Page 12 of Plain Sight

Zeus: Find him and you’ll find her

Zeus: Hades?

Hades turns the phone, then shows me the screen again.

Hades: What

Zeus: Don’t kill him.

A sound comes out of my mouth. It’s nothing like a laugh. “Tell him not to worry. You’re not going to kill him. I am.”

4

LILY

Really, the irony here is striking.

I asked Jameson if he was going to murder me so many times.

I’m not going to murder you, he shouts in my memory. I’d almost apologized to him. He’d seemed that upset about my insistence that he was going to kill me. Should I have believed him? No. Probably not. But everything that’s happened since Jameson took me from that parking lot has proved my instincts to be correct.

Jameson is just as hot as he was when I first met him. Not in the parking lot—on the sidewalk outside my grandfather’s house. He’s carrying too much grief around with him. I’m not condoning that kidnapping, I’m just⁠—

In retrospect, it’s very obvious that Jameson wasn’t going to kill me. If he was, he didn’t have to drive me to his cottage and give me a million chances to escape first. He could have done it in two seconds in the parking lot and then retreated to his cottage. It was never about murder for him.

By contrast, this kidnapper is all about murdering me, and he could not be more different from Jameson that night. He’s disguised as a member of the security team. Anyone looking in from outside could safely assume that he is my bodyguard.

It’s a true lesson in contrasts, because he doesn’t seem particularly excited about the murder itself. There’s no spark in his eyes, just that dull gray color. He moves down the row of windows, shutting each one and swiping the latch with methodical resignation.

Is this just what you do when you’re about to murder someone?

I guess it is if your day job is contract killings. I have to think that the day job aspect is what takes the passion out of it.

He moves down the row to my side of the building, and my heart speeds up. Is this the moment when he drags me over to the tarps? What should I do? Scream? I don’t get the impression that it would make a difference. This kidnapper hasn’t gone to any effort to keep me quiet. He’s either very confident in himself or has reason to believe that nobody within earshot will be bothered by the screams of a dying woman.

Or is this all an elaborate setup to bore me into complacence so I don’t see it coming when he shoots me out of nowhere?

Oh, God, this is bad.

The kidnapper turns his back on me and walks to the opposite side of the room. I look at him across what feels like a long way and no space at all. The space has four support beams in the center and half the polish has worn off the floor. There’s only one way out. In the far corner, there’s a narrow, shadowy doorway that might lead to an exit or might lead to a dead end. Is this someplace my grandfather—or the kidnapper—bought specially for killing? How many people can you kill in one place before somebody notices?

I wish I had some paper to outline my thoughts. I haven’t thought about outlining since Jameson found me—since Jameson took me—since I fell in love with Jameson, but it feels like it would be better than standing here, waiting to die.

My heart knocks against my ribs. It’s an alarm going off at the end of a timed test. Do you see where you are? it asks. Do you understand what’s happening?

Not entirely, no, but I understand that I’m supposed to be dead on those tarps, and yet I am not dead yet.

He hasn’t even tied my hands.

Why? Because he didn’t have time at the cathedral? Because he doesn’t care if I fight?

Because he knows he’s bigger and stronger and the fight would just spice up his day?

Because he doesn’t care if I spice up his day?

It’s already significantly warmer in the room with the windows closed. The air from outside is trapped. It smells even more like an antique shop. Everything about this is incongruous. Murders shouldn’t happen on sunny summer days. They shouldn’t happen when you’re supposed to be getting married. The atmosphere was better for a murder was better when Jameson kidnapped me, except for him.

He’s not like that.