True, she thought. He’d had plenty of opportunities.
He knelt down, double and triple taped her ankles, then looked up at her. “If I leave you here there’s absolutely no reason for you not to call the police. I need to get to California and prove my innocence. I’m sorry, I really am, but you’re coming with me.”
She sighed.
“I’m not a killer,” he repeated.
“So, you’re a kidnapper then.”
The look in his eyes made her shudder. “This is the only way. After I’ve talked to my lawyer, you’ll be free to go. I’m not spending the rest of my life in prison for a murder I didn’t commit.”
“Who did you kill? I mean, who do they believe you killed?”
“One of my partners—Dirk Taylor.”
Once he finished taping her ankles, he didn’t bother with her wrists. He searched through her closet, found some of Rob’s clothes, and headed for the bathroom. With the door shut, she could hear water running.
She bent down to try and rip the tape off, but he’d used too damn much of it. She couldn’t make a dent. She looked around the room and then remembered that there were nail clippers in the top drawer of the bedside table. There used to be pepper spray in the drawer, too, but she’d given it to her roommate since Julie sometimes had to work late at night.
Angela fell back onto the mattress, stretching her arms above her head, and straining every muscle as she reached for the drawer.
It was no use.
Her gaze fell on the pen sitting on her nightstand next to her alarm clock. She pulled the lamp cord in hopes of sliding the pen closer. The lamp toppled over and crashed to the floor.
The bathroom door shot open.
She sat up.
Their gazes locked.
Seeing him dressed in jeans and a T-shirt was unsettling. He looked human…normal…like a regular guy, except for his eyes. They were dark, and his expression was even darker.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
He looked at the lamp on the floor. “You’re definitely riding in the trunk.”
She was claustrophobic. She didn’t do well in dark places.
Frustration lined his face, but he turned and went back inside the bathroom. This time he left the door open. She could see him shaving and then using her toothbrush. Was nothing sacred with this man?
When he came back into the room, she noticed that Rob’s T-shirt and jeans were a little snug, but overall the clothes fit just as she’d thought they would. Nobody would guess he was a convicted murderer.
He grabbed a nylon bag with a zipper that she kept in her closet for short trips and filled it with Rob’s clothes. He also found a pair of Rob’s sneakers that he’d left at her place in case he ever wanted to take a run.
“A little big, but not bad,” he said after slipping them on. “What do you want to take?”
She was sitting on the edge of the bed again. “How long will I be gone?”
“At least a week. Maybe two.”
Her shoulders dropped. “That’s a long time. People will be looking for me. You can’t possibly think you can get away with this.”
“You’ve got two seconds to tell me what to grab or you’re bringing nothing more than what you’re wearing.”
“Geez.” She pointed to the chair in the corner. “I’ll need that bra over there and some more underwear and Tshirts. They’re inside the third dresser drawer. A sweatshirt would be nice, and my favorite sweater. The black one right there, hanging in the closet. You can put it all in the backpack…the one over there by the door.”
While she talked and pointed, he grabbed her things and shoved them in the backpack. He also collected toiletries and a couple of towels. After he left the room to gather food for the long drive, she could hear him rattling around in the kitchen.
“My boyfriend did say he was coming over today,” she shouted. “Despite the message you heard, he’s been begging me to come back to him and I’m pretty sure he’ll be here any minute now.”
The phone rang.
All was quiet. No more moving around in the kitchen.
“Hey, Babe, I mean Angi, it’s me again. I’ve been trying to call you on your cell, but I thought I should try your home phone, too.” There were muffled sounds in the background before he continued. “I promise, this is the last time I’ll call. I just need you to know it was never my intention to hurt you. For months things haven’t been right between us. You can’t deny it. We’re two different people. You never wanted to do anything adventurous and—ow!” It was obvious that someone, Christine, no doubt, was trying to stop the jerk from blabbing on. “Anyhow,” Rob continued, “I mostly just called to tell you I’m sorry.”
There was a beep and then Dead Man Running was back in the room, cutting her ties. Glancing up at her face, he said, “Don’t you dare cry. That guy is a dick.”
“I really don’t know what he was talking about.”
“You’re better off without him.”