But first, there was one more room within the morgue that he hadn’t checked out. He swung the door wide. Nobody was inside. The floor was tiled. There was a metal table identical to the one he’d been sleeping on in the cold room. In the corner was a machine with tubes…embalming equipment used to replace blood with chemicals. He’d done enough research over the years to know what went on in places like this. This particular morgue was immaculate. There were lotions, disinfectants, hand sanitizers, and boxes of gloves on every shelf. A scale hung from the ceiling. On the table was a standard white mortuary tray made of fiberglass with the block that would be placed beneath a corpse’s head to keep it above the chest and prevent purging. The sink in the corner looked more like a toilet and was used to drain blood and fluids. Steel bins filled with tools, medical waste bins, and crates took up the rest of the area. It was hard to imagine working here day in and day out.
Back in the lobby, he found a woman’s purse on the desk. Said female was still pounding on the door and making a lot of noise for one small woman. Every once in a while she sprinkled in words like die, jail time, and asshole.
Ignoring her, he fished around inside her bag and shoved her car keys into the pocket of his lab coat. According to her I.D., her name was Angela Chack. She was five-foot four, blond, a hundred and twenty pounds, thirty-one years old…today. That little tidbit of information made him feel a tinge of guilt, an emotion he didn’t have time for. Although he had plenty of money in his account back home, he wouldn’t be able to touch it until he found a way to prove his innocence. Until then, he would have to borrow money from Angela Chack, starting with the fifty-three dollars and change he found in her wallet.
Something vibrated.
It was her cell phone.
A man’s picture flashed on the screen along with the name Rob. Boyfriend? He put the phone to the side and finished going through her things. No gun. No pepper spray or weapons of any sort. She could keep her purse.
Ding.
He looked at the phone again. A red dot appeared next to messages. He didn’t like snoops, but he figured it would be a good idea to learn anything he could about Angela Chack, since she would be coming along for the ride. He had a list of people he needed to talk to, starting with a certain defense lawyer in California whom he intended to have a heart–to-heart with.
Her friend Rob, with his perfectly combed hair and paisley bow tie, looked like a douche. “Angela,” the voice message began, “please answer my call. I’m sorry about what happened. I never meant for you to find out about Christine and me—at least not like that.”
Jason winced.
“I know you’re not the emotional type—you’re probably fine—but I need to hear your voice so I know you’ll be okay. Oh, and happy birthday, Angi.”
Jason shook his head. That was painful to listen to. He turned off the phone, since he didn’t want anyone tracking her whereabouts, then slipped it into his pocket.
Chapter Four
Angela rubbed her arms as she paced the room, trying to keep warm.
He’d been gone for fifteen minutes before she finally heard the door being unlocked. She grabbed the scalpel and turned to face the criminal. He was no longer naked, which was a relief. He now wore an old pair of overalls and a lab coat that was a size too small. He looked ridiculous.
“Take my car and go,” she told him. “I won’t tell a soul, I promise.”
“Not going to happen.” He walked toward the drawers at the other side of the room and opened one up. “You’re coming with me.”
“What are you doing?”
He shut the drawer and opened the next. “When do these people get clothes put on them?”
“Not until its time for the viewing.”
He shut the drawer and turned toward her.
She stuck the scalpel out in the air in front of her. “Stay away.”
He let out a grunt as he marched forward, took hold of her wrist, and made her drop the blade.
Now she was scared. She didn’t want to die. “What are you going to do with me? Please don’t rape me.”
He rolled his eyes. “I need you to shut up and do as I say.”
“And you won’t hurt me?”
“Put it this way. If you scream or try to run, I’ll be forced to do something about it.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. He meant business. She was in shape, but she was certainly no match for this man. With a good solid grip on her arm, he leaned over and picked up the scalpel from the floor, then dragged her through the building and out to the car, where he shoved her into the passenger seat. Pulling the surgical tape from his pocket, he began to wind it around her wrists and ankles. After he was finished with that, he buckled her seatbelt and wound tape around the belt’s connection, making sure she wouldn’t be able to jump out of the car once they started down the road.
It seemed he’d thought of everything.
As soon as he turned and walked off, she struggled to get free, but it was no use. The tape wasn’t worth crap when it came to holding down eyelids or keeping mouths shut for viewing, but it sure seemed to work in a pinch if you needed to kidnap someone.
It wasn’t long before he returned with a handful of supplies, and stood again beside her open door, staring her down. “If you keep trying to get loose, I’m going to have to stick you in the trunk.”
“No. Please don’t. I promise to cooperate.” A tear ran down the side of her cheek. This was no joke. He was big and strong and there was nothing to stop him from doing her harm. For now, she would have to do as he said.
He tossed the things he was holding onto the backseat. “I need a map.”
“Nobody uses maps anymore.”
“What do they use?”