Page 32 of Love Overboard
She trained her phone on Jon. “You’re strong. Can’t you break it open?”
“That door is made of metal.” He squinted against the light and pushed her hand down. “A fractured shoulder might hinder my work performance. Why don’t you call somebody?”
“Right.” Lacey laughed while she pulled up her favorites list. “I’m not thinking straight. I’ll call my roommate. She can come let us out.”
“Does she have a key?”
Lacey paused. “No. I’m not sure who does, but Abby can find out.” She punched the name and drummed her finger against the side of the phone as it rang.
“Pick up,” she muttered. “Pick up. Pick up. Pick—Abby? Can you come to the lost-and-found storage? We’re locked in here. Hello, Abby?”
Jon moved around in the darkness while she talked. “Can you point your phone over here?”
Lacey switched her phone to speaker mode and shone the light on the wall. Jon located the switch and flicked it. Nothing happened. He tried again.
Down. Up. Down. Up.
Still nothing.
He flicked it one last time. “They must not have changed the bulbs in a while.”
Lacey tapped the speaker off and held the phone to her ear.
“Abby, wake up!” She stomped her foot against the tile floor and spoke very slowly when her roommate answered. “Jon and I are locked in the lost and found. Find someone with a key and get us out … Of course we didn’t do it on purpose. It was … we were … it’s too complicated to explain. Please come get us.”
Lacey ended the call and held the flashlight at eye level. “Abby’s pretty useless after eleven o’clock. Even she admits it.” She explored the contents of the room. “Maybe there’s a spare key inside here for emergencies.”
She traced the walls and racks with the beam from her light, but no key appeared. The scent of mildew and aging leather filled the room. Her throat tightened as the towering shelves of junk closed in on her. She grabbed a red-and-white-checkered tablecloth and waved it around.
“Who would bring this on a Caribbean cruise?”
Jon shrugged. “Someone who wanted to go on a picnic?”
How had she wound up locked in a glorified closet with Jonathan King? It was as if someone wanted to—
Her confusion at the unexpected imprisonment cleared as the puzzle pieces snapped together.
“Wait a minute. Why did Emily text you if she’d already called me?” Lacey pinched the bridge of her nose, and the air rattled in her throat as she exhaled.
“You mean they—” Jon laughed out loud and slapped his hand against the door. “I think I’ve watched this scene in one of those cheesy holiday movies my sister adores.”
“Emily and her accomplices must’ve bought a ticket for the same movie.” Lacey threw the tablecloth on a shelf and sank to one of the few empty spaces on the floor, right next to the entrance. “They. Will. Pay.”
“Why do you always assume the Shippers are doing it on purpose?” Jon sat next to her in the darkened room, leaned his head back too hard, and banged it against the wall. “Ow!”
“Are you okay?” Lacey stirred beside him.
“Fine. I misjudged the distance.”
Lacey half-heartedly thumped on the door once more. “Help! Anyone there?”
“Give it a rest, Lace. Who’s going to be checking the lost and found at three in the morning?”
The light flickered and disappeared.
“What—” She checked her phone. “No. No. No!”
“What’s wrong?”
