Mariah Stewart - Cry Mercy

“Oh, for God's sake, you're such a fucking wimp,” the young man sneered. “What would you do if you didn't have me to do your dirty work for you?”

“Who are you kidding?” Ava stood with her hands on her hips. “You've loved every minute of this.”

“True enough, sister dear.” He pushed a shock of light hair back from his forehead. “Well, if you don't want to stick around for what comes next, I suggest you get on your way.”

Emme heard the sound of jiggling keys and footsteps that passed close by. She closed her eyes, not wanting it to become apparent that she was awake and alert.

“Hey, did you check to see if she's armed?” The boy called after her.

“No, but she isn't. I asked her on the phone if she had a gun, and she said she wasn't a cop and wouldn't come here carrying one anyway.”

“Rule number one: trust no one.” He squatted next to Emme and ran his hands over her body. It was all she could do not to flinch or cringe with disgust.

“Where are you taking her?” Ava was in the Mercedes, the motor running.

“Same place I took the others. Only this time, I think we'll go by sea rather than by land.”

“Where?”

“I thought you didn't want to know.”

“I'm just curious.”

“Remember that old Indian burial ground at the other end of the woods?”

“Where we used to look for artifacts? That's where you took them?”

There was no answer, but she could see his shadow. He was nodding his head, and Ava began to laugh.

“That's so gross. What if you dig up some old Indian bones? Aren't you afraid the spirits would come after you?”

“Well, since we never found any artifacts, I'm thinking there probably aren't any old bones, either. But hey, you never know,” he replied, and it occurred to Emme that he sounded amused by the prospect. She heard the car creep closer.

“What are you going to do if someone comes looking for her?” Ava asked.

“Looking for who? No one's been here all day except me and my sister.”

“What are you going to do with her car?”

“I'll take care of the car later. Now go, if you're going. Otherwise, feel free to watch. Maybe you should. You might like it.”

The car shot past where Emme lay on the ground, and a moment later, the boy Ava had called JJ. was leaning over her.

“No one's out that long from a little tap on the head,” he said, “so you can stop pretending, Emme Caldwell. I know you can hear me.”

When she didn't reply, he pushed a thumb in her eye and pulled the lid back. When she blinked several times to focus on him, he smiled.

“That's better. Now, come on, work with me here. Let's get you up on your feet.” He pulled her up by lifting under her arms. She let herself go limp, a dead weight, and he dropped her, letting her hit the ground like a sack. “I said, work with me, Miss Emme, unless you want me to have a go at you right here and now. I promise you, you won't like it once I begin, and once I do, I won't be able to stop. Now, when I lift you, I expect you to take your weight on your legs and feet… there you go. That wasn't so hard, was it?”

He leaned her up against the side of her car and pressed himself against her, his breath coming more quickly.

“You're hot, you know that? For an older woman, that is. Not quite what I'm used to, but beggers can't be choosers and all that.”

His teeth toyed with the tape at the side of her mouth, not enough to rip it off, but just enough to excite him.

Dear God , she thought, what will happen to Chloe if I don't make it home tonight? This cannot be the end of me .

She let him tease himself while she assessed the situation. What were the odds she could get him to remove the tape from her mouth? And once unfettered, where might her teeth do the most damage?

She felt herself being lifted, then hoisted over his shoulder. He began to walk without effort, as if her hundred and twenty pounds were of no consequence.

She tried to push her feet apart to test the strength of the tape that bound her ankles, but there was no give. She forced herself to take a few deep breaths. She'd have to keep her wits about her, and pray that she could keep herself alive long enough to figure out how to get out of this mess, or until Nick came looking for her. And he would look for her, of that she was certain. He knew where she was going, and he'd expected her to call once she got there. When he didn't hear from her, he'd know where to go. She could only pray he'd get there in time.

“We're taking a little boat ride, Miss Emme,” he told her, as they rounded the side of the house and headed toward the water. “I do hope you aren't one to get seasick.”

So much for the posse riding into town in time , she thought as he lifted her over the side of the boat and placed her on a seat near the motor.

“Now, in case you're thinking of escaping by throwing yourself over the side, I'd like to remind you that you'd find it real tough to swim with your hands and feet tied. But if you want to give it a go, hey, it's your life.” He laughed as if he'd made a great joke.

Swell , she thought. He thinks he's a comedian .

She watched him closely, hoping to find some sign of weakness, searching for some way to gain an advantage. She felt certain that his intention was to rape her before he killed her, which meant that at some point, he'd take the tape off her ankles and free her legs. Between now and then, she'd have to figure out the best way to use them.

He tried to start the motor, but it failed to turn over the first time. He cursed under his breath and tried again.

She searched the seating area for something she might be able to use to cut the tape binding her wrists, but there didn't seem to be anything useful. There was a metal strip along the line where the top of the hull met the inner liner of the boat. She studied it, inch by inch, hoping to find a spot where the strip might be raised up and the metal accessible, but the boat was well maintained and there was nothing loose nearby.

The motor coughed.

“Well, we know we have fuel,” he told her.

A few short bursts followed, then he pulled back on the throttle and the motor idled for a minute or so. He walked back to where she sat, his feet just far enough apart to give him balance, and for a split second, she thought about jamming her feet up between his legs, but she hadn't reacted quickly enough. He stepped to the side of the boat to untie the line, and pushed off from the dock.

He leaned over so that they were face-to-face. “Usually I just tell my passengers to hold on while we pull away and accelerate, but I guess we'll just have to depend on your sense of balance to keep you on that seat. I'll go nice and slow until you get the hang of it.”

She muttered behind the tape and he laughed. “I'll take that as a thank you.”

“Mmmmmmmmmm.”

“No need to be so effusive in your thanks, Miss Emme.” He started back to the wheel, then stopped and turned back to her.

“Once we get to where we're going, I'll take the tape off your mouth. As long as you promise not to scream.” He studied her face, and for a moment, his eyes bored into hers. She did not like what she saw.

He eased out of the lane and seemed to almost drift toward the center of the river before he pushed the throttle forward and sped up.

“Hold on,” he called back to her, laughing at her struggles to remain upright.

She scanned both sides of the river for signs of life, but there were none: no other boats, no houses on either side, just woods, for the most part. She sat upright, the roar of the motor in her ears, and silently pleaded for just one chance to take him down.

The black Mercedes shot out of the end of Gardner's drive like a ball from the mouth of a cannon. Nick slowed the Firebird to get a look at the driver, then craned his neck to try to catch the number on the plate, but the car was moving too fast. He made a left onto that same lane and drove through the pine-lined drive until the house came into view. Emme's car was parked to the right, and he pulled up behind it and came to a stop.