Chapter 5 Strategy
Strategy
Three so far: the old guy, the blond with the bright white smile, and the dark-haired brick shithouse who now hauled her into a suite instead of a room—more hardwood, heavy paneling over stone walls, antique throw rugs which had seen a lot of hard use, another heavy wardrobe and a bedstead of pale ashwood instead of wrought iron glimpsed through an interior door.
That was bad, but maybe she could break off a chunk and batter her way to freedom.
Motivation makes miracles, as Mom always said. And oh God, Liv didn’t want to think about her mother right now.
“Bathroom’s through there,” he said, swinging around so she could see yet another slightly ajar door to the other side of the bedroom entrance, a bright clean slice of tile glowing through. “The windows won’t let you out, so don’t try that again. You gonna go crazy if I let go of you?”
“I’m not crazy.” Her ribs heaved. She’d been silent the whole trip, looking for a way out; no dice, he didn’t even put her down once. Be smart, Liv. “Why did you kidnap me?”
“Like our Father said, you’re under guard.
That’s all.” He was a solid mass of muscle, and very warm.
It felt like he could snap her in half, and if he tried she was going to fight some more.
Sink her nails in to get skin underneath, so when they dumped her body, she would have DNA evidence trapped there—
“Don’t fade out now, ma’am.”
That’s the last thing on my mind, asshole. But she went still, breathing as deeply as she could. He hauled her around like she weighed nothing, which meant she had to get creative.
At least she’d been right about the door. It opened up into the hall so she couldn’t get behind it, and now she knew that standing nearby and braining whoever came through wasn’t a winning strategy.
Not unless she could find a better weapon. How many of these rooms did they have?
She still ached all over, too. And all she was wearing was the goddamn nightgown. Her rope was in the other room, and a fat lot of good it did her since the window glass was some fucking bullshit.
How badly was she bleeding? At least that was evidence. They could clean, but a UV light would show blood, right? It was a fine time to wish she’d actually read forensic research instead of just watching police procedurals to laugh at the mess they made of courtroom technique.
The guy was talking again. “Okay. This is how it’s gonna go. I’m gonna set you on the bed, and—”
She erupted into wild motion again. Achieved nothing. Again.
“Okay, okay.” He hauled her up, somehow avoiding her kicking. “Not the bed. Look, you…” He paused when she went limp again, lowered her slowly. “Tell me where you feel safe, and I’ll turn you loose there. Okay?”
“Outside.” It was worth a try. “That’s where I’d feel safe.”
Hopefully he’d cracked a smile, a chink in his armor, but he sure didn’t sound like it. “Come on, ma’am.”
“You just doing your job here?” It was only partly sarcasm—whatever he said would give her a clue.
A psych degree was good for something, even if it was near useless during after-graduation job searches.
Getting the paralegal gig at Maddox, Baker, still, for all she knew he could be the motivating personality in this little folie à trois.
And beyond him, at mirage distance on the other side of the sitting room with its table, chairs, settee, and empty bookshelf, the open door to the hall.
She didn’t know the layout and he hadn’t taken her down any stairs, but if she could just get out…
“What’s your name?” Don’t break eye contact. Humanize yourself. “I’m Livvie.” Nobody called her that unless they wanted to get her goat; it was either Liv or Olivia—or Ms. Stellack, if they were nasty.
God, her brain just kept jumping around with inconsequentials. Focus, Liv.
“That’s pretty.” He considered her a moment. “I’m Erik.”
At least he didn’t go for a handshake. “Erik…?” Would he give her a last name, one she could take to the cops if she got loose? She tried a smile, the placating expression every woman learned early. Don’t look at the door. Don’t.
“Go ahead,” he said, almost kindly. “You can try it, break for the door. It might even be easier.”
So if I run, he’ll do something. All right. “What if I just stand here?”
“We can talk.” He glanced down. “Or, you know, I can leave you to get dressed. Your toes are turning blue.”
Of course he was trying to throw off her game. Still, she took a half-step back, unable to stop the movement. “Dressed?”
“Clothes on the bed. Our Father took care of that.”
Oh, that’s great. The need to look at the hall door was almost physical, a sharp mounting urge—and, embarrassingly, she had to pee like a racehorse again.
All the water she’d gulped from the bathroom faucet midway through destroying the other bedroom was attempting to escape, and was none too choosy about its exit.
She swallowed bile. Her mouth tasted monstrously foul.
“I’ll be sure to thank him.” Right between the eyes.
“Look, Erik, you don’t have to do this. I won’t tell anyone. ”
“Divide and conquer. You’re really smart.” He nodded, once, a crisp military motion. “And you’re probably terrified right now, but listen to me. You’re safe. Nothing will hurt you here.”
Bullshit. She lifted her hands—and stopped, staring at them.
The thin slices on her fingers—and the big cut on her palm—were gone. The blood was still there, slicking her fingers and going tacky-wet in the folds, but underneath, her skin was whole. Unmarked.
There wasn’t even a pink line or two to show where the edges had scraped or sliced.
“That’s impossible,” she whispered, and realized she’d taken her eyes off him.
“See?” He regarded her steadily. “Nothing here will hurt you, Livvie. Least of all me.” He even leaned forward slightly, like he was going to try to touch her.
Something in the water. Has to be. Shit.
She retreated as fast as she could, slamming the bathroom door and throwing its ancient lock with sweating, scrabbling fingers.
There was nothing else to do, and though her foot with its mask of drying blood slipped a little on both hardwood and tile, there was no sign of a wound.
Liv huddled on the commode for a long time, shaking, watching the white-painted door.
She wasn’t quite out of ideas yet, but it was close.