Game On

by Nancy Warren

  Lisa grinned at her. “I got honors.”

  * * *

  IT FELT STRANGE to wake up without Adam beside her the next day. Stranger still to realize she missed him.

  She’d barely known him a few weeks and he’d gone from reluctant client to protector to lover to—she had no idea when it had happened—the man she loved.

  Serena knew herself well enough to know she wasn’t a woman who fell in love easily. Or, unfortunately, out of it easily.

  She also knew Lisa was right. She needed to have a conversation with Adam. Needed to sort through her feelings and explain to him what she couldn’t really explain to herself. She was so used to being self-reliant. You didn’t need Lisa’s degree in psychology to understand that if a child couldn’t rely on her mother, she was always going to have a difficult time trusting. And Serena hadn’t slowly come to trust Adam by getting to know him and dating and exploring the normal boundaries of a relationship. She’d been thrown into this drama and forced to trust him.

  And he was a protector, of course. A man whose natural inclination to boss and control—even in a benign way—he had only strengthened by choosing policing as his career.

  Serena struggled to recapture the morning routine that had been so ingrained in her up until a few weeks ago.

  Making her formerly daily smoothie in the blender took a little longer since she had to think about the ingredients. She took an extra few seconds to locate her gym socks. How quickly Adam had inserted himself into her life and messed up her careful and extremely efficient routines.

  Once she’d pulled herself together, she headed down to her car. She might be stubborn and independent to a fault, but she tried not to be a stupid woman. She chose to believe the young woman’s tragic death right in this building had been a coincidence, not a message for her. But Adam could be right.

  So she called Mark, let him know she was heading for the gym and that he could expect her in the office at eight-thirty.

  “Why don’t I come and get you?” he suggested in his nondomineering way, which she appreciated.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “I’d like to stay on the line with you until you get into your car, if that’s all right.”

  “I was hoping you would.”

  She lost the signal briefly in the elevator, was able to pick it up again in the lobby and chatted to him as she scanned the garage, checked that there was no one hiding in her car.

  She got in, fired up the engine, pulled out of the parking garage.

  “Everything’s fine, Mark. I’ll see you at the office.”

  “See you then.”

  She pulled up to the gym and as she emerged from her car, a familiar figure in black pants and a shirt emblazoned with the gym’s logo jogged out of the side door. He ran up to her, a gym bag thrown over his shoulder.

  “Glad I caught you,” Tim said, looking somewhat less like his usual smiling, happy self. “I don’t think you should go in there.”

  An uncomfortable feeling began in the pit of her stomach. Part dread, part irritation. Was there no place she could be free from interfering, overprotective men? “Why not?”

  “It’s Stan. He’s been asking a lot of questions about you. Since he got back from Poland, he’s been acting weird.”

  “Weird? What kind of weird?” Psycho-killer stalker weird?

  “I can’t really explain it. Just a feeling I get.”

  Since she’d never confided in her personal trainer about the creepy texts and emails, she had to assume Stanley was, in fact, acting strange and it would be foolish to go into that gym.

  “Damn it,” she said, half to herself. “I was really looking forward to my workout today. Got some stress I need to relieve.”

  “I hear you.” He paused. Seemed to consider. “Tell you what. I’m not really supposed to do this, but since you’re a good client, I’m going to tell you about a private gym I train people in. I’m on my way there now. Why don’t you come, check it out. You can do your workout without Stan dribbling in his shorts and, if you like the place, you might want to join.”

  “Is it far? I need to be back in my office by eight-thirty.”

  “No. Not far. I can give you a lift. Drop you back here at eight-fifteen.”

  “Um...” She didn’t like driving with other people. She preferred taking her own car. Control issues, Lisa would probably diagnose.

  As though reading her mind, he said, “Or we can take your car. You can drop me back here. Parking’s a bit dodgy at the other gym. We’re working on getting it sorted.” He walked around to her passenger side as he talked. Then looked back.

  “Better get a move on. Looks like Stanley’s on his way out here.”

  Sure enough, when she glanced back at the gym, a familiar squat figure was watching her out of the window. A wash of horror grabbed at her as she recalled the texts, the emails and those awful faces on her door and in her bed.

  The door opened.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said, popping the locks. She jumped into the driver’s seat and Tim settled himself in the passenger side. Stanley emerged from the gym and stared after her as she pulled out into traffic.

  She could feel him watching her until she was out of sight.

  20

  TIM DIRECTED AND she drove, only half paying attention to where they were going. She was thinking she should call Adam and let him know that Stanley was behaving so oddly that other people were starting to notice.

  “I’m excited to show you the place,” Tim said, intruding on her thoughts.

  She decided to put Adam, Stanley and the rest of it out of her mind and enjoy her workout. “I didn’t know you had a private gym,” she said, moving automatically into business mode. “What’s your business model?”

  “My training is very private.”

  “Okay. You mean like elite individuals?”

  “Something like that.” He sounded as though he was amused. She glanced over at him as the first flutter of unease flickered across her belly. She’d told Mark she was on her way to the gym, but with the rush to get away from Stanley she hadn’t updated him on her plans. And here she was alone with a man she didn’t know all that well.

