Drawing from every remaining bead of strength in her body, she was finally able to form one word before she lost her battle against the poison flowing through her veins and descended into nothingness.
“You.”
25
Ellie unlocked her apartment door, dropping her purse on the table in the foyer. Her go-bag crashed to the floor as she groaned at the release of its heavy weight. She looked at the package in her hands. The doorman had stopped her downstairs, letting her know that it had been delivered earlier that day.
She gave it a little shake, but the movement didn’t clue her in to the contents. There was no return address. Just her name scrawled on the brown paper.
A clink of dog tags announced that Sam was coming to greet her, and the big black dog scrambled around the corner, plunging into Ellie’s shins. Jamming her cold nose into Ellie’s hand, she licked her and rubbed her face along Ellie’s pant leg. She acted as if she hadn’t seen a human in a month.
Cooing to the dog, Ellie set the package down next to her purse before patting Sam’s head, keeping her fingers in the deep fur as they walked into the living room.
“Honey, I’m home.” She laughed at the inside joke, her voice carrying down the hall. “You were right, traffic was a mess, even for a Friday.”
When she was met with silence, she frowned and checked her watch. It had been over an hour since she’d last spoke with Jillian. She’d expected her friend to beat her home, but except for Sam, who was standing by the door wagging her tail as if she needed to be walked desperately, the apartment was empty.
Thinking maybe Jillian stopped to get takeout or got waylaid at the store, Ellie grabbed Sam’s leash. If the insane traffic was any indication of how the rest of Charleston was handling Friday the thirteenth, every place was probably packed.
Ellie fished her phone out of her purse, her thumb swiping over the keyboard with rapid precision as she fired off a text to Jillian. Taking Sam out. If you grabbed food, call me when you get home, and I’ll help you bring it upstairs.
She fastened the leash to Sam’s collar and hurried down the hall with the dog pulling her at a fast clip. By the time they made it to the ground floor, Sam was whimpering. She half dragged Ellie to a patch of grass, stopping at the edge instead of the middle like she normally did. Her face was the picture of relief as she squatted and let nature take its course.
“Couldn’t hold it anymore, huh, girl?” Ellie frowned, checking her watch again and thinking back to their conversation. Jillian had said she pulled an all-nighter. That meant Sam had been in the apartment far longer than she was used to. It wasn’t like Jillian to leave her for so long, and especially strange when she’d said she was coming home to let Sam out.
So, where was she?
Ellie’s stomach was twisting itself into knots by the time Sam was ready to head back inside. Digging her phone out of her pocket, she was surprised to see her text had gone unread. She scowled, checking her call log to see if she’d missed a call from Jillian, but there was nothing. Dialing Jillian’s number, Ellie stopped in the lobby, waiting for her to answer. Biting her lip, she counted five rings before there was a click as the call was transferred to voicemail.
“You’ve reached Jillian Reed with Charleston PD. Please leave your message and I’ll return your call shortly.” Her voice was cool and professional, trademark Jillian.
Ellie took a breath, waiting for the beep. “Hey, Jillian, it’s me. Listen, I’m getting worried. Sam hadn’t been out yet, and I thought you’d be here by now. Call me, okay?”
Racing up the stairs to her floor, she kept the phone in one hand and Sam’s leash in the other, just in case Jillian called back. But she made it to the front door with no text and no return call, leaving her with a growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Jillian was never late, and even when something came up, she always made sure Sam was cared for. This just wasn’t like her.
She was about to dial again when a phone rang. But it wasn’t the one in her hand.
Turning around in a circle, she located the sound. It was coming from the forgotten package she’d left by the door.
Anxiety crawled up her spine as she took a tentative step closer to the box. The ringing stopped, and a second later, her own phone vibrated in her hand, making her jump.
She glanced at the screen. It was a message from Jillian. Answer the phone. The message was followed by a picture. Ellie gasped as she found herself staring at a picture of Jillian tied to a chair.
The phone in the box started ringing again.
On legs that felt like water, Ellie lunged for the box and tore off the paper. She knew that she was destroying evidence and she should be wearing gloves, but she didn’t care. She had to talk to her friend.
She was being Facetimed.
“Where’s Jillian?” she demanded the second she answered the video call.
A low, ominous chuckle vibrated through the speaker. An icy chill ran the length of her spine and settled in her stomach as an eerily familiar voice taunted, “Jillian is fine, Ellie. But she won’t be for long.” The screen was dark, but she could hear every word clearly.
She hadn’t heard his voice in years, but she would know it anywhere. As she stared at the front door in disbelief, she was suddenly fifteen again, tied to a chair, with chemicals being pumped into her body. Controlled like a lifeless puppet. Helpless, completely at his mercy, and paralyzed by her fear.
Shaking her head, she forced the memories of her worst-nightmare-come-to-life aside, focusing on the man on the
