Chapter 37
37
When her mind refused to stop swirling, Vivian climbed off the bed and, listening to her stomach growl, walked over to her purse. Checking her wallet, she pulled out some cash, deciding to hit the vending machines she’d seen in the lobby. Not in the mood for a meal, she thought a soda and some chips would work. And maybe a candy bar…yeah, definitely chocolate. The thought that vending machines should stock wine ran through her mind, but she’d settle for chocolate.
Walking to the door, she hesitated when she heard voices just outside her room. Knowing there were no other guest cabins and the receptionist had said the housekeepers were gone for the day, she leaned closer, placing her ear to the wood. Whoever was outside talking, their voices moved farther down the path.
Frowning, she stood on her tiptoes to look out the peephole in the door. The viewer was old, but wiping it on her side, she stared at the pathway, seeing nothing.
Setting her heels back to the floor, she shoved the cash into her pocket, still intent on getting a snack. Not wanting to startle the housekeepers if they’d returned, and having no desire to draw unwanted attention to herself, she opened the door quietly and slipped outside. Male and female voices were coming from inside the laundry, but she wasn’t sure how many. The door was partially open, but she was unable to see inside.
Assuming the housekeepers hadn’t finished their work, she turned and hurried quietly to the back door of the inn. Once inside, she trudged along the carpeted hallway before rounding the corner into the lobby. Fatigue had settled deep inside, and each step was harder than the one before.
Seeing the receptionist’s eyes pinned to the small TV on his counter, she headed to the vending machines. Grinning at the low prices compared to California, she soon had a caffeine-free soda, a bag of chips, and a chocolate candy bar.
She turned to ask the receptionist if the returning housekeepers would be in the laundry area for long, but a crowd of people came from the main hall and into the lobby. They were talking loudly and, from their conversations, were from the tour group. As they passed her, chatting about the bar they were going to for dinner and how it was part of the Men of Alaska film set, she stepped to the side and made her way back to the hallway opposite the lobby.
Returning down the old, worn, multi-patterned carpet toward the back door, her hands were now full of her snack booty. As she neared her cabin, she shuffled the chips and soda to one hand to snag her room key out of her pocket. She could still hear low voices from inside the laundry cabin as she stuck her key in the lock.
Opening her door, she looked over her shoulder. With the laundry door now fully open, she could see two female housekeepers filling spray bottles with liquid from a large plastic container. Leaning slightly, she could now see the housekeepers’ heads were covered in hijabs. Gasping, she started to turn back toward her room when one of them stepped outside. Farrah. She jolted just as the other woman stepped outside. Nafisa.
Her mouth opened to scream when a large hand from behind clamped over her face. She rolled her eyes to the side and saw Rashad, his jaw set and lips turned down in a frown.
Struggling as he wrapped his arms around hers, he easily dragged her down the path and into the laundry room.
“Damn,” Nafisa bit out, her eyes blazing with fury. “Why is she here spying on us?”
“I don’t know,” Rashad said, still trying to subdue Vivian as she struggled. His hand stayed in place, firmly shutting off any chance she had of screaming.
Stepping forward, Nafisa stood directly in front of her and, pulling out a long knife, ordered, “Kill the bitch.”
Vivian immediately stopped struggling, and Rashad moved them backward. “Are you stupid? Kill her with that…here? We have work to do, and you want to bring the police and feds here to investigate the dead body of a woman left in the laundry room?”
Nafisa’s eyes narrowed as she stared up at him. “Do not call me stupid. I’m the one who developed what we needed—me, not you, and certainly not that fool, Malik.”
Rashad towered over the woman, using his height to his advantage, and smirked. “You? The great Nafisa? Do you think you’ll live to see our plan in action if you spread her blood all over the room? You’re a fool.”
Eyes wide, Vivian attempted to follow their bickering, but her mind stayed firmly on the words Kill the bitch. Her gaze lingered on the knife in Nafisa’s hand, her heart pounding as she watched it slowly lowered.
“What are you going to do?” Nafisa asked, her words hard and angry.
“Tie her up for now. We finish what we came to do here, and then she comes with us. We go out into the woods and kill her, where the wild animals will easily destroy any evidence. Get what you need and bring it along.”
“No, no,” Farrah moaned, her body visibly shaking as she rocked back and forth.
Nafisa whirled, and a resounding slap sounded as her hand contacted Farrah’s cheek, leaving a red print. “Shut up, you weak, worthless bitch!”
Rashad roared, “Stop!” Stalking back to the women with Vivian still dangling in his arms, he lifted his hand from her mouth to grab Nafisa’s arm, swinging her around. “Touch her again, and I’ll use that knife you’re so fond of carrying around on you.”
Vivian opened her mouth to scream, but his hand clamped her mouth shut again. This time, the grip partially covered her nose, and she fought to breathe.
