Chapter 60
“What?”
Tessa felt the car accelerate. But Emily was not steering onto the exit for Des Moines.
“Plot twist. Like in your book,” Emily said. “So. Now, while I have you—”
“Have me?” Other cars peeled off, headed for downtown. Emily’s car did not. “What are you—”
“Don’t worry, Tessa, we won’t interrupt your precious book tour.
Although I do hear there was an annoying glitch in today’s event, I hope they can remedy that.
The more books you sell, the more money your publisher makes and, as a result, the more money you make.
And money is extremely important to us. You wouldn’t want your events—or your hotel stays—to get interrupted again.
Silly old fire alarms, they do go off at the slightest touch, especially in those mid-century hotels. ”
“We? What we? I don’t understand what you’re talking about, and I certainly don’t understand what you’re doing, and I need you to take me to the hotel now. You’re making me very uncomfortable. Please get off at the next exit. And take me to the hotel, as my publishers arranged.”
“I should tell you, I suppose, your publishers did not arrange this particular ride. But I’m still happy to take you to your hotel. The Midlands, as you yourself told me. But we need to chat first.”
“Chat about what?” The car was going faster now; the architecture of downtown Des Moines, off to her right, silhouetted in the glaring sun.
Tessa, buckled into the back seat, with her suitcase locked in the trunk, and a stranger at the wheel, was suddenly a passenger on her way, at more than sixty miles an hour, to whereabouts unknown.
The necklace, the chocolates, the cancellation. And now this. Someone was trying to ruin her life.
Henry. Linny. Zack.
Henry had texted her, not half an hour ago, and she’d ignored it. What if he’d been calling for help?
Please be safe. She willed her family to hear her thoughts. Please be safe.
“I asked you, chat about what?” Tessa tried to keep her voice from quavering. “And how did you know where I was?”
“Yes, well, your schedule is not difficult to find, again, as you yourself told me, it’s on your website.
Since you were flying from Seattle for an event tonight in Des Moines, there were only two flights you could have taken.
And you came right up to me, expecting a driver. Exactly what I hoped would happen.”
Tessa held up her phone. “I’m calling the police.”
“Do,” Emily said. “I’m not sure missing an exit is illegal, but call if you must.”
“You pretended to be my driver. This is kidnapping.”
“I am your driver. And you came with me willingly, didn’t you? You even, at one point, offered to relinquish your suitcase.”
“But the publisher—”
“Yes, call them, too. Tell them you got into the car with a stranger. Had they mentioned they were sending a driver? I didn’t see one.”
“You just told me you set off the fire alarm in Denver and canceled my event here in Des Moines. Did you put a locket in my room, too?”
“ I most certainly did no such thing.” Emily shot her an over-the-shoulder glance.
“That locket was on all your socials, and the fire was on national TV, and everyone who signed up for your event tonight got an apologetic last-minute email from the bookstore. I was simply commenting on your string of disruptions.”
“What is it that you want?” Tessa could not falter here. “Tell me. Now.”
This was The Bad Thing, exactly as she’d feared, coming back to haunt her.
It would taint her forever. Follow her. A grotesque and indelible tattoo she had not asked for.
Now she’d have to deal with it. And the knowledge that the real Emily had certainly betrayed her.
This person had chosen that name on purpose. “And Emily—that’s not your real name.”
“Oh. Very wise. Cutting to the chase. Just like in your book.” Emily checked her side mirror, then looked at her in the rearview. “My name is not Emily, correct. But I have to say it was truly fun to see your reaction when I introduced myself as such.”
The car was going faster now, Tessa could almost feel Emily, or whatever her name was, pressing the accelerator. They were not going over the speed limit, with Emily—she did not know what else to call her—inconspicuously staying in the center lane.
“Might as well call me… Harper. First of all, this highway is a circle around the city, we are now passing nine o’clock, if you can imagine it that way.
When I make the entire circumference, we’ll be right back here at nine, and I’ll happily drop you at your fancy hotel so you can continue your fancy book tour. I wanted to give us a chance to talk.”
Tessa fingered her phone. She could call the police, but by the time the cops arrived, this “Harper” could have taken an exit, and dumped Tessa on the side of the road somewhere.
Did Tessa know the license plate of this car?
No. Did she know Harper’s real name? No.
Was there any way for police to capture her?
No matter. Tessa was trapped. With her suitcase locked away into the trunk and her future—and her precious family’s future—in the hands of a stranger.