Chapter 22
Addison fought the grogginess filling her head as she battled to open her eyes. Where was she? She blinked, pushing back the haze. Nothing in this room sparked any memories. Not a one. She hadn’t a clue where she was. The only thing she knew for sure was she’d never been here before.
So how did she end up here? The last thing she remembered was Nash’s voice in her ear. The phone. A shadow from behind. A sweet-smelling cloth over her face. Dizziness as she lost consciousness.
She tensed.
“Relax. You’re not going anywhere,” a voice said from across the room.
A light flickered on, and Addison shielded her eyes.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” That voice…? It registered somewhere in the back of her foggy mind. She reached to sit up, but couldn’t. Something held her down—a large, heavy band. She tugged and pulled, and the only thing she accomplished was making her wrists sore.
Ugh! She felt the restraint. Plastic ties… big ones. Why couldn’t it be one of those rope knots Davey had shown her? She had a chance of getting out of those.
She blinked away the glare and fully opened her eyes. The first thing that came into view was a poster of the 1991 Twins team. Right next to it was another poster of the 1987 team. Those were the years they won the World Series. Holy crap! It dawned on her. The voice. The posters. Corey.
“Didn’t you get enough beauty sleep?”
“What’s going on?” She had an idea, but wasn’t thrilled about it.
“I’m just collecting on that second date you promised me.”
“What date?” She hadn’t promised him anything. She hadn’t even kissed him.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Remember, you said if the Twins won that night, you’d be taking me out for pizza, which you never did.”
“Seriously, all you had to do was say something. I will order you pizza right now.” Looking around, not seeing her purse. Her phone… wasn’t here. Shit.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. Plenty of time for that later.”
Addison’s gut clenched. She wiggled and wormed. The more she worked to free herself, the more the plastic ties cut into her wrists and ankles.
She dropped her head in defeat, but she wouldn’t give up.
She looked for an exit on the off chance she could free herself.
All she saw were stone walls and dirt floors.
She couldn’t tell if she was in a basement or some old shack, but it smelled moldy.
Goosebumps raced up her arms from the dampness in the room, or they could be caused by the man currently sending stabbing stares her way.
She bit back the fear that flooded her body and remembered Corey was just a guy. Men were putty in her hands. Unfortunately, her hands were tied up at the moment, but she could do this.
“Corey, I’m not into the bondage scene. Just untie me and we can go grab a slice.” She lifted her bound hands as far off the cot as she could. It was only an inch or two.
He shook his head. “Not yet.” His smirk rivaled that of the Grinch, evil and plotting.
She dropped her head to the side. “What? Can you at least tell me why? I have a really hard time thinking that just because I didn’t get you pizza for a second date, you would kidnap me and tie me up in this… Where are we?”
“Oh, you don’t think I’m one of those simpleton men who fall at your feet?”
She’d hoped.
“I figured you out the day you walked up to me in the bar. It was like God was giving me a second chance.”
Second chance? Second chance? She couldn’t think of anything where he had a first chance. Yes, Addison had dated a lot of men, but she didn’t forget them.
“I can tell by your face that you don’t know what I’m talking about. You ruin lives, and all you do is keep on going from guy to guy, the tramp that you are.”
She stared at him. Tramp? The only man she dated who was married was Mark, and she couldn’t imagine that Corey had anything to do with Mark. Could he?
The fog in her mind slowly cleared. Something in her screamed to keep him talking… find a way out of this. Because right now, fight or flight was not an option.
Nash was ready to pull his hair out. He sat across from Detective Simon. The man opened the file and scanned the list of names. “We’ve already checked out the recent list of men she’s dated. They all checked out, had alibis.”
“Well, they might’ve had alibis for other infractions like the rock through her window and stuff, but we already know that was Mrs. Louis. This has to be someone from her past.” Nash held out his hand, wiggled his fingers, waiting for the detective to hand him the list.
The detective stared at him. It would’ve scared a lesser man, but not Nash. He’d faced down sterner things than a small-town detective. Nash shot a stone-cold glare back at the man.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” The detective caved, handing the sheet with a list of names across the desk.
The list was longer than Nash expected. “You guys were thorough. You went back quite a ways.”
“That’s just in the last two years.”
