Gaffe Out Loud Page 16

  “Okay, what do I need if the bank calls me?” I said, trying to think it through. “I probably need my debit card, at least. Maybe my social.”

  “And let me guess. You don’t have those numbers memorized either.”

  “No. Who does? Do people memorize those?” For real?

  He muttered a few not nice things under his breath.

  “You’re going to have to go get my purse or my phone if you want this ‘transaction’ to continue.”

  Adam muttered something else and paced. Finally, he stuck his gun in his waistband, stormed to Annie, and grabbed her arm. “Come on. I can’t leave you out here.”

  She let out a gasp as he pulled her down the hallway.

  “Don’t hurt her!” I yelled.

  They disappeared out of sight. A door opened. Then slammed.

  Then Adam was back, waves of adrenaline still emanating from him. “I’m going to go figure out a way to get your purse. You can just stay here until I get back. Try anything funny, and there will be payback.”

  “What kind of payback?” How far would Adam take this?

  Except maybe I didn’t want to know. Because this whole situation might not have the happy ending I desired. In movies, the main character rarely died. In real life? It was a definite possibility.

  “You don’t want to find out,” Adam said. “I’ll be back, and then we’ll get this taken care of. I’d hate to have to take more drastic measures.”

  My throat clenched at the thought.

  What was I going to do?

  I had to start by doing something. Anything. No way would I just sit here and wait to die.

  I was going to break this chair, I decided.

  But I wasn’t going to smash it while I was still attached like Raven had done in that one episode.

  No, I had a better plan.

  I was going to disassemble it spindle by spindle.

  The ropes at my wrists were wrapped around those spindles. If I could get them loose, then maybe I could get Annie and we could escape. I could run for help.

  There were a lot of uncertainties, but this was the best I could come up with for the time being.

  I twisted my neck, trying to see behind me. One of the spindles was already loose. If I could start with that one . . .

  I moved my hand up and down and felt the wood jiggle.

  I needed to try to push the wooden pieces apart somehow.

  I arched my back and pressed my shoulders into the top of the chair. I hoped that might open up the space between the wood.

  I could feel the grooves where the wood pegged into the slats below. If I just pressed into the back a little more . . .

  As I stretched against the chair, it suddenly rocked. Rocked. Rocked.

  And then fell to the floor with a crash.

  Pain spread through my shoulder.

  I paused for just long enough to catch my breath.

  Then I wiggled my hands.

  They were free! Free!

  Okay, if I could just get my feet undone . . .

  I wiggled until the legs of the chair slipped from the ropes. That loosened them enough that I could take my binds off.

  Thank goodness . . .

  Wasting no more time, I rushed down the hallway. The first door I came to had a chair wedged in front of it. I threw it to the side and jerked open the door. Annie rushed toward me, still pale but not quite as stoic looking.

  “Is he gone?” Her voice was barely audible.

  “Yes, but he’ll be back any time now. We’ve got to move.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door.

  Before we reached it, it opened.

  And Adam stepped inside, gun in hand. It was almost like he’d known we were coming.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Annie squeezed my arm and hid behind me, letting out a whimper that sounded child-like.

  I got to be the hero here.

  The problem was, I wasn’t great at being the hero.

  “Looks like I got back just in time.” Adam shoved his gun toward me. “Get back.”

  I stared at the Glock and knew I had no choice but to do what he said.

  I carefully took a step away from the man, Annie still clutching my arm.

  What now? Why couldn’t I have just been five minutes faster?

  He held up my purse. “Look what I found. It’s your lucky day.”

  Lucky day? He obviously had no idea how unlucky my life had been lately. “How did you get that?”

  Had he broken in? I suppose he’d gotten in to leave Desiree’s dead body in my house. It shouldn’t be a surprise that he could get in to grab my purse.

  “I have my ways.”

  “Did you steal Wesley’s painting also?” Was Adam an art thief on top of being an extortionist?

  His eyebrows scrunched together. “A painting? No. Why? Should I?”

  “Just wondering.” I still stared at his gun, my throat tight as I wondered what it would feel like to feel a bullet break through my skin and muscle.

  I didn’t want to find out.

  He reached into my purse and handed me my phone. “Now, why don’t you go ahead and sign into that bank account using your fingerprint? No excuses this time.”

  I swallowed hard, my arms trembling, as I took the phone from him. I stared at the screen. Was there a way I could secretly send a message to Jackson?

  Adam seemed to read my mind. “Don’t try anything funny.”

  As if to drive home his point, Adam grabbed Annie’s arm and held the gun to her head.

  She let out a cry.

  My heart rate surged again. “Okay, okay. I’ve got this. Let me get signed in, and then you’re going to have to tell me your bank account information.”

  He slid a piece of paper across the counter. “I wrote it down for you right here.”

  He’d come prepared. Awesome. I nibbled on my bottom lip as my account came up. Moving as quickly as I could, I typed in all the information.

  I hesitated for just a moment, my finger lingering over the send button.

  “Do it,” Adam growled.