  Then she scoffed at her own foolishness. That was what happened when you let fear take hold. Tim was her personal trainer. They’d worked together for more than a year.

  She followed his directions, turning away toward an industrial area and in the opposite direction to her office. “I thought you said it was close by?”

  “It is. Another couple of minutes. I really value your opinion. I’ll give you a quick training session and you can try out the equipment. See what you think.”

  “All right.”

  Since they were almost there, she kept going, but she realized that if he hadn’t made her so jumpy about Stanley, what she should have done was to go into the gym. There were plenty of people around. She could have made sure someone walked her back to her car.

  The gym was more than five extra minutes of driving, by which time she’d already decided it was too far for her to take seriously. And she was going to have to talk to Tim about the ethics of poaching clients from one employer while setting up his own business. Not cool.

  As they pulled into a parking lot in front of a squat cement building he said, “Thanks for doing this.” He flashed her his big charming smile. “I’m so excited to show you the space. Get your opinion.”

  And because he’d been a good trainer and given her lots of tips between sessions, she said, “No problem. I need to call the office and tell them where I am and that I’ll be back a bit late.”

  “Sure.”

  As she picked up the phone, he grabbed her arm. “Quick, get inside.” He sounded urgent.

  “What?”

&n
bsp; “Stanley. He must have followed us here. No, don’t look. I don’t think he’s seen you.” And he pulled her urgently toward the door, putting his big body between her and the street.

  “But—” She tried to pull away. She was so sick of men telling her what to do. “He’ll see my car.”

  “Come on.”

  “No.” She’d had it. “I’m calling the police.”

  He still had her cell phone hand clasped tightly in his and the keys to his gym in the other. He had the door opened and shoved them both through the doorway before slamming the door behind them and locking it.

  She felt irritable, shaken up and oddly frightened. Adam. She needed to call Adam.

  Even as she had the thought, she felt the phone grabbed out of her hand. She gave a hiss of alarm and annoyance. “What are you doing?”

  “The way I figure it, we both train people. You train them to conquer fear. I train them to explore every drop of it.”

  His voice was so odd, his words so bizarre that she turned her head sharply to look at him.

  And what she saw made her heart drop to the soles of her feet. In that second he let his mask slip and she saw behind the charming, easygoing Aussie athlete/trainer to the monster within.

  “Oh, my God,” she said. “It’s you.”

  “Yes, my darling. And it’s taken you a bloody long time to work it out. I’m surprised at you. A little disappointed. I thought you were smart.” He shook his head sadly. “But you’re not smart at all. Never mind. You can still experience fear. And pain. And we’re going to have some fun, you and I, forcing you to depths of horror you’ve never even imagined.”

  She swallowed. Refused to speak until she was fairly sure there’d be no tremor in her voice. “Why?”

  “Why what? Why the personal project? Or why you?”

  “Why...both?” If she kept him talking, she’d have a little more time to think.

  He chuckled. Chucked her under the chin as though she were a child. She turned her head away, revolted by his touch. “You think you’re going to buy time and keep me talking? Like in the movies, until the cavalry gets here? News flash, girlie. Cavalry isn’t coming. Nobody knows where you are.”

  “Stanley saw us leave together,” she reminded him.

  “Stanley,” he snorted. “You’ll be seeing him again. Sooner than you think. Poor old Stan. His horrible infantile crush on you made my work so much easier. A little later you’ll call him. Tell him you’re stranded. Ask him to meet you here. He’ll come because of that horrible crush of his.” He shook his head. “Pathetic.”

  “No,” she said. “I won’t.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You will. A couple of hours from now, you’ll do anything I ask you to. Anything at all. Pain and fear are remarkable motivators. I’ve made quite a study.” He paused. Glanced around. “When Stanley gets here, I’ll let him watch the last bit. He deserves at least that much. And when you’re dead—I hope you’ve understood by now that by nightfall, midnight if you’re really strong, you’ll be dead—poor old Stan, having murdered you, will naturally kill himself. Nice easy case that even your cop boyfriend could solve.”

  Her body jerked at that. “I don’t have a cop boyfriend.”

  “Don’t play stupid. It doesn’t suit you. Did you think I didn’t laugh myself silly watching you? You had a cop living in and a rent-a-cop following you at work. I knew the fear was already starting to work. I probably wouldn’t have sent you any more messages for a while anyway, simply to watch you all squirm. But Stan went out of the country, so obviously the game had to pause until he returned. Really, his timing couldn’t have been better.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “The why?” He shrugged. “It’s a hobby, I suppose. A personal study project. To take someone on this journey is extraordinary. To watch them fight for life and then finally succumb is amazing. Powerful stuff. It’s so much better than sex.”

  “And why me? What have I ever done that you would hate me so much?”

  “It’s not about hate, darling. You know that. It’s about power. You have it. You wield it so effortlessly, telling people how to live without fear. How to build their businesses and fix their sorry inner selves and overcome abuse and blah, blah, blah. When you came to me for training, I knew that on some level you were offering yourself to me. A sacrifice.”

