“They got out of sync,” Duncomb said. “We’ll get it sorted next time around. Also, just FYI, we’ve lost Allan for a while.”
“He’s not in the woods?”
“Call of nature,” Duncomb said.
“Are you kidding me?” Joyce said. “He’s in the woods!”
“First of all, it wasn’t the sort of thing you can do standing in the woods, and second, even if it was, you don’t exactly want someone to find you with your dick in your hands when there’s a sex pervert in the neighborhood.”
This was just getting better and better.
She was about halfway along the route when she heard footsteps behind her. Someone had caught up to her, but was not passing.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Yeah?” Duncomb said.
“I got someone on my tail. Can you see?”
“You’re just out of range. . . . Okay, yeah, I see you. Okay, it’s a guy, walking along, head down.” A pause. “Wearing a blue hoodie, head covered.”
Joyce felt her insides starting to melt.
“This could be it,” she said.
“He’s getting closer. Closer. Hang on, hang on . . . Nope, stand down. The guy’s heading for a car.”
Joyce gave herself permission to steal a quick glance over her shoulder. Duncomb was right. The guy had a remote in his hand. Lights flashed on an old van.
“I want to get a closer look at him anyway,” Duncomb said. “Back to you in a minute.”
“Okay,” Joyce said.
She was turning back to eyes front when someone came out of the trees and grabbed her.
He wrapped one arm around her body, placed a hand over her mouth, and lifted her off her feet. Joyce guessed he was three or four inches taller than her, putting him at five-eight or five-nine, maybe a hundred and forty pounds. She could feel the muscle in his arms as he carted her off into the bushes.
In the second that he whirled her around, she saw no other person on the path. Allan was off in the bathroom somewhere, Michael and Phil were probably approaching the athletic center about now, and Duncomb had gone to get a better look at the guy who’d just been on her tail.
At least she could still talk to him.
Except she couldn’t.
Not because her attacker had his hand clamped over her mouth, but because the Bluetooth device that had been clipped to her ear was gone. When the man lifted her off the ground, she’d felt the earpiece dislodge. It was back there on the path somewhere.
Which meant that she did not hear Duncomb say, “I don’t think that guy is up to much. I’m going back to the car. Hang on, think I’ve lost you. . . . Let me just touch base with Mike and Phil and I’ll get back to you.”
Once the man had her into the trees and beyond the view of anyone else passing along the path, he threw her down onto the ground.
His description matched that provided by the three women. His head was hooded, but even when Joyce looked up and directly into his face, she couldn’t make out anything about him. He was wearing a black ski mask.
Duncomb, unaware that he was not being heard, said, “Okay, I got them; they’re coming your way. Let me ask you this. If you’re a woman, can you take a pee in the woods?”
The man straddled her body. He had her left arm pinned down with his right hand, at the wrist, and his left hand over her mouth. Her right was trapped against her body, held in place with his thigh. But her right hand was still inside her purse.
Holding the gun.
“Okay, okay,” he said to her. She watched his lips move in the circular opening of the mask. “Don’t make any noise. It’s going to be okay. Just be cool and nothing’s going to happen.”
She had her fingers around the butt and was working to get her index finger on the trigger. If he’d relax his thighs just a bit . . .
“You just stay here for five seconds,” he said. “I’m going to take off.”
Duncomb said, “You there? Oh, I get it. I crossed a line with the peeing question. Okay, I’m an asshole. But tell me where you are, Joyce. I don’t know where the hell you are. Joyce?”
Joyce wondered what the hell this guy on top of her was talking about. He’d dragged her into the bushes so he could run off? Not that that was bad news, but it didn’t make sense.
Maybe he couldn’t get it up.
Whatever. She didn’t give a shit. She just wanted to get that gun out of her purse and blow this fucker’s head off in case he changed his mind.
“We good? Are we good?” he asked her. “Just nod if we’re good.”
His sweaty palm still over her mouth, she forced a nod.
“Okay,” he said.
He took his hand off her mouth, released his grip on her wrist, and started to get off her.
Joyce got her right arm free. Brought the gun up fast.
“Jesus!” the man said, bringing his left arm back, then swinging it hard against Joyce’s arm.
The gun flew from her hand, landing in the blanket of leaves covering the forest floor.