Nafisa’s eyes widened as she stared up at Rashad and then back to Farrah, her chest heaving. “Well, well. You and her? Akram’s supposed wife? You choose her over me?”
“It was never a choice between the two of you,” he ground out.
With the two distracted, Vivian managed to move her head enough to clear her nose from his hand, pulling in much-needed air.
Rashad looked down at her before lifting his gaze back to Nafisa. “Enough of this. Use your knife to cut some strips to bind her with. Then do your job. Fill those bottles. Now.” Having given his curt orders, he grabbed at the bindings handed to him and pulled Vivian outside and farther down the path into the woods.
Taking a long strip, he tied Vivian’s wrists together before tying one around her head and over her mouth. Pushing her against a tree, he forced her to sit.
His eyes narrowed on hers as he growled, “Stay there. Stay quiet, and when I kill you, I’ll be merciful and do so quickly.”
Her eyes darted everywhere, but the setting sun cast the woods in shadows. Rashad had placed her where they could keep an eye on her as they worked inside, giving her the chance to watch them working as well. Grateful he’d at least tied her hands in front of her, she felt around to see what she could use as a weapon but soon came up empty-handed.
The strip of sheet cut into her wrists as she wiggled them in an attempt to loosen the bindings. Grateful the cotton material was old and somewhat worn, she found the knot might be solid, but the cotton binding had some stretch to it. As she continued to move her wrists, she still had not come up with a plan or a weapon to use, nor could she dislodge the gag. But if I can get my hands free, at least that’s something , she thought over her panic, trying to ease the pounding in her chest.
“I can’t get Akram or Malik to answer,” Rashad growled, his pacing now stilled, his phone to his ear. “Something’s not right.” Looking at her, he stalked over and stood over her, his face full of rage. “If she’s here, I wonder where her husband is.”
Nafisa walked over and grinned. “If he shows up to Akram, he’ll get a surprise. That house is set to go, just like the other one.”
Vivian forced her eyes not to widen at the thought of Logan in danger, not wanting to give away her emotions.
Rashad stood, his hands on his hips, for a moment before he looked back at Nafisa and Farrah. “I’m going to the house to see what’s happening. It’ll only take me ten minutes to drive there. Stay here and watch her. Finish what you need to, and I’ll be back within a half hour. Don’t fuck this up. Just leave her tied until I get back.”
As he stalked away, she watched Farrah and Nafisa come out of the laundry room and caught a sly grin cross Nafisa’s face.
Logan pulled into a lone space at the Tanana Inn, stunned to see the almost full parking lot. Jumping out, he hustled toward the front steps leading to the rustic inn. Approaching the porch, his eyes caught a small black car tucked next to the pickup trucks, vans, and SUVs. Rushing to the parked vehicle, his gaze sought the license plate, and his heart dropped.
Sadie had reported Vivian’s car was there, and she’d used her credit card, but the inn didn’t have a room assigned to her. “She’s not at her car, so she must be inside somewhere,” he radioed.
Turning, he ran to the entrance and hurried inside, his plans for finding the terrorists now gone awry. All he cared about was making sure Vivian was safe.
After a quick glance at the small, empty lobby, he stalked to the receptionist's desk. The young man sitting behind the counter was talking on his cell phone, but his eyes widened at the sight of him standing in front of him, angry vibes filling the room.
“My wife just called and said she’s not feeling well, so I brought her medicine,” Logan lied. “What room is Vivian Pr…Sanders in?”
The receptionist hesitated. “Uh…we’re not supposed to give out room?—”
Leaning forward, menace in his eyes, he growled, “If my wife gets sick ’cause she can’t get her medicine in time, I’m coming for you.”
“Uh…yes, sir. Uh, we were full in the regular rooms, but I had an older cabin room behind the inn that I put her in. It’s clean and perfectly fine, but?—”
“Where?” he bit out.
The receptionist pointed to his right. “Down the hall…at the end is a door…it’s the only cabin next to the laundry?—”
The boy’s words were cut off as Logan stalked around the corner, his determined footsteps softened by the carpet. Opening the door carefully, he peered out, seeing two cabins farther down a path, one with a laundry sign over the door. Nearing the first, he viewed the open door, observing a drink, a bag of chips, and a candy bar lying on the floor. A quick search showed him Vivian had been here, her still packed bag sitting near the turned-down bed, but she wasn’t in the room or bathroom.
Heading out, he noted a light shining from the laundry cabin’s doorway. He glanced down, and his heart plunged as he saw the evidence of a scuffle, one where someone with small feet was dragged down the mulched path toward the door of the laundry room. “Someone’s got her,” he radioed. Logan knew he needed backup and tossed up a grateful prayer that Cole had flown to Ester and then was on his way to Tanana. “Get Cole and Casper here.”
“They’re close and on their way.”