“Thanks. I’ll do that.”
Will hurried back outside to the car and pulled to the side near the entrance door. It took him three tries to get the card to work, but the door finally opened. He hurried down the hall to the second door on the left, slid the card into the slot, and pushed open the door.
It was a typical motel room with two queen beds, a dresser, an upholstered chair, and a desk and desk chair. On the bed nearest the door were two Dillard’s bags. Will upended the biggest one, and a pair of jeans and a short-sleeve tee fell out on the bed. The smaller one contained socks and underwear.
He scanned the room. Artie had installed cameras. He was sure of it. How he’d gained access to the room was anyone’s guess, but he’d probably lifted a master key from a housekeeper or even bribed staff to give him one. For that matter, he could have rented the room himself while he installed the cameras, then simply asked staff to leave the Dillard’s purchases in the room.
Will checked the lamps, the TV, and the mirror above the dresser, but he didn’t find anything. A sprinkler head in the ceiling was a possibility, as was the overhead light just inside the door and the smoke alarm. Or a camera could be concealed in one of the pictures on the walls or…
He let it go. They were there. He was sure of that. Artie was watching him.
The phone rang.
“Take it off, big boy,” the sultry voice purred. “Put me on speaker, and take it all off.”
He removed his suit jacket, and the voice instructed him to lay it and the rest of his clothing on the other bed. Not taking any chance that I’ll slip a tracker into the new stuff, Will thought. He removed his tie, shirt, and undershirt, then sat down on the bed, untied his Oxfords, and slipped out of them. It hadn’t escaped his notice that the Dillard’s bags had not contained any shoes. Maybe Artie hadn’t felt like he could guess a shoe size as well as he could guess the sizes of shirts and jeans. It gave Will hope that he might be able to hang onto the insoles.
He left the shoes by the bed as he slipped out of his suit pants and briefs. He started to reach for the clothing on the other bed, but the voice stopped him.
“Step over by the window,” it said. “Hold your arms out and turn around. Slowly.”
Will did as instructed, wondering if the camera was in the HVAC unit under the window.
“Good boy,” the sultry voice said. “Now get dressed.”
Will wasted no time doing as ordered. What he’d just had to do was humiliating, but he could live with it. He would do whatever it took to get Jen away from the monster that Artie had become.
After he was dressed, he sat down on the bed and started to slip on his shoes, but the sultry female voice stopped him.
“No shoes yet, big boy. Pick ‘em up and shake them for me.”
Will did as instructed.
“Now twist the heel on each one. Pull on it good.”
Will did.
“Good boy. What are those—a ten? An eleven?”
“Eleven,” Will managed to get out between gritted teeth.
“Big feet.” The sultry voice giggled. “Guess what they say about judging the size of a man’s wand by his feet is true.”
“Now what?” Will said.
“Oh, just chill for a bit, sweetie. Put your shoes on, and go sit in that nice chair by the window. I’ll call you back in a few.”
The phone went dead.
Will did as he was told. He collapsed into the upholstered chair and bent forward, his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. Was Jen still alive? Artie had taken her to bait him, but that didn’t mean he’d leave her alive. He’d know that as long as Will had hope that she might be, that would be enough. If he hadn’t shown interest in her, Artie wouldn’t have seen her as bait. It would be his fault if something happened to her. He should have kept it strictly professional. He should have known—
No, he thought, sitting up straight and dropped his hands. No. I couldn’t have known. It never occurred to me in all the years since that night in Minneapolis that Artie would be out for revenge.
Blaming himself was only going to make him careless. He needed to keep his wits about him because when the time came, he would do what he had to do to save Jen. And if she was already dead—well, he would do what he had to do to make sure Artie never saw the inside of a courtroom.
CHAPTER 56
Pain.
As she came back to consciousness, Jen’s world was filled with pain. Her head throbbed and her body stung from the cuts and abrasions she’d sustained being dragged over gravel, but the pain in her face made the rest seem no more important than a hangnail. Blood clogged her nose, forcing her to breathe through her mouth, and her right cheek throbbed. She’d bitten his left hand, and he’d used it to hit her, so the right side of her face had taken the brunt of the blow. What surprised her was that he seemed to have stopped with only one hit. She’d seen what he’d done to the others, so why had he stopped?
Had he stopped because she’d passed out? Maybe, but the others would have passed out at some point, and he hadn’t stopped with them. But then they’d been inside their homes. While she didn’t know where they’d been when he struck her, she knew it had been outside. Maybe he’d been afraid they’d be seen.
She struggled to a sitting position, noting that her hands were cuffed behind
