Page 139 of Nothing to Fear

She read it once and twice and still it didn’t make sense. It did but she couldn’t understand what it meant.

“That’s it? Who was he? Did he leave a name or a number? What did he sound like? Did he have an accent?”

The clerk just slouched in her chair and returned to scrolling through her phone. “Nope. He sounded like a guy, just a guy.”

Heart racing, her mouth opened to allow in short pants. Her throat got smaller, tighter. This couldn’t be, how could this be happening? The only vestige of hope that remained seemed unlikely. It couldn’t possibly be… God, she had to hold onto something.

Rushing away from the office, her hands shook as she turned the room key and closed the door behind her. She flung the paper to the bed and scrambled over to the nightstand to pull her purse from the bottom drawer.

She yanked out her phone and turned it on. God, it seemed to take an age to show its shining, too bright, symbol of life. Panic reigned when it asked for her passcode, she fumbled the first attempt and took a deep breath before the second. The last thing she needed was to lock herself out.

Patience. Easy. Breathe. The home screen flashed for less than a second, she’d already stabbed the call button and scrolled to his number. Clutching the device in both hands, she held it tight to the side of her face, pressing herself against the side of the mattress. She hadn’t even got up off the floor.

It rang once. Twice.

Then he answered, “Cherry?”

“Say it was you,” she said so quickly the words were almost one syllable. “Please tell me it was you. Breckenridge men don’tgive up. Just say it was you, Gentleman, please, tell me it was you, and it will be okay again. I’ll be okay again.”

“Slow down,” he said with a depth of concern. “Where are you? What happened?”

“At the apartment, the fridge, that was you,” she said, “and upstairs. The drawer, the underwear. The chocolate. The call.” Suddenly, everything was suspicious. The oxygen thinned as the air got thicker. Why couldn’t she draw in breath? Why couldn’t she fill her lungs? “That was all you, right? Tell me it was you. I’ll believe you. You have a key. You’re the only one with a key. Please. Please, Darroch. Tell me it was you.”

Yet her heart betrayed the opposite.

“Something happened at the apartment?” he murmured her words without recognition. “Baby, where are you?”

His alarm freed the tears from her lashes. “A motel in White Plains.”

“Share your location to this phone. We have a chopper on permanent standby. I’m coming to you.”

“What? But I—”

“I’m on my way. Wherever you are, just stay there. Lock the door, the windows, close the curtains. Don’t open the door to anyone but me. No one, baby.”

“I—” she stuttered. “Okay.” At least with a plan, she had a focus. “I don’t know how I—”

“I’ll help you. It’s okay. Can you share your location?”

“I don’t know how to—”

“We’ll do it together.”

He talked her through the steps to give him her location. When it was done, he said he’d be there soon, then silence.

“Darroch?”

He was gone.

She was alone.

God, she better be alone.

Phone still clutched to the side of her head, the nook between the nightstand and the bed seems safer than anywhere else.

He hadn’t said it was him. He hadn’t said it wasn’t.

Why would he do those things? Hadn’t she considered and discounted his involvement with each individual event? Why had she called him? What a stupid, stupid—ridiculous, pathetic. Why hadn’t she called the cops? Why hadn’t she packed her stuff and gone somewhere else?

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