“Good.”
Boone’s phone buzzed again. “It’s Cab.” He put it on speakerphone.
Walker’s pulse leaped.
“I’ve got the state police on the case.” Cab’s voice was staticky but audible. “They’re getting their choppers out. We’ll have blockades on the surrounding highways pretty soon.”
“No sightings?”
“No sightings,” Cab confirmed. “Hang in there. Be safe. We’ll find her.”
The next call came from Savannah. “We’ve got a room at the community center where we can coordinate with all the volunteers. Maud and James have offered to bring the food and drinks they were going to serve at the wedding for the search parties. They’ve got Avery’s parents with them. It’s already becoming a major operation. Everyone’s helping us look.”
“Tell people to check their outbuildings,” Walker said, eyeing a barn as they drove past. “There’s a million hiding places they could go.” There was still no one in sight. Had they chosen the wrong direction? Had Avery’s captors already pulled off the main road and hidden somewhere?
Or were they still ahead of him?
He accelerated again.
“They’d have to hide their vehicle,” Boone pointed out.
“Millions of places to do that,” Walker said. “Get everyone to check their own properties as best they can,” he told Savannah. “But tell them to be careful!”
“Will do,” Savannah said. “We’re heading over with the Russells to the community center.”
“Okay. Stay safe.” Boone cut the call. “We’ll find her,” he assured Walker. “I swear.”
But would they find her in time?
Avery’s stomach growled.
For heaven’s sake, she thought. She was in a life-or-death crisis here. What did her stomach want?
Food.
It growled again.
She’d barely eaten today. Should be eating her wedding dinner right about now.
Should be married to Walker.
A sob welled up in her throat, but she forced it down. She wouldn’t give these men the satisfaction of knowing how terrified she was—and how angry.
She wanted Walker’s ring on her finger. Wanted to be in his arms. She was supposed to spend her life with him—
Not get shot in the bedroom of a stupid vacation rental.
Mr. Smith was listening to his phone again.
“Well?” Owen demanded.
“Still not picking up.”
On the television screen, the hearings were finally getting started. People filed into a large room and took their seats. Avery shifted on the bed.
Her stomach growled again.
“Go get her some food!”
“Are you serious?” Owen crossed his arms.
Mr. Smith pointed to the door, and Owen didn’t ask any more questions. He went downstairs and returned with a stale banana-nut muffin that looked like it had been purchased at a gas station mini market.
“Eat.” He aimed his gun at her head, set the muffin down on the bed, broke it into pieces and fed it to her a bit at a time with his other hand.
Avery followed his instructions. Might as well keep up her strength. She gratefully took a long drink from the water bottle he held for her, gasping when some of it splashed down her gown.
She’d noticed a smudge or two on it already but had been telling herself Alice could fix it—
If she made it out of here alive.
Another sob welled up. Avery fought to contain it. Where was Walker? Were they trying to find her?
How would they know where to look?
“You talk to the boss yet?” Owen asked Mr. Smith.
“Why would I?”
Owen narrowed his eyes. “We fucked up the plan. He needs to know about it.”
Mr. Smith didn’t answer.
“Jesus, Blaine’s supposed to be dead already. You didn’t check in and tell him what’s going on?”
“Of course I didn’t. I’m buying us some extra time,” Mr. Smith snarled at him. “He doesn’t need to know we’ve fucked up if we can fix it.”
“What if we don’t fix it? Those Lawrence Energy guys aren’t going to be happy, which means the boss isn’t going to be happy, which means we’re fucked.”
“We’ll get it done. No way her friends let her die.” Mr. Smith pointed to Avery.
“We’ll get it done if we can ever reach Blaine. When the hell is she on, anyway?”
Avery glanced at the television, where everyone in the Senate room was milling around.
“All right, folks, it’s obvious we’re going to run very late tonight,” a man on the screen said, speaking into a microphone. “I know you all have plans to fly back to your districts for the next few days, and I can’t help that. We’ve got to get this done. We’re going to take a two-hour break for dinner. We’ll reconvene then and keep going as long as it takes. Rebook your flights if you need to.”
No one on-screen looked happy, but Mr. Smith straightened.
“She’s bound to answer the phone now. She’ll be looking for dinner reservations.” He tried to make the call again.
Elizabeth didn’t pick up.
“This is ridiculous,” he said.
“Call this one’s boyfriend,” Owen said, gesturing at Avery. “Tell him to get it done.”
“I’m not willing to take that chance yet. We’ve got two hours before they start the hearings again. If Blaine doesn’t answer by then, we’ll make that call,” he added before Owen could protest.
Owen swore beneath his breath but paced away again.
Avery settled in as best she could, swallowing the grief that kept welling up inside her every time she thought about the wedding she wasn’t attending.
An hour later, she was still trying to find a comfortable position. With her hands tied behind her back, she couldn’t lean against the headboard. Her legs kept going to sleep, but every time she moved, she found herself face to face with a handgun.
At some point, Owen took her to the bathroom again. Later, he fed her another muffin.
Despite her best efforts, a tear slid down Avery’s cheek. Then another. She should be dancing with Walker at her reception. This should be the happiest night of her life.
“That’s not going to work,” Owen growled at her. “No crocodile tears.”
“Leave her alone. She just missed her wedding,” Mr. Smith said. “You should have ditched Walker a long time ago, anyway, you know,” he added. “A man who makes you wait like that isn’t going to be any kind of husband to
