Page 107 of Serial Burn

Thecleantile floor. In fact, the bathroom fairly sparkled.

Okay then.

She waited a few more minutes to make sure her stomach was going to behave, then awkwardly rinsed her mouth, wishing she could take her gear off. The water in the sink ran clean, so she drank deeply, getting her fill, then turned to walk to the door, thankful he hadn’t bound her feet.

She eased the blinds aside and glanced out, surprised to see a large warehouse-type area filled to the brim with—she squinted—pool supplies and other assorted chemicals. Was this the arsonist’s stash? Had to be, but wherewasshe?

She tried the knob. Locked. Of course.

Jesslyn pulled in calming breaths. Screaming and pounding on the door would get her nowhere. And might bring her abductor.

So no screaming and pounding. She could do that later when she was safe.

If she ever got safe.

She looked at her wrists. The cuffs needed to come off.

She shot a glance at the desk, then at the window one more time. She could break the glass easy enough, but there was no way she’d be able to slide through the narrow opening. Not in her gear. Sweat dripped down her temples and neck.

Maybe. She might have to try.

A watercooler in the corner gurgled. In the opposite corner, there was a coffee station with a Keurig. She pulled open the double doors of the cabinet. A small bag of sugar, enough K-cups to last her forever, and packets of fake cream. There were also to-go cups and a box of stir sticks along with birthday plates and napkins.

She shut the doors, then hurried to the desk and pulled a drawer open. Empty. She tried them all and heard something rattle in thelast one. She reached into the very back and scooped out birthday candles and a book of matches. Well, three matches.

Wow. Helpful. She tossed them back in. She would have preferred a stapler or a safety pin or a paper clip. She shut the drawer and pressed her palms to her forehead.Think, Jess.

Nathan would have noticed her absence by now and started looking for her. He’d probably alerted everyone else and they’d be searching too. But where would they even start?Shedidn’t even know.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. She darted around to the other side of the desk to keep it between her and whoever entered the room.

Of course if they had a gun, the desk wasn’t going to be much protection, but maybe she could toss it over on him if she had to. She tested how heavy it was and couldn’t budge it. Okay, no tossing.

More sweat beaded on her brow even as she shivered and her palms slicked with a combination of nerves and fear.God, help me, please.

The door opened and a man stepped into the room. Her eyes widened. “You?”

Professor Derek Morgan nodded. “Hi, Jesslyn.”

“What in the world? Why would you want to kill me?”

“I don’t.”

Okay. Right. She leaned forward and placed her cuffed hands on the desk, a plan forming. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.”

“No, not really. I know you’re a professor at the local university and you used your students to set fires.”

He blinked. “They didn’t set the fires. Kenny was just there to watch and leave the jewelry. He didn’t know why, of course. Just that I needed him to do that and keep his mouth shut about it.”

Could he be any more cryptic? “So you set them? And why leave the jewelry?” She hesitated. The Morgans were on the list. “You lived in my neighborhood, didn’t you? Your mom was the woman he was seeing, wasn’t she?”

“So many questions. It doesn’t matter who set them. And yes, she was. I was thirteen when I knew something was wrong with my family—between my parents. And when I found out your father drove my father deeper into the bottom of a bottle and turned his fists even harder ... well, that wasn’t a good feeling.”

Her heart ached for the confused child he’d been, but fear of the man he’d become pounded through her. “Why take me?”

“Because I need you.”

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