He glaredat her and continued rifling through her personal stuff.
“What are these for?” The killer held out a bottle of pills, giving it a shake, and she felt her entire face turn hot and red. She felt nauseous. “They’re diet pills,” she whispered. She didn’t need to be told they didn’t work. She’d tried everything, and those were her last resort next to getting her stomach stapled.
The world seemed to stop spinning. He looked her up anddown, inch by fat inch, then tossed the pills over his shoulder.
“Hey,” she said.
He ignored her, and she didn’t push her luck. This man had just sliced up that man upstairs and he could do the same to her.
“Who do you live with?” He examined her driver’s license. It was expired. She just didn’t have any free time to get things done. Rent was expensive, so she took every extra shift she could, like tonight.
“Nobody.”
“You’re lying.”
She shook her head. The threat in his voice made her eyes start to water again. “I swear. I don’t even have a pet because of my allergies. It’s just me and my … fish.”
Hecocked his head.
It was the dumbest thing, but she worried about who’d feed Fred once she was dead. No one would check onCleo, no one would care. A wave of sadness washed over her as the reality of her situation really hit home. Not a single person would remember her.
“Ijust want to go home.” Tears traced down her cheek.
“Who’ll notice you’ve gone missing?”
“I don’t want to go missing,” she said.
“Answer the question.”
More tears fell. She wasn’t sure if she was more sorry for herself or embarrassed. If he knew the truth, he’d have no reason to keep her alive.
“Lots of people,” she managed to squeak out.
When he cocked an eyebrow, she tried her best to keep herself in check. Did he know she was lying?
“Who? Names.”
“I-I don’t know…” She busied herself collecting the contents of her purse from the floor before standing up again.
“We’re done here.” He spun her around. “Back to the elevator. Hit P3.”
Oh God, this was it. He was taking her to a second location, the number one thing to avoid in the emergency handbook for women. Would he rape her? Chop her up? Or slit her throat like that poor man upstairs?
“Good night, Cleo,” said one of the maintenance men from the other end of the hall.
“Good night, George,” she replied.
The elevator door closed, and any hope of rescue was gone.
The parking garage had never been this foreboding. Her kidnapper blended into the shadows, and her white uniform stood out like a target. He stopped at a black car and opened the passenger door.
“Put your seatbelt on.” He slammed the door shut behind her.
The car had a deeply masculine scent. It must be his scent. She wanted to hate it but couldn’t. A few seconds later, he sat in the driver’s seat, his large frame rubbing up against her arm.
His cellphone went off as he drove out of the parking garage.
“Yeah. It’s done. Message sent loud and clear.”