  “All I wanted was stronger abs and better cardio,” she muttered.

  * * *

  ADAM SLEPT LIKE CRAP. He had dreams he didn’t want to remember and the rest of the time he brooded. How had he got into this mess? He tried to protect a woman, he fell in love with her and she dumped him.

  He was nothing but a cliché.

  And he’d stay dumped. No problem there. If she didn’t want him, that was fine. But he wouldn’t leave Serena in danger. He couldn’t.

  He made a very large pot of very strong coffee. Gulped down a couple of mugs of the stuff while he showered and shaved. He checked his email. Got one that made him swear viciously and grab his car keys. He got into his car. Called Joey on the way.

  “What?” Joey didn’t like early calls. He didn’t like mornings.

  “Stanley Wozniak did not go to Poland.”

  “What?”

  “I did some checking. Found out this morning. He wasn’t in Poland for those two weeks.”

  “Where the hell was he?”

  “He was in Mexico. In one of those kinky adult resorts. Holiday camp for perverts.”

  “Okay, so he lied. Maybe he didn’t want people knowing he likes to hang around the pool watching topless girls play water polo or whatever the hell they do at those places. Doesn’t mean he sent Serena those messages.”

  “I’m on my way to Serena’s gym. She works out this time of day.”

  “Adam,” the tired voice reminded him, “she dumped your ass. She doesn’t want you stalking her.”

  “Wozniak is the key to this. He has to be,” Adam snapped, refusing to get into the stalking issue. He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be in the office by eight-thirty.”

  “Do not harass him. Do you hear me? We do not need a harassment suit.”

  Adam pulled up to the gym. Play it cool, he reminded himself as he got out of the car. She’d be there.

  All he was going to do was make his presence obvious. Let Stanley the Stalker know that he was under intense supervision.

  He walked into the gym. Flashed his shield at the front desk. Said he’d come to see someone. The young woman at the front waved him through with a nervous smile.

  He entered the main gym area. A wall of mirrors on one side multiplied the sweating bodies of indoor cyclists, the odd glide of the elliptical trainer, treadmill runners and walkers. On the other side of the long room a wall of windows reminded the patrons of what they could be doing. Exercising outside. For free.

  Serena wasn’t in her usual spot. He scanned the full row and didn’t spot her.

  Stanley. Where was Stanley? He stalked down between the rows of machines and didn’t see either of them. Anxiety began to gnaw at his gut but he forced himself to stay calm.

  Got to the mat area where she liked to stretch. Beside that was the weight room. Serena was nowhere to be found but he saw Stanley huffing and red-faced as he attempted biceps curls with dumbbells that were clearly too heavy for him.

  He appeared miserable and in pain as Adam approached. When he spotted him, Stanley lowered the weights.

  “Where’s Serena?”

  “She went off with that guy.” He shook his head. “I don’t like it. I went out to try and stop her, but she drove her car like a bat from Hades.”

  “What guy?”

  “The trainer. I see the way he looks at her when she doesn’t see. It’s not right. I wanted to tell her not to—”<
br />
  “What trainer?” he yelled.

  “The Australian. His name is Tim Patterson.”

  “You said she went off with him?”

  Stanley nodded, looking even more miserable.

  “What time was this?”

  “Maybe thirty minutes. I do extra workout. I wait for them to come back.”

  “Did she say where she was going?”

  “She never even came inside. He went out to meet her. With a bag. They had some talk and then he got into her car and they drove away.”

  “It was her car? You’re sure?”

  “Yes. She was driving.”

  “Which way did they go when they pulled out of the lot?”

  “They turned left.”

  “Anything else you noticed? Anything at all?”

  “Yes. When I wave to her to stop, she pretend not to see me.”

  21

  HE TRIED HER home and her cell. Both went to voice mail. Hearing her calm, beautiful voice on the message hurt him somewhere deep inside. “I’m coming for you, Serena,” he said aloud. “Hang on. I’m coming.

  “Stan,” he said, “I need you to do something for Serena. Find a picture of the trainer. His employee pass, a poster with his picture on it, something. Scan it and send it to these two addresses. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He gave him a card and scribbled Joey’s and Max’s email addresses onto it.

  Then he ran outside to his car. Adam’s next call wasn’t to his fellow cops. It was to Max. “Serena’s been taken.”

  “Shit. When?”

  “Thirty to forty minutes ago. From her gym.”

  “Do we know who has her?”

  “An Australian. Her personal trainer at the gym. Goes by the name Tim Patterson. Probably fake.”

  “Right. What do you need from me?”

  “Backup. I’m getting a guy to email you a photograph of Patterson. See what you can find out.”

  “You got it.”

  Next he called Joey. Kept his voice cool. But every time he said it, the truth was worse. “He’s taken her,” he said. “Not Stanley Wozniak. Repeat, not Stanley Wozniak. The man we’re looking for is an Australian personal trainer going by the name Tim Patterson.”