“LOOK, I CAN EXPLAIN,”Cynthia protested for about the fifth time as she was forced at gunpoint into thewarehouse.
She was pleased to find her voice steady, but then she’d already moved beyond the first panicky fear to a surreal feeling that this couldn’t possibly be happening. No way was the man with the cold eyes and colder looking gun the one who reminded her of a trusted anchorman, and no way were they going to shoot her in cold blood. Things like that only happened in movies…didn’tthey?
Now that she had confirmed Harrison’s involvement in the drug smuggling and money laundering operation, she began to wonder about his “vacation” in Hong Kong. No one had received so much as a postcard from the previous accountant. Had he ended his tenure at Oceanic staring at a deadly weapon just as she was doing? A shudder rippled throughher.
As though he’d read her mind, Doug Ormond asked, “Did Harrison put you on tous?”
“Harrison? Do you mean the man who held my position beforeme?”
“Yeah, Harrison. Dude with the expensive habit and the sneakyfingers.”
Her stomach felt a little odd, like she might be coming down with something. “I’m not sure I follow. I thought Harrison was in HongKong.”
It was Neville who answered her. “He was, for a day or so, until some friends of ours caught up with him.” He mimed with hisgun.
“Dead?” shesqueaked.
“I’m afraid so, darling. Everybody who crosses us winds up dead.” He glanced at her significantly. “But in your case that won’t happen right away.” He motioned to Eddie. “Tie herup.”
“Whatwith?”
Cyn scanned the area for any kind of weapon, any means of escape, but there didn’t seem to be any. On the bright side, she couldn’t see anything suitable for tying people up, either. The boxes were all taped, the wooden crates nailed; there was some kind of a chain thing on one of the machines, but it looked like it would be a lot of work to get itoff.
Exasperated, Neville passed the gun over to Doug Ormond. “Waithere.”
Once he’d gone, Cynthia attempted a confident smile. “Hey, guys, I know Neville’s under a lot of stress right now. Why don’t you just turn your backs for a few minutes, I’ll slip out and we can all pretend this neverhappened?”
“Shut up,” saidOrmond.
Well, it had been worth a shot. While they waited in silence, she had time to wish she’d taken boxing or karate to keep in shape. What good was deep-water aerobics when your life was on theline?
Around her, piles of boxes and sacks loomed, hulking and menacing. The cement was cold and hard through her thin-soled shoes. But not as cold and hard as the knowledge that her predecessor had been shot dead. Even as her mind tried to focus on that one horrible fact, she skittered away from it. She couldn’t afford to panic; she had tothink.
And all she could think about was how much she wished she’d listened to Jake when he’d told her to stay away from this place. At least she could count on him to search Oceanic when she disappeared. They’d find something. Agnes would remember her asking about Dominic Torreo—that was the only clue Jake would need. It was definitely cold comfort, but at least she felt her death would be avenged along withHank’s.
She had another futile wish. She wished she could tell Jake she loved him before it was toolate.
But it seemed like too late was on its way when the heavy doors opened and Neville Percivald strolled in—her leather bag under one arm, a pair of handcuffs swinging from theother.
At the sight of the handcuffs, she gulped. It was one thing to be helpless when in bed with a man like Jake, quite another to be helpless in front of the three evilstooges.
She struggled, twisting and scratching, when Neville grabbed hold of her. He grunted when she managed to kick him in the shin, and if Eddie hadn’t joined in, she really felt she might have got away. But the two of them managed to cuff her right arm to a waterpipe.
She glared at them both and raised her chin, determined not to give in to the panic squeezing her chest. Common sense told her they weren’t going to shoot her right there in the warehouse, and she still had one fist and two feet left to defendherself.
That and her wits. Which she’d better startusing.
There was a strange moment, sort of like an awkward lull in dinner-table conversation, when none of them seemed to know what to do next. Ormond was still pointing the gun her way, his arm beginning to quiver from holding it up for solong.
Neville stared at her warily, standing out of kicking range. “I should have brought rope,” he grumbled. “I think the best thing is to take her to myplace.”
The metal handcuff clinked angrily against the metal pipe as she yanked hard. She knew the kind of stuff he was into. If he thought he was going to strip her naked and do disgusting things to her, he had another thinkcoming.
“I don’t know.” Eddie shuffled his feet. “I don’t mind taking somebody out, but I don’t want to get involved in any of that kinky stuff ofyours.”
“Yeah.” Ormond jumped in. “Let’s just do it quick and clean.” Since he was the one with the gun, she had to force herself not to shut her eyes andcower.
“I saw her put something in here,” Neville said, picking up her bag and upending it over the coffee-break table a few feet in front ofher.
