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"There's nowhere to run. I don't know where I am. There are all these abandoned buildings, and a cemetery. He's watching, too. He'll shoot me if I run." She paused. "You don't believe me. Oh God, you don't believe me."

She continued babbling. How cold am I if I admit I was ignoring her words and gauging her voice and her tone, trying to decide how genuine her plight was? Yet Ricky could hear, and he wasn't saying, Come on! We need to go help her! When I glanced over, I could tell he was assessing, too.

I made Macy go over her story again, in more detail. She'd been at a party. She'd left with a man. She didn't know who he was--it was a big party--only that he was alone and good-looking, and he'd singled her out for attention. They had a few drinks, and she was sure he must have slipped something in hers because otherwise she'd never just leave with him, especially without telling her friends.

He'd driven out of the city. She wasn't sure which way. They'd been talking and the next thing she knew they were in the countryside. He'd taken her to what looked like an army base, with lots of buildings. Then he'd gotten out and said he had to go inside and talk to someone.

After he'd left, she realized all the buildings were dark. When she'd taken a closer look at one, she'd seen boarded-up windows and doors. She'd just started to panic when a cell phone rang. It wasn't hers. She couldn't find hers. That's when she'd begun panicking for real. The phone kept ringing. She'd found it under the seat and answered. It was him.

He told her that she needed to follow his instructions and make a very important call. He gave her the directions and told her what would happen if she didn't do as he said. She started to scream. He hung up.

She'd tried to call 911, call anyone, but the phone was blocked. Hers was gone. The car keys were gone. She'd made a break for it. When she ran past the building she was supposed to enter, he shot at her, the bullet hitting the ground at her feet.

"It's--it's horrible in here," she whispered. "He left me a flashlight, but it barely does anything, and it's dark and empty and there's writing on the walls. Writing everywhere. Crazy stuff. I hear noises. I think it's only rats." A high-pitched laugh. "Only rats. I can't believe I said that. I hate rats. Bats, too, and they're everywhere, flying out when I walk into a room and--"

"Where are you now?"

"Inside. With the phone. He said if he sees me leave, he'll shoot me. I can only go when you find me. You will come, right?"

"Which building are you in?"

She told me, then continued, "He said something else, too. He said to remember Ciara. I don't know what that means. I asked him, and he wouldn't tell me, and--"

The line went dead.

--

I speed-dialed Gabriel. When the line connected, I hung up. What was he going to do? This wasn't a legal matter. I'd be dragging him into this. Forcing him to make decisions that weren't his responsibility to make.

I glanced over. Ricky hadn't said a word.

"We are awake, right?" he said.

"I think so."

"Hard to tell after that call." He paused. "Do you know what she was talking about?"

I hesitated. There was so much he didn't know. Most of which I couldn't share.

"Some of it," I said. "The name she mentioned. Ciara. She's the girl whose body I found while rescuing TC. Her death may have something to do with me or my parents. Gabriel's been helping me look into that."

"Do you want to call him?"

Yes. "This isn't a legal issue."

"Do you really think he'd tell you to handle it yourself?"

No. He'd come.

I shook my head. "I've dragged him into enough trouble. Did she sound as if she believed she was in danger?"

"Yes. The fact that it makes no sense actually supports it being real--she'd dream up a better fake story. But even if she is in danger, it's almost certainly a trap, so . . ."

He trailed off, but I knew what he was thinking. Would I risk my life for a stranger? No. Whatever brand of heroism that requires, I don't have it.

I looked down at the GPS coordinates Macy had given me. Macy. She wasn't some anonymous victim. Even if she was, I don't think I could have ignored her.


Tags: Kelley Armstrong Cainsville Fantasy