  Annie whimpered again under his touch.

  “Okay, okay.” I glanced at the screen and hit the button. “Sent.”

  I showed him my phone and the confirmation screen there. Just as I thought, it would take twenty-four hours for the transfer to go through.

  Adam’s face lit with a grin. “Good job, Joey Darling.”

  “Now you can let her go.” I nodded at Annie.

  He released her.

  And, in an instant, Annie transformed from an abused wife into a confident sidekick. Gone were her slumped shoulders and downcast demeanor. In their place was a smug smile and raised head.

  I sucked in a breath. What . . . ?

  “Thanks for your cooperation, Joey,” she muttered, taking her husband’s arm. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

  My mouth dropped opened. “You were in this with him?”

  I’d been duped. Totally duped. How could I not have seen this?

  “When you’re husband and wife, you’re partners for life, you know?” Annie’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

  “You were taking blackmail pictures today,” I muttered, a clearer picture forming in my mind. I thought I’d had this figured out, but it had gone deeper than I thought. “You’re in this whole thing together. You both put other people in compromising positions, document it, and then threaten to show the pictures if they don’t pay up. Some kind of commodities trader you are.”

  Adam shrugged, looking rather proud of himself. “I didn’t say what kind of commodities I traded.”

  Con artists. That’s what they were. And now killers as well. How could I have fallen for it?

  “You’re both sick,” I muttered. “Really sick. You need help, not more money.”

  Annie leered in my face. “Now we have to figure out what to do with you.”

  “You both lured Desiree into doing this, but she didn’t like it. So you strangled
her and left the body in my house.” I knew I should keep my thoughts silent, but I needed to sort them out.

  “We didn’t figure someone would find her so soon,” Adam said. “But it was just as well that you moved in.”

  “You did your research and knew about my past history with my ex. You planned those fights, didn’t you? So I would feel sorry for Annie.” My gaze went to Annie. How could she have done this? Betrayed another woman like this? It disgusted me.

  “Sorry. But you have to tap into a person’s biggest fears if you’re going to hit them where it hurts.” She shrugged, without a care in the world. in fact, she looked rather smug. “All’s fair in business.”

  “This isn’t business. It’s crime.”

  “I say enough of this talking.” Adam sliced his hand through the air. “We need to clean this up and move on. Annie has a date tonight, and she really needs to be more presentable.”

  Nausea churned in my stomach as I realized just how committed they were to their plan. Nothing would get in their way. Especially not me. “What are you going to do with me?”

  “Whatever it is, it has to seem natural,” Adam continued. “Strangling Desiree was natural because her boyfriend would look guilty—or poor little Jason. We knew we’d be the last people the police looked at.”

  “What’s your plan for me?” Tension spread throughout my body.

  “We’re thinking a crazy fan kidnapped you and will send a ransom note,” Annie said.

  “That already happened.” Or had it? I mean, a crazy fan had rescued me. And he’d helped me find a killer. Had he actually abducted me? There was time to think about that later. “It will be like a rerun of reality. You need something better, more creative.”

  Adam’s smile dimmed. “It just so happens that we have other ideas. Like maybe the stress of everything has gotten to you so you just disappear. Maybe you can leave a video diary entry for the world to see. Of course, Annie and I will be on the other side of the camera, holding a gun to your head.”

  “Honey, we’ve got to go.” Annie glanced at her watch. “I only have an hour, and I’ve got to get dolled up.”

  “Of course. You don’t want to be late, honey.” Adam turned back toward me. “But . . .”

  They obviously didn’t have time to enact their evil little plan right now.

  Maybe that would buy me some time.

  Or maybe it would simply draw all of this out.

  Buy me time. I had to stick with the idea that this delay would buy me time and try to stay positive here.

  “Down the hallway,” Adam ordered. “We’ll be back later.”

  I sat with my knees pulled to my chest in a small room filled with a washer, dryer, air handler, and various shelves. The chair must have been propped against the door again because I couldn’t open it. Nor could I stop sneezing. Nor could I figure out any other way to escape.

  I’d tried. And now I just needed to sit and think.

  This was not going to be the end of me. I was going to get out of this. Someway. I just couldn’t figure out how yet, but I would. I just needed time.

  Unfortunately, between my panicked thoughts on escaping, other pressing life questions haunted me.

  Was what Adam and Annie had said true? Had they sent that picture to Jackson? Was he now questioning my loyalty again?

  My heart panged at the thought.

  I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe that I had a happily ever after out there. But maybe they didn’t really exist. Maybe not being with Jackson would be the best for both of us.

  But if that was true, why did my heart hurt so much at the thought?

  I sounded liked a broken record—even to myself—but I had a tendency to mess things up. Yet, for a while, everything between Jackson and me had felt so hopeful.

  I had so many decisions to make. Did I accept the role in the new movie? Did I turn it down? And, if I did turn it down, would I resent Jackson?

  My head pounded harder. I had no idea, and none of that would matter if I didn’t get out of here.

  Okay, think, Joey. There’s got to be a way to escape.

