Chapter 49
Forty-Nine
J ane’s head throbbed as she tried to open her eyes, but her lids felt like lead. They refused to obey. Her mind struggled to remember what happened, but each effort was met with a sharp pain in her skull and a wave of nausea.
In the background she heard a murmur, a voice that sounded muffled as if she were underwater. Jane tried to move, but her arms were numb and bound tightly behind her back. Panic surged through her. Where was she? The room smelled musty and something else.
The voice grew louder and more familiar. Victor. Who was he talking to?
“I’ll find the damn ledger,” he said. “She’s going to break. They always do.”
Who was going to break? Her?
What ledger? Her sluggish brain tried to piece together the conversation.
“I know it’s time-sensitive,” Victor continued. “I’ll get the information from her one way or another.”
Focus, Jane.
She pushed through the fog. She had to get away from Victor. He was evil.
The world tilted as someone abruptly grabbed her and hauled her upright, their rough hands digging into her arms. Her eyes fluttered open, saw the evil in Victor’s eyes, and she squeezed them shut.
“Oh, Janey, you can’t hide,” he whispered. His breath felt hot against her skin, and her stomach churned.
She had to be strong, to think of an escape—just as soon as she could open her eyes long enough to focus.
“What do you want from me?” Jane hated how her voice trembled. She’d only written about violence like this, never experienced it.
“I want the ledger,” Victor said. “Thornton thought he was so clever teasing me about hiding it in the barn, telling me that I’d never find it.” He chuckled. “Look where that got him.”
She felt a breeze as Victor left her side. She gingerly opened her eyes and glanced around. Where the hell was she? It looked like a small cabin. She could see pine trees out the window and rain falling.
The walls were made of exposed logs. There was a pot-bellied stove in one corner, and a couple of armchairs and a small sofa were arranged around it. The lights were on, so it had electricity.
In the corner was a small kitchen with a wooden table topped with papers and two chairs. It looked like there was just one door in the front. She was tied in a chair in the middle of what could have been a dining room at one point. This must be Victor’s lair, but where exactly was it? Would Ethan be able to find her?
Victor sat on the sofa reading a piece of paper.
She struggled against her bindings, but her wrists were bound tight. Her stomach growled, but she had a feeling Victor wasn’t serving lunch. Or was it dinnertime? How long had she been out? Since she didn’t know where this ledger was, Jane figured there would be no last meal. She wished Ethan would hurry and find her.
The phone rang again, and Victor answered it. “Yeah. No. They’ll be here soon, and we’ll deal with the problem.” He hung up and winked at her.
Oh God. Who will be coming soon?
Jane had a funny feeling she was the problem that was going to be dealt with. This was going from bad to worse. There was no way out. Even if she could get free with only one door, she’d have to go through Victor. That wasn’t happening.
The door burst open. Maggie Thornton rushed in, her voice high-pitched and frantic.
“Victor,” she said. “The sheriff is looking for you. You need to…”
She stopped short, her eyes widening in shock when she saw Jane tied to the chair.
“Maggie,” Victor said calmly. “I didn’t expect you to stop by. I told you I’d see you in a day or so.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Maggie demanded, stepping farther into the room. “Let her go. This isn’t part of our plan.”
Victor’s smile was cold. “It may not be part of your plan, but it’s mine.”
Her brows drew together in confusion “So everything we had, it was just a joke to you?”
“Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.” Victor shook his head. “We had a good thing going for a while. The sex was good, but I have bigger things to do.”
“You are a fucking liar,” Maggie hissed. “You led me on. Did my father know about you?”
Victor’s expression darkened. “Ha. Your father was useless. The fool stole from me, and he got what he deserved.”
“You killed him,” she screeched as her hands clenched into fists. “You killed my father.”
Victor didn’t have time to step back before Maggie lunged at him and beat him with her fists. “You murdering bastard.”
He tried to shove her, but she kept hitting him. Finally, he slapped her across the face, then grabbed hold of her wrists and threw her onto the sofa. “Stop this.”
“Or what?” she said, her voice shaking with fury.
“You won’t like the ‘or what,’” he replied.
Maggie sat on the sofa, sobbing. Victor took one chair. “Maggie, your father was in the business of cheating people he shouldn’t. It finally caught up with him.”
Jane thought about launching herself at Victor, even while tied to the chair. It wasn’t much, but maybe between her and Maggie, they could still take him down.
Victor put down what he was reading and stood to face Jane, the expression on his face thunderous.
Oh God, was he going to kill her? Jane swallowed the bile that was gurgling in her gut. What to do? Nothing came to mind.
Maggie looked around, and Jane noticed the moment Maggie focused on the metal lamp and made her decision.
Slowly, Maggie picked it up. She snuck up behind Victor and swung with all her might. It connected with a resounding whack against his back.
Victor staggered.
“Son of a bitch.” He pulled out his gun, turned and shot her. Maggie’s body slumped to the ground.
Jane screamed.