’t know about my suicide attempts.”
“But you told him?”
“I’d never told any of my friends. It was my dirty little secret, you know? Everyone thought I had it together. Finally, things really were getting better. I had my new job. I started going to church, and I really started turning around, you know?” She frowned. “Then I got fired from GCI. I decided to fight for what I believed in.”
“What did Riley say about that?”
“He said he wasn’t sure I had a case. He agreed to take it on, I think, just because it was me. Maybe he’d started feeling guilty, like he owed me something.”
Maybe that’s where Riley had thought of me. Wasn’t that my life story? Feeling guilty and trying to make up for not only my own mistakes, but the mistakes of others?
“I still don’t understand why Riley didn’t tell me about you. It doesn’t make sense to me. I thought we shared everything.” I hated how hurt had crept into my voice.
“Scoggins’ death was a very painful part of Riley’s life. I reminded him of that. You’ve got to believe me, Gabby. Riley is like my big brother. That’s all we were. Friends.”
I shook my head. “If you were just friends, he would have told me about you.”
“I can’t speak for him or his actions, but no lines were ever crossed. I promise you, Gabby.”
CHAPTER 23
Somehow, I’d fallen asleep. I don’t know when it happened or how it happened. But I woke up with a cold sweat across my brow.
The room came into focus. It was even darker than it had been earlier.
Juliette slept with her head against the wall in a corner. She’d pulled a blanket over her legs.
It was eerily still in the house, and I wondered if Jones had returned.
I didn’t remember hearing anything, and I felt like I would have woken up to the rumble of car tires on the gravel or to the slamming front door or to the man’s boots plodding across the floor.
If he wasn’t here, then where would he have gone? What was he up to? Was he searching for his next victim? Maybe he was busy planting clues that would lead the police astray.
To Love, Honor, and Perish Page 18