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“Should he be naked?” Shona asked Megan.
“Why?” Megan stared at the woman.
“To make the torturing easier.”
Jena Morgan snorted and hid her face in her best friend Abby’s neck while she laughed.
“Shouldn’t you guys be making Molotov cocktails?” Megan asked the peanut gallery. She gestured to the many alcohol bottles in the corner of the room.
“Turns out you make them with gasoline,” Abby said. “Not beer and wine.”
“I knew that,” Jena said proudly.
“We can probably use the whisky, or the vodka,” Abby carried on. “But we only have a couple of bottles of those. And we already made them into bombs.” She pointed at the dressing table, and sure enough there were two bottles of whisky and one of vodka, each with a rag sticking out of the neck. “That’s it for our arsenal.”
“We have the prisoner’s gun,” Megan said. “It’s not much, but every little bit helps.”
“Enough of this—what are we going to do about him?” Shona pointed at their captive, who was now tied to the bed using a fortune in silk ties. “Do you have any ideas for making him talk?”
“I don’t know how I’m going to torture him yet,” Megan admitted. “I’m thinking about it.”
“Why don’t you sing?” her mother said. “That’s always worked on me.”
“Thanks, Mum.”
“What?” Her mother held up her hands. “Singing isn’t one of your talents. Remember that cat who used to run and hide under the bed every time you sang? And the dog who would howl? I’m not alone in my assessment. I’m sure if you sang to him he’d tell you anything you wanted just to get you to shut up.”
“Great.” Megan glared at her. “That’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll sing show tunes until he caves. Should I tap-dance too? I was never any good at that either.”
“No need for sarcasm,” Heather grumbled. “Just trying to help.”
The women stood back and studied their work. The guy was still wearing the hand-towel gag Megan had fashioned for him downstairs. And he was still out cold.
“There’s a strange man tied to my bed,” Caroline said with bewilderment. “I never thought there would be a man tied to my bed.”
Every eye in the room looked at her.
“What?” she demanded.
“Nothing.” Kirsty patted Caroline’s hand.
“I need to buy a new mattress.” Caroline considered her bed. “And possibly move to a different bedroom. This one is kind of ruined for me now.”
“We need to wake him up.” Megan considered the guy before looking at Caroline. “Are you sure you’re getting a new mattress?”
Caroline nodded. “I can’t sleep on that one anymore.”
“In that case”—Megan turned to her mother—“Mum, can you get a container of water and—”
“Waterboard him?” Heather looked excited at the prospect.
“No!” Megan stared at the woman. “Throw it at him to wake him up.”
“Oh, right. Yes, I can do that.” She disappeared into the bathroom.
“How does she even know about waterboarding?” Megan asked the rest of the women.
“Just because we’re older than you are, doesn’t mean we’re ignorant,” Shona said.
