At the Quiet Edge(83)

Right, they wouldn’t work without power.

And yet . . . She was two steps from the pedestrian gate when she realized there were still a few lights on above the doors in the business park. Weird. She squinted into the dark maw of her driveway, trying to make out Mendelson’s car. She was surprised he didn’t have the spotlight on to make sure anyone within a two-mile radius could witness her embarrassment.

“Hello?” she called softly. A gust of wind pushed at her. It pushed at the gates. And the pedestrian gate opened an inch before clinking back into place.

What in the world? Why wasn’t it locked?

For a split second she felt only confusion as she began a slow turn, searching out the area around the office for Mendelson or Jones or someone. But as her gaze cut through the night, sliding over the driveway gate, over the cement, toward the curb and the sidewalk beyond that, her brain sent a warning. Not even a thought, just a quick rise of the hair on her arms, a sharpening of her vision.

A terrible premonition.

Something was very wrong, and she knew it deep in her animal soul even before Lily saw the rush of a blank, black space in the storm, the reaching out of a shadowed arm, and the dull glint of light on a leather glove.

She had one heartbeat to grab for her phone, but no time to pull it free. She sucked in a breath, but her scream was caught by rough leather and the hard, strong hand beneath it.

She fought. She kicked and bucked and twisted, but she was already fighting against the crushing crook of an arm, and it was too late. She could only manage to whimper and wish she’d done a thousand things differently in her life.

“Shhhh,” he shushed into her ear. When she drew in a sharp breath through her nose, she was horrified to realize he smelled bright and fresh, like minty toothpaste and nice shampoo. That couldn’t be right. It couldn’t.

“All I need is a little information.”

Mendelson.

Mendelson? That made no sense.

Why would he do this to get Jones? She’d already given him the information, and now he thought she’d stay quiet about being assaulted by a cop?

Oh God. That meant he was crazy. Or . . . was it possible Mendelson was one of Jones’s victims and couldn’t see past his own need for revenge?

She found herself whimpering against his gloved hand again.

“Where did you take my wife?” he growled.

That shocked Lily into shutting up. What the hell was he talking about?

“I’m going to move my hand, and you tell me where you took my wife and child.”

Wife and child? No. That couldn’t be. Only Connie had brought a child with her, and Mendelson had looked straight into Connie’s face without a word. But . . . When it hit her, her veins flooded with ice water. A wife. With a child.

“Amber?” she whispered as he slowly eased the pressure on her mouth.

But saying her name had been a mistake. His fingertips dug hard into her chin and jaw. “Yes,” he sneered, ruthlessly grabbing her face. Her teeth cut into her cheeks, and she tasted blood.

“Amber. My wife. My little angel girl. I know she came here. Her cellphone turned off just past the highway there. And I saw that bitch Zoey Cain drive that whore out here the other night. I get your fucking scheme, you bitch. Where did you take my wife?”

“She . . .” Lily tried to choke down her terror and think. He loosened his brutal hold a little. “She only came here to stay the night. That’s all. Then she left.”

“She slept in your apartment?”

“No.”

“Where, then? In a locker?”

She shook her head.

He laughed. “You’d better answer me, bitch, or we’ll go wake your boy and see if he remembers my wife.”

“No! No, he didn’t even see her. There’s a camper. An RV. She spent the night and then she left in the morning. I don’t know where she went. Please. I’m so sorry.”

“I want to see it.” He wrenched her arm up behind her back, and Lily did her best not to cry out. Everett was still asleep. He would sleep through this, whatever happened to her.

She’d brought this on them, brought danger to her door. She’d brought Amber here first, and then she’d practically invited Mendelson in this morning. She would accept the consequences all for herself. At least if she was taking him to the RV she was taking him away from her son.

She moved as quickly as she could without putting more pressure on her arm, her mind spinning, her stomach rolling. The most dangerous time for a woman was when she was trying to leave. The most dangerous time for any woman, apparently, even one who was just trying to help.

She realized suddenly that her free hand was tight against her side and still clutching the phone in her pocket. But there was nothing she could do with his arm curled so hard around her. If she tried pushing buttons, Siri was liable to wake up and ask her loudly what she wanted.

Could she jerk away and run? Just for a few seconds? Just for the time it would take to dial 911? She knew this place, after all, far better than he did.

Lightning tore through the sky ahead, and she took it as a sign. When the thunder clapped a few seconds later, she yanked herself to the side, hoping to twist her arm free and run. She twisted, she took two steps, she got the phone free of her pocket, and then he tackled her.

“You bitch,” he growled, rain or spittle landing on the side of her face. “You bitch.” When he kneed her in the ribs, she let the phone drop, tossing her arm as she opened her fingers. But that was something. At least he couldn’t take it from her. At least someone would find it, and they’d know she fought. Know she’d been grabbed and hadn’t just run away from her high-risk life out here on the edge of society. He kneed her again, forcing the air from her in a jolt of pain.