Chapter 48 Aspen
ASPEN
My mouth felt like cotton, fuzzy and dry. My eyelids fluttered, flickers of light bursting into my vision. Everything hurt as if I’d been caught in a riptide and banged against the rocks several dozen times.
It took more than a few tries to bring my surroundings into focus. They were blurry at first like I had on glasses that didn’t belong to me.
Then I saw it. A simple, one-room cabin. A tiny kitchenette. A small sitting area. A bed.
And a person tied to a wooden chair next to me.
My stomach dropped as bile surged. Everything came together in a kaleidoscope of memories. Taking out the trash. The noise. Being hit on the head.
Someone injecting me with something—drugs, obviously.
“Steven?” I croaked.
His eyes were wide as he jerked against his bindings. His wrists were secured to the arms of the chair, and his ankles to the legs. There was some sort of scarf or bandana tied around his mouth so he couldn’t speak, only make muffled grunting noises.
What the hell is happening?
Then I saw what held me to my seat: zip ties at the wrists and ankles. That bile was back, panic hot on its heels.
“Who has us?” I whispered.
Steven’s eyes bugged wider as he tried to get out a name, but I couldn’t decipher it.
I tugged on the zip ties, checking their strength. They bit into my flesh with a sharp sting. I winced and muttered a curse.
My gaze swept the room, zeroing in on the windows at the front of the cabin. All I could see were trees, nothing that gave me a clue as to where we actually were.
I leaned forward in my seat, trying to balance on my feet. I wondered if I could get free if I broke the chair. Wiggling from side to side, I tested the furniture’s sturdiness. It seemed pretty well made. Maybe if I threw myself backward?
A noise sounded from outside. Footsteps on gravel? Or something being dragged?
My stomach cramped as I set my chair back on the floor. The door flew open, and a figure filled the space. They were backlit by the afternoon sun, making it hard to see.
They took a step inside, pulling a rolling duffel behind them. And as they did, a gasp slipped free. “Elsie?” I choked.
A sneer spread across her lips. “Do you know how tired I am of being called that stupid fucking name? Almost as tired of having to listen to your constant woe-is-me act. At least you had decent baked goods at the piece-of-shit café.”
My jaw went slack. It didn’t make sense. Elsie was kind. Thoughtful. She’d had my back with the podcasters. She’d helped me secure Oren. But there was none of that kindness in her now.
It was as if she’d completely morphed in front of my eyes. The slightly jumpy woman with the warm smile was gone. There was only a snake now.
She laughed. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” She inclined her head toward Steven. “This one couldn’t shut up. Finally had to gag him.”
Nausea swirled as my mind raced. I tried to put things in order and figure out what I needed to do. The countless YouTube videos I’d watched flashed on repeat.
“Never let them get you to a secondary location.”
Well, that ship had sailed. But then another instruction stuck in my head.
“Stall. Buy yourself time so you can get out.”
Maybe if I could figure out what the hell her motives were, I could talk my way out of this.
I swallowed, trying to clear away the worst of the dryness. “What should I call you then?”
Elsie dropped the duffel. “Iris.”
As I studied the woman, taking in her blond hair and piercing blue eyes, I found the name fit her better than Elsie.
“What’s in the bag?” I asked.
She laughed. “I’ll give it to you. You’re calm under pressure.” Her laughter died. “Maybe that’s how you convinced the cops you weren’t a delusional liar.”
My breath caught. Steven’s presence had basically told me what this was about, but Iris’s words confirmed it.
“I didn’t lie.”
Iris stormed toward me, her hand fisting in my hair and jerking my head back. “You won’t get away with that here. You’re going to tell the goddamned truth if it’s the last thing you do.”
She released me with a snap. The shock and pain had tears welling in my eyes as I struggled to catch my breath.
“How did I lie?” I croaked.
Iris’s fingers clenched and flexed as if she were trying to keep herself from wringing my neck.
“John told me how jealous you were of him and Autumn. That you couldn’t stand that she was finally happy.
That he’d given her everything she ever dreamed of.
You knew he didn’t kill her, but it was your chance to finally stick it to him. ”
Her ramblings sounded so much like someone else I knew. “Is Oren helping you?”
She cackled. “That moron? Hardly. He’s a woman-hating piece of garbage who can’t write to save his life. He can’t be counted on for anything.” Iris’s lips curved. “But John said he was a good tool to keep making you pay in the short term.”
Fear and rage warred deep within me. John had always been a puppet master, great at pulling strings to get what he wanted. He’d do whatever he could to hurt me with whatever he had at his disposal.
Iris bent and unzipped the duffel. I half-expected her to pull out weapons. Instead, she removed audio recording equipment. Two microphones. Assorted wires. A laptop.
“The acoustics in here aren’t ideal, but good ole Steven’s just gonna have to deal. Right, Steve?” she asked.
He went pale but nodded slowly.
“You gonna keep your trap shut if I take that gag out?”
He nodded again.
Iris crossed to him and jerked the scarf free.
Steven sucked in several ragged breaths. “Water?” he rasped.
Iris rolled her eyes. “So dramatic. But I guess we can’t have our star host dehydrated.”
She crossed into the kitchen and toward a case of bottled water.
I glanced in his direction, whispering. “Were you working with her?”
“No,” he hissed, his voice low. “I’d never seen her until that day at your coffee shop. She stopped by my cabin and said she had a tip for the podcast. She drugged my damned coffee.”
I couldn’t read any deception in his words, but I wasn’t about to trust the jerk. “Does anyone know you’re missing?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. My lawyer should realize it tomorrow when I don’t make our meeting.”
But tomorrow would be too late.
“She’s fucking crazy,” Steven bit out.
“I heard that,” Iris singsonged. Turning around, she glared at Steven. “It’s not nice to call me crazy. Not when I’ve been so kind to you. I’m going to put your silly little podcast on the map.”
“I-I appreciate that,” he stammered. “But I’ll have to be in town to upload. There’s no Wi-Fi up here.”
It was a smart play. Maybe Iris was unhinged enough to take the bait.
She tsked at him. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Steve. We need to record our episode first.” She turned to me. “It’s your first interview. Feeling nervous?”
I swallowed hard. “Not really feeling like an interview.”
Iris’s gaze went hard. “Well, I’d get in the mood. You’re going to finally admit every single thing you did to ruin John’s life. You’re going to help set him free.”
The way she said his name turned my stomach. It was like a physical caress.
“You know John well?” I couldn’t hide the slight tremor in my voice.
A dreamy look spread across Iris’s face. “Of course, I know him well. We’re engaged. When he gets out of prison, we’re going to get married.”
Oh, shit.
That dreamy look vanished, replaced by pure hatred. “But you have to admit all your lies for that to happen.”
Sweat trickled down my spine. “I didn’t lie, Iris. I don’t know what John has been telling you—”
The slap came out of nowhere, so hard the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
“Shut up, you whore! He warned me. Warned me you’d try to talk me around to your lies. But I’m stronger than that. I’ll never believe you. You’re going to tell the truth.”
Iris pulled a knife from the waistband of her jeans. The blade glistened in the streaming sunshine. “I’d be happy to motivate you if you need it. It would be my pleasure.”