the sound of his name on my tongue. “What do you want me to do when we stop?”
“Won’t know till we get there.”
I gazed at him, an amazing thought leaking into my head. After his intensive planning to steal me in a jeweler’s van right off a guarded estate, now he didn’t seem to know what happened next. He obviously hadn’t expected something to go wrong. And he had no Plan B.
Every good schemer had a Plan B.
I could use this. How, I didn’t know yet. But I would use it.
The clock on the dashboard read 9:35 a.m. That would be Utah time. If we had still been in the Explorer, the clock would have read 8:35. The Explorer’s was the time that counted. It was California time. Home time.
“What state are we in?” I asked.
“Idaho.”
Idaho. A long state. Were we still in south Idaho?
I told myself we were. Southern Idaho was closer to Mom and Dad than northern Idaho.
Finally ahead I saw a sign for the town of Rigby. “Please stop. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”
“Say nothin’ to nobody, that’s what. Walk with your head down like before.”
“You’ll need to cut off these ropes.”
We reached the town. Joshua slowed and turned off the highway, following a sign for a gas station. We drove down a street with businesses on either side. People were on the sidewalks, going in and out of buildings. So close to me. As we stopped at a red light, one woman even met my eyes. Silently, I pleaded with her. Have you seen my picture on the news? It’s me, Shaley! Help me!
For a hovering second, I thought I’d fling myself toward the door, tumble out of the car. But my hands were tied, and the door no doubt was locked. And that gun by his feet…
The woman turned away. My heart sank.
With a dull stare I focused out the windshield. “There’s the gas station.” “I see it.”
Joshua pulled into the station and parked on the far side, away from other cars. He opened the glove compartment and took out a folded knife. Flicked it open. The blade shot out, six inches long and glistening.
I stilled. The whole time we’d been in the Explorer, I hadn’t known he had that.
Joshua hoisted around in his seat. “Put your hands on the console.”
After a long look into his eyes, I obeyed.
He brought the knife to the rope, and in two quick slices cut through it. The relief from that tightness! Joshua unwound the pieces and tossed them on the floor. I pressed fingers around onethrobbing wrist, then gasped at the even greater pain. The raw skin felt like a burn.
Joshua focused over my shoulder through the back windshield. “Bathrooms are on this side. I’ll take you now. Then we’re walking back to the car, and I’ll get gas.” He gave me a hard look.
“Okay.”
We got out of the car and walked straight to the bathrooms, Joshua’s arm brushing against mine. He smelled of grime and sweat. Joshua knocked on the door to the ladies’ room, heard no reply, then opened it. Looked inside. A one-toilet bathroom. “Go.” He pushed my back. “Don’t lock it.”
I scurried inside, ready to pop, thanking God I’d made it. Even after I was done using the toilet, my lower back still hurt. I washed my hands, avoiding the mirror. I glanced around, wishing there was some way I could leave a message. But I had nothing to write with, nothing to use to scratch the wall. And if I took too long, Joshua would come in to check.
Reluctantly I stepped back outside. Joshua stood waiting. “Don’t you have to go?”
He gave me a twisted smile. “Already did, while you were in there. You think I’d leave you alone?”
Grasping my elbow, he propelled me back to the sedan. “Head down.”
My chin dropped, but my eyes looked up toward the license plate. From the state of Utah. As we drew closer I could read Olympic Winter Games 2002 below the plate numbers. To the left was the five-ring circle logo of the Olympics. I stared at the numbers and letters, branding them into my brain. Only five
“Won’t know till we get there.”
I gazed at him, an amazing thought leaking into my head. After his intensive planning to steal me in a jeweler’s van right off a guarded estate, now he didn’t seem to know what happened next. He obviously hadn’t expected something to go wrong. And he had no Plan B.
Every good schemer had a Plan B.
I could use this. How, I didn’t know yet. But I would use it.
The clock on the dashboard read 9:35 a.m. That would be Utah time. If we had still been in the Explorer, the clock would have read 8:35. The Explorer’s was the time that counted. It was California time. Home time.
“What state are we in?” I asked.
“Idaho.”
Idaho. A long state. Were we still in south Idaho?
I told myself we were. Southern Idaho was closer to Mom and Dad than northern Idaho.
Finally ahead I saw a sign for the town of Rigby. “Please stop. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”
“Say nothin’ to nobody, that’s what. Walk with your head down like before.”
“You’ll need to cut off these ropes.”
We reached the town. Joshua slowed and turned off the highway, following a sign for a gas station. We drove down a street with businesses on either side. People were on the sidewalks, going in and out of buildings. So close to me. As we stopped at a red light, one woman even met my eyes. Silently, I pleaded with her. Have you seen my picture on the news? It’s me, Shaley! Help me!
For a hovering second, I thought I’d fling myself toward the door, tumble out of the car. But my hands were tied, and the door no doubt was locked. And that gun by his feet…
The woman turned away. My heart sank.
With a dull stare I focused out the windshield. “There’s the gas station.” “I see it.”
Joshua pulled into the station and parked on the far side, away from other cars. He opened the glove compartment and took out a folded knife. Flicked it open. The blade shot out, six inches long and glistening.
I stilled. The whole time we’d been in the Explorer, I hadn’t known he had that.
Joshua hoisted around in his seat. “Put your hands on the console.”
After a long look into his eyes, I obeyed.
He brought the knife to the rope, and in two quick slices cut through it. The relief from that tightness! Joshua unwound the pieces and tossed them on the floor. I pressed fingers around onethrobbing wrist, then gasped at the even greater pain. The raw skin felt like a burn.
Joshua focused over my shoulder through the back windshield. “Bathrooms are on this side. I’ll take you now. Then we’re walking back to the car, and I’ll get gas.” He gave me a hard look.
“Okay.”
We got out of the car and walked straight to the bathrooms, Joshua’s arm brushing against mine. He smelled of grime and sweat. Joshua knocked on the door to the ladies’ room, heard no reply, then opened it. Looked inside. A one-toilet bathroom. “Go.” He pushed my back. “Don’t lock it.”
I scurried inside, ready to pop, thanking God I’d made it. Even after I was done using the toilet, my lower back still hurt. I washed my hands, avoiding the mirror. I glanced around, wishing there was some way I could leave a message. But I had nothing to write with, nothing to use to scratch the wall. And if I took too long, Joshua would come in to check.
Reluctantly I stepped back outside. Joshua stood waiting. “Don’t you have to go?”
He gave me a twisted smile. “Already did, while you were in there. You think I’d leave you alone?”
Grasping my elbow, he propelled me back to the sedan. “Head down.”
My chin dropped, but my eyes looked up toward the license plate. From the state of Utah. As we drew closer I could read Olympic Winter Games 2002 below the plate numbers. To the left was the five-ring circle logo of the Olympics. I stared at the numbers and letters, branding them into my brain. Only five
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