  I glanced around. Most of the things in here, I couldn’t use. A washing machine and dryer did me no good, nor did a broom and dustpan.

  But . . .

  My breath caught. There was an episode of Relentless . . .

  I straightened as hope surged through me. That was right. Something similar to this happened in one of my episodes. Someone had been trapped when a chair was propped against a door.

  I just needed to find something thin and long.

  I stood, brushed the dust from my jean shorts, and looked through the shelves where some overflow kitchen items were stored. Crock pots. A blender—with no blade. Some pots and pans.

  Finally, I found what I was looking for.

  An old cutting board. It was plastic and thin yet still stiff enough it might work.

  It was worth a shot.

  I grabbed the lime-green mat and shoved it beneath the door.

  It fit!

  Victory.

  I’d take whatever I could get.

  I stretched on my belly in order to try and see beneath the crack. It was nearly impossible . . . but I wasn’t giving up. This board was my only hope right now.

  I jammed the board until it hit something.

  A chair leg.

  My heart rate surged.

  Maybe—just maybe—this would work.

  I continued to thrust the cutting board beneath the door and into the chair leg.

  Over and over.

  Until the chair finally moved—just a smidgen. But it had moved. Moved!

  My breath caught.

  I could do this. My plan would work. It had to.

  I kept working, moving the chair little by little, until finally I heard a crash.

  The chair had fallen.

  I jumped to my feet and grabbed the door handle. This time, when I pushed, it opened.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  And now I had to move.

  But, before I could, I spotted a shadow in the distance.

  I braced myself for another fight.

  Chapter Thirty

  I grabbed the cutting board from the floor and held it like a baseball bat—kind of. I mean, as much as I could with a cutting board. And then I braced myself for a faceoff with Adam or Annie.

  Instead . . . Jackson stepped from around the corner with his gun drawn.

  I gasped and lowered the board. “Jackson?”

  “Joey? You’re okay.” He rushed toward me, not bothering to hide the fact he was studying me for injuries. And then he stopped at my arms and frowned. “You were going to defend yourself with a plastic cutting board?”

  I barely heard him. Instead, I dropped the board and threw my arms around his neck. “You came for me.”

  Jackson drew me close and held me so tightly that I could hardly breathe. “Of course I came for you.”

  I had no idea how he’d found me. But I’d have to figure that out later. The important thing was that he was here—and Adam and Annie were not.

  “I don’t have time to ask you a lot of questions now. We’ve got to get out of here before they come back.” I took his arm.

  We’d only taken a step when we heard voices outside.

  I gripped Jackson’s arms. “It’s too late.”

  Jackson glanced around before springing into action. He tossed the cutting board into the bedroom behind us, closed the door to the laundry room, and propped the chair against it.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, still holding onto his arm.

  “You’ll see.”

  Just as a shadow appeared at the door, he pulled me into the bedroom across the hall. He pressed me into the wall and out of sight before putting a finger over his lips and motioning for me to be quiet.

  They were inside, I realized. Adam and Annie. I could hear them talking, though I couldn’t make out the words.

  Fear ricocheted up
my spine. What if they killed both of us?

  No, I couldn’t think like that. Jackson knew what he was doing.

  Their voices came closer. The louder they became, the more my back muscles tensed.

  I glanced at Jackson. He stood with his gun drawn right by the door.

  I prayed this would work.

  Just when the voices were outside our door, Jackson burst from the room, catching them by surprise.

  Someone yelled.

  Grunted.

  Something—or someone—slammed into the wall.

  I couldn’t just stand here.

  I grabbed the lamp from beside me—a much better choice than my earlier cutting board—and stepped into the hallway. Jackson and Adam wrestled for a gun. As Annie lunged toward them to help, I swung the makeshift weapon at her and connected with the side of her head.

  She let out a gasp and fell against the wall.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “Kind of.”

  Man, I hoped I hadn’t done any permanent damage. But no way would I let her hurt Jackson.

  As Adam grabbed the gun from Jackson, I knew I had to do something. Things couldn’t end like this.

  I charged toward Adam. My head hit his stomach, and he flew backward.

  But his gun.

  His gun was still in his hand. His hand was beside my abdomen. All it would take was . . . one muscle reaction and I’d be a goner.

  Baloney, I remembered.

  It was the move my father had taught me. Below knee.

  Using all my strength, I kicked Adam in the shin.

  He let out a gasp and doubled over.

  “Put the weapon down,” Jackson ordered, wiping blood from his lip with one hand and holding his gun with the other.

  As police flooded in behind us, Adam groaned and seemed to realize he was outnumbered. He did as Jackson had told him. While the cops handcuffed Adam and Annie, the pair muttered curses at me.

  We were safe, I realized.

  We were really safe.

  Jackson pulled me away from the craziness and into a corner. His gaze studied me.

  “They hurt you . . .” He gently touched my cheek.

  Had a bruise already formed there?

  “I’ll be okay,” I told him. As I said the words, I rolled my shoulder and felt another ache there.