The shot changed to one of Greg standing outside the university. He kept his expression appropriately somber, but even through the screen, Weston sensed the reporter’s thrill at nailing the interview. A little tag on the right corner labeled it previously recorded.
Rachel squeezed his hand.
Weston’s gaze shot to her. Tears were leaking from her eyes, dripping onto the pillow. She couldn’t even look at the television.
“Rachel, is your attacker Greg Kilbourne?”
One squeeze.
Awareness came like moving through a soupy fog. Every muscle in Avery’s body ached, and her head felt like someone was beating it with a hammer. She groaned.
“Wakey, wakey.”
A pair of hands shook her shoulders, and her head flopped back and forth. She struggled to right it. The clatter of metal against metal only increased her confusion. Where was she? Her thoughts were scattered like confetti on the wind, too difficult to chase. All she wanted to do was sleep and escape the pain. That wasn’t too much to ask.
Someone lightly smacked her cheek. Avery forced her eyes open. The fierce pounding inside her skull increased, and she winced, as light assaulted her. She blinked. Then again. A man’s face loomed in front of her, and Avery reared back. She tried to move her hands but couldn’t.
Tied. She was tied.
It came back to her in a horrifying kaleidoscope of memories. Pulling Rachel from the pool, being attacked, and then drugged. Her breathing increased. Avery blinked again, willing her eyes to adjust to the light and her head to stop pounding. The man standing in front of her came into focus.
Greg Kilbourne.
“Well, hello, Avery.” Greg’s tone was mocking. “Nice of you to join us.”
She tried to speak, but her tongue was fuzzy and slow. A side effect of the drug. Her body shook uncontrollably. From fear or cold, she couldn’t tell. Her clothes were still damp from the pool. She struggled to piece together the puzzle. Why would Greg Kilbourne try to kill her? Where was Tom?
Greg laughed, then grabbed a lock of Avery’s hair. He gave it a gentle tug. “Poor thing. You’re confused. Allow me to enlighten you.”
Greg removed his glasses and threw them to the side. They clattered against the floor. Then he reached up and tugged at his beard. He peeled it from his face, revealed a long scar across his chin.
Her heart rate skyrocketed. “N-N-N-Nolan.”
Jack Starin’s son. Nolan closed his eyes and a smile crept across his face. “Ahhh, I’ve waited a long time for you to say my real name.”
Not all of his features were the same. His nose was different and his cheeks were chubbier. The plastic surgery—coupled with the beard, glasses, and green contact lenses—had been an effective disguise.
She blinked again. Nolan Starin was alive.
He smirked in acknowledgment of her unvoiced thought. “Yes, I faked my own death. One of the many things I learned to do while in prison.”
Avery took deep breaths to counteract the drug swimming in her system. She wet her cracked lips with her tongue. “W-Where’s my sister?”
“Oh, she’s right here. Along with a surprise guest, I’m sure you’ll be happy to see.”
Nolan backed away, enabling Avery to view the room. It was small with two doors on the right-hand side. The only window had been boarded up, and the floor was tile.
Savannah sat against the far wall. A bruise bloomed along the side of her face and dried blood clumped her hair together. Silver tape covered her mouth, and she was shackled. Twist ties looped around her wrists and feet. A chain was threaded through them and encircled her waist. It was secured to an eyehook in the center of the floor with a padlock. Savannah shifted her hands and the chain rattled. Her wrists were bloody.
Avery met her sister’s gaze. Savannah was trying to hide it, but she was terrified. Avery shared the feeling but wouldn’t allow it to take root. She couldn’t. Her sister was alive, and although the situation appeared impossible, it wasn’t over. Not yet.
Sitting beside Savannah was Mike Steel. He was unconscious and also bound. Tape covered his mouth.
Avery’s gaze shot to Nolan. He chuckled. “You see, I captured your knight.” He pointed to Savannah, then shifted his finger to Mike. “And your queen. It’s unorthodox, I’ll admit, picking Mike to be that piece. But he was your father’s partner. And you worked with him as well from time to time.”
Nolan was going to kill them. Avery glanced down at her own restraints. Unlike her sister and Mike, she was sitting in a chair. Her feet were attached to the legs with twist ties. She strained her fingers and discovered more ties around her wrists securing them to the chair.
“You cap—” Avery shook her head and then winced. It felt as though someone had used her skull as a bowling ball. She took another deep breath and forced her tongue to work. “You captured Mike after we met with him at his house?”
That’s why the lawyer wouldn’t allow them to question him. He hadn’t been able to locate his client.
Nolan smiled. “It was fun watching you and the rangers spin your wheels to find him.”
“You won’t get away with this. Every police officer in three counties is looking for us.”
“Like they were looking for Debra and Marianne.” He scoffed. “I’m not worried. My alter ego isn’t even on the suspect list.”
He was right. Greg Kilbourne had never been a suspect. How would the rangers find them? Weston must be out of his mind with worry. Tears pricked Avery’s eyes, but she forced them back. Now was not the time to think about Weston and the kisses they shared, the promises they’d made—
She stiffened. Weston.
Please, Lord, please…
Avery leaned back against the chair. The knife Weston had given her pressed into her skin. She wanted to weep with relief. Instead, she kept her gaze on Nolan. “You’ve worked hard to kidnap us.”
“I did.” He kicked Mike in
