With a deep sigh, she shook her head. “Thank you for saving me. I probably would have drowned if you hadn’t jumped in.” She paused. “Actually, I might not have made it to the drowning part. He was going to shoot me.”
His hands stilled. Those blue eyes met hers. “You want to tell me what that was all about?”
She shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
“I’ve done complicated before.”
“That’s cryptic.”
His lips curved, but the slightly haunted expression that slipped into his eyes said he’d seen things better left alone.
“I’m a financial crimes investigator for a bank,” she said.
His hands paused in their cleaning and he looked up. “I’ve worked with a couple of those before. Cool job if you like numbers.”
“It can be. Apparently, it can also be quite dangerous,” she muttered.
“After your late-night swim adventure, I’m inclined to agree.” He set the cloth aside and put the parts of the weapon back together, then wiped it down once more. “So, you think your job had something to do with all this?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Why’s that?”
“I think someone didn’t like what I was investigating, decided to grab me as I was walking out of work, throw me in the back of a trunk, and bring me here to kill me.”
Finished with the weapon, he set it aside and turned his full attention on her. “I know that was scary for you.”
“A bit of an understatement, but yes. It was definitely scary. And they would have gotten away with it, too, if not for you.”
“Did the guy on the boat say anything? Give you any clue about why he wanted you dead?”
“No. That was the weird thing. He never said a word. Even when I was begging him to tell me why.” She shuddered and looked away, the fear washing over her once again.
“You said they grabbed you as you were leaving work. How did they do that?”
“They drugged me.”
“How many of them were there?”
“Two of them, I think. Could have been three.”
“So they got you after work. Did you yell? Try to grab someone’s attention?’
“I never had a chance. And even if I had, it was late and there wasn’t anyone around.” She rubbed her eyes. “It all happened so fast. They stuck me with a needle and whatever was in it made me feel weird and lethargic. I remember being in the trunk, but I must have passed out, so I have no idea how long they drove or what happened up until I woke up in a shed tied to a boat ramp.”
“What time did you leave work?”
“I don’t know, around midnight?” She shook her head. “I’m a night owl. I don’t have anything to rush home to.” She grimaced. “That sounds pathetic, but as long as I’m doing my job, my boss, the bank manager, Calvin Swift, lets me flex my hours so they’re convenient for me.” She paused and stared at the flames. “I fought them, but—” Goose bumps pebbled her arms, even though she wasn’t cold. “What lake are we on anyway?”
“Lake Henley.”
“I’ve heard of it but don’t know much about it.”
“It’s private. Mostly second homes people rent out. I think there are about five year-round residents, which means during the winter, it’s a ghost town.” He shrugged. “That suited my purposes.”
An interesting comment she’d like to follow up on, but had a feeling he wouldn’t say anything more. “And probably why my kidnapper thought it would a good place to dump a body,” she muttered then sighed. “So, what day is it? Is it still Wednesday night? Early Thursday morning?”
“It’s Thursday night.” He glanced at his watch. “A little past nine.”
Her shoulders slumped. “So I lost a day?”
“Looks like it. Anyone you need to call and let them know you’re okay?”
“I probably should call Heather. She’s got to be wondering where I am.”
“Who’s Heather?”
“My best friend.”
He handed her his cell phone and she dialed the number. It went straight to voicemail. “Heather, call me when you get this. Only call me on this number as I don’t have a phone right now. I was kidnapped and almost killed and I need to talk you ASAP.” She paused. “And no, this isn’t a bad joke.” She hung up and rubbed her forehead.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Or is that a stupid question?”
“Not stupid at all. I’m just a little worried. Heather always answers her phone and the fact that she didn’t . . .” She shrugged. She fell silent, then shook her head. “Heather will call me back when she can. I guess I need to go to the police and report this.”
“I called it in while you were warming up. They’re sending one officer to take your statement, but unfortunately, there was a big wreck nearby with fatalities and this is a small town. The majority of officers will be responding to that first until help from other counties arrives. I told them you were safe for now and the guy in the boat was probably long gone. Which means they’ll get to you when they can.”
She blinked. “Oh. Okay.”
“Who was he? The one in the boat?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never seen him before.”
“How’d you get loose from the railing?”
“Dumb luck? The grace of God? I was struggling pretty hard and he’d been in a hurry when he tied me to it.” She pulled her sleeves back just far enough to reveal the rope burns. Blood had flowed from them before her dip into the lake, but had washed away during her impromptu swim. They stung like fire, but it was better than the alternative.
“If I have to choose between the two, I’ll go with the dumb luck,” Brady said.
“Hmm.” She paused. “What is it you do exactly?”
“I’m a detective with the Columbia Police Department. Occasionally, I work with the dive team when they’re shorthanded, but my main job is criminal investigation.”
She gaped, then snapped her mouth shut. “Wow. Okay, then. You might not be very happy with God right now, but I’m thrilled with him for sending you my way.”
He barked a short laugh and rose to grab his pack by the door. He rummaged through it and she watched, curious. He returned to kneel in front of her. “Let me see those wrists.”
“They’re fine.”
He took her right hand in his anyway. The feel of his warm fingers wrapped around hers chased some of the horror away.
“You don’t believe in God?” she asked, sliding her hand out of his grasp and pulling her sleeve down over the wound.
“I believe in him.” He nodded to her wrists. “And they’re not fine. Let’s wrap them for now. Give them a chance to heal and keep the germs out. You don’t want them to get infected.”
With no energy to argue—and feeling uncharacteristically compliant—she let him bandage her wrists. When her sleeve rose a little too high to reveal a multitude of white scars crisscrossing the inside of her forearm, she said nothing, just adjusted the sleeve to hide them. He glanced up and caught her gaze, a question in his eyes she had no intention of addressing.
“Why are you mad at him, then?” she asked.
He blinked. “Who says I’m mad at him?”
“A number of little clues you’ve dropped.”
“Like?”
“Like choosing dumb luck over divine intervention. Body language when I mentioned God. Changing the subject to my wrists.” Should she push him on that or leave it alone? It really wasn’t fair to expect him to answer deep personal questions if she wasn’t willing to respond in kind, was it?
Then again, she knew first hand that life wasn’t fair.
He raised a brow, then focused on her wrists. When he was finished, he replaced his supplies and returned to his chair.
So, he wasn’t going to answer. Alrighty then. “You always carry bandages and antibiotic ointment?” she asked.
“I do when I’m going to be fishing.”
“Ah, smart.”
“I try.”
A pause. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re mad at God?” she asked.
“No.”
“Okay. Then what are you doing out here all by yourself?”
He tilted his head as though surprised she didn’t keep pushing. “I’m on vacation. Where are you from?” he asked.
“Sicily. The city in South Carolina, not Italy, much to my regret.”
“Is that where you were kidnapped from?”
“Yes.”