eye—early-morning sunlight on the windshield of a moving car.
Two cars. The Land Rover, its tire replaced, and a BMW sedan.
They weren’t messing around, were they?
Vanessa stepped outside and stood on the porch, the CPU clutched to her chest. It disguised the presence of the bulky body armor she wore under her jacket—the only giveaway that she’d trusted the police enough to go to them, in spite of Virgil’s plot to drive her far from any means of help by branding her the murderer.
The morning breeze played with Vanessa’s hair, and the sunlight set her cheeks aglow. Eric knew she had to be terrified, but he also knew she’d do anything to keep her kids safe. Affection rose inside him. He had to tell her how he felt, just as soon as this was over.
The vehicles parked at odd angles, the Land Rover mostly in front of the sedan, and Virgil stepped out. Eric couldn’t make out his words from this distance, but the man held Vanessa’s attention.
Meanwhile, the back door of the sedan opened, out of sight from the cabin. Vanessa couldn’t see the man who crept out of the vehicle. Cold fear gripped Eric’s heart as he saw a man duck low, crouching just out of Vanessa’s sight, a gun clutched in his hand.
TEN
V anessa focused on taking slow, deliberate steps through the cabin doorway, out onto the small porch. She was trembling so hard, they could probably see her fear from the car. From her years of being around these guys and Jeff, she knew their limits, knew they needed to feel respected and obeyed, or they’d snap.
Given the guns they carried, she didn’t want them to snap. But she also didn’t want to hand over the CPU until the FBI arrived. It might not take more than a couple of seconds for them to realize the slimline cover held books instead of a hard drive.
Virgil stared her down from his position near the vehicle. He wasn’t coming any closer—why not? Were they hoping she’d get so close they could pull her into the car? Or did he suspect she wasn’t truly alone? Virgil cleared his throat with a harsh sound. “You’re sure you didn’t make a copy of any of the information on the computer?”
“How would I even know how to do that? You guys have kept me locked in a basement for the last eight years.” Vanessa wanted to scream, but she kept her voice steady, watching Virgil’s hands, still far from the gun that seemed to wink at her from under his jacket every time Virgil moved his arms.
They surely had more guns, too. The vehicles had tinted windows, and the car was almost completely obscured by the SUV. She didn’t like it.
Most of all, she didn’t like that she couldn’t see any sign of Arthur Sherman. If he didn’t come, what was the point? If they didn’t catch him, she’d never be free, not really.
“What about your friend Eric? This is his cabin.”
“He didn’t want me to call you. He’s not here.” The words were all true. Eric had been quite against her calling Virgil, at least in the beginning. And he wasn’t technically at the cabin, but in the woods behind it, where she hoped he’d be safe.
“See, that’s what concerns me. You don’t know where he is, and I don’t know that he doesn’t have copies of everything on that computer. You’re about to hand it over to me—why?” Virgil took one step closer to the porch, then another.
“I want you to leave me and my kids alone.” Vanessa couldn’t help wondering why, if the criminals figured she’d made copies of the evidence already anyway, they’d bother to show up today. To get the computer back, obviously. And to get what answers they could from her. And then what? She couldn’t imagine they’d let her live once they had what they came for.
She raised her eyes just high enough to see past the Land Rover to the road beyond. Still no sign of the FBI. Virgil and his men had arrived precisely when they said they would. If the FBI was on time, they should get there any moment. Were they holding
Two cars. The Land Rover, its tire replaced, and a BMW sedan.
They weren’t messing around, were they?
Vanessa stepped outside and stood on the porch, the CPU clutched to her chest. It disguised the presence of the bulky body armor she wore under her jacket—the only giveaway that she’d trusted the police enough to go to them, in spite of Virgil’s plot to drive her far from any means of help by branding her the murderer.
The morning breeze played with Vanessa’s hair, and the sunlight set her cheeks aglow. Eric knew she had to be terrified, but he also knew she’d do anything to keep her kids safe. Affection rose inside him. He had to tell her how he felt, just as soon as this was over.
The vehicles parked at odd angles, the Land Rover mostly in front of the sedan, and Virgil stepped out. Eric couldn’t make out his words from this distance, but the man held Vanessa’s attention.
Meanwhile, the back door of the sedan opened, out of sight from the cabin. Vanessa couldn’t see the man who crept out of the vehicle. Cold fear gripped Eric’s heart as he saw a man duck low, crouching just out of Vanessa’s sight, a gun clutched in his hand.
TEN
V anessa focused on taking slow, deliberate steps through the cabin doorway, out onto the small porch. She was trembling so hard, they could probably see her fear from the car. From her years of being around these guys and Jeff, she knew their limits, knew they needed to feel respected and obeyed, or they’d snap.
Given the guns they carried, she didn’t want them to snap. But she also didn’t want to hand over the CPU until the FBI arrived. It might not take more than a couple of seconds for them to realize the slimline cover held books instead of a hard drive.
Virgil stared her down from his position near the vehicle. He wasn’t coming any closer—why not? Were they hoping she’d get so close they could pull her into the car? Or did he suspect she wasn’t truly alone? Virgil cleared his throat with a harsh sound. “You’re sure you didn’t make a copy of any of the information on the computer?”
“How would I even know how to do that? You guys have kept me locked in a basement for the last eight years.” Vanessa wanted to scream, but she kept her voice steady, watching Virgil’s hands, still far from the gun that seemed to wink at her from under his jacket every time Virgil moved his arms.
They surely had more guns, too. The vehicles had tinted windows, and the car was almost completely obscured by the SUV. She didn’t like it.
Most of all, she didn’t like that she couldn’t see any sign of Arthur Sherman. If he didn’t come, what was the point? If they didn’t catch him, she’d never be free, not really.
“What about your friend Eric? This is his cabin.”
“He didn’t want me to call you. He’s not here.” The words were all true. Eric had been quite against her calling Virgil, at least in the beginning. And he wasn’t technically at the cabin, but in the woods behind it, where she hoped he’d be safe.
“See, that’s what concerns me. You don’t know where he is, and I don’t know that he doesn’t have copies of everything on that computer. You’re about to hand it over to me—why?” Virgil took one step closer to the porch, then another.
“I want you to leave me and my kids alone.” Vanessa couldn’t help wondering why, if the criminals figured she’d made copies of the evidence already anyway, they’d bother to show up today. To get the computer back, obviously. And to get what answers they could from her. And then what? She couldn’t imagine they’d let her live once they had what they came for.
She raised her eyes just high enough to see past the Land Rover to the road beyond. Still no sign of the FBI. Virgil and his men had arrived precisely when they said they would. If the FBI was on time, they should get there any moment. Were they holding
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