Nash bit his cheek, trying to hide the annoyance. If he totaled up the number of women he’d gone on dates with in the last two years, it might not be this many, but there would be a few. He pushed aside the stab of jealousy and surveyed the list. “Well, let’s start from the top.”
“Other than you, I think we should focus on the top four, because before that, most people don’t come out of the woodwork months after the fact if they didn’t have a history of violence or domestic assault.”
Nash’s gut clenched at his words. Assault. His jaw ticked. He needed to find her… Now.
Nash looked at the names. “Frank? Marti Davis’s cousin Frank?”
“That’s the one.”
Nash shook his head. “I cannot imagine Frank doing anything to hurt Addison, but have you talked to him?”
“He was at the local library the night she was run off the road, and today he was at work.”
“Okay, what about Barnes?”
“Looked a little harder at him. The man has several registered firearms, but he’s out of town this week on a work trip. His hotel confirmed he checked in the night of her car accident and is still there.”
Nash felt the air seeping from his lungs, but he couldn’t lose hope. He scanned the list and paused. Something was missing. He ran a finger down the list. Where was the guy from Merc’s? “This list is missing someone. Corey. He drives a big Chevy and loves sports.”
“Corey Miller? I heard he was back in town.”
Nash nodded.
“Let me check into him.” Simon rapidly typed on his keyboard. He picked up his phone and made a call. Nash didn’t even pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping.
Simon hung up the phone and focused on his computer screen.
Something in Nash lit up like a Roman candle. “This could be our guy. Tell me what you know about him.”
“His parents have lived in the old Stagmeyer place just south of town for the last thirty years.”
Nash didn’t care about Miller’s parents. He wanted to know where the guy was and if he had Addison. Nash gestured with his hand to hurry up and continue.
“He’s an electrician. He works for a local contractor.” Simon read from the screen.
Nash moved closer, getting a peek at the background check on Simon’s screen.
Simon continued, “Miller moved to the Cities after graduation. His parents moved down south last year. It looks like he moved back six months ago and lives at the old homestead.”
Something in Nash clicked. The guy would have been around Addison’s age. “Had he known her in school? Could he have held a grudge for something?”
“Miller? I remember him. A skinny kid.” Simon’s expression looked far away.
“He’s not so skinny now.” The guy was ripped and taller than Nash.
“Could be. I was new to the force when his brother died in a car wreck.”
Nash wasn’t sure how Addison would fit into the scenario, but something told him that Miller was their guy.
“The guy’s as clean as a whistle. No priors.” Simon clicked a few more keys and frowned.
“What did you find?” Nash scanning the screen over Simon’s shoulder.
“It might be nothing, but Miss Benedict was one of the kids at the party with Miller’s brother the night of his death.”
A connection. Nash clenched his jaw, trying not to lose his cool.
“It could be nothing, but I just called Corey Miller’s boss, and the guy didn’t show for work today. I’ll swing by his house. If he’s not there, I’ll head to the job site to talk with his coworkers, see if I can get a read on him.”
“You check with the coworkers, and I’ll head to his place. See if he’s there. If he is or there are any clues, I’ll call you.”
Simon stood up, put both hands on his desk and leaned in, his best intimidating stare focused on Nash. “Don’t you be getting into this. This is a police matter.”
Nash leaned in, mirroring the detective’s pose. “If it has to do with Addison, it’s my business. Besides, the man broke into my house. That makes it my business.”
“We don’t know if it’s him.”
“We will, as soon as I go find him.” Nash’s nostrils flared like a bull. He wasn’t backing down.
“I could lock you up in a cell to keep you out of it.” Simon’s jaw ticked. He eyed Nash a minute longer, then his posture relaxed. “But, in cases like these, time is of the essence, and I could use the help.”
“Good.” Nash pushed off the desk and stood.
“Steele, survey and report back. That’s it.”
“I’ll do what needs to be done.” Nash strolled out of the office, leaving the detective grumbling behind him.
“Listen, Corey, I didn’t know Mark was still married. He told me he was getting a divorce.”
“Mark? Who the fuck is Mark?”
Well, crap. “Never mind.”
“So, you’re a homewrecker, too.” He pulled a knife out of his pocket.
Her eyes grew wide. She couldn’t blink. She just stared, waiting for what he would do next. He picked up a chunk of wood beside the wood-burning heater and started whittling. The casual move was in direct contrast to the way his intense stare stayed on her.