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“Did you find the domestic violence police reports?” she asked. “Those were a little hard to find, but once I did, it just made sense. I think she tried to leave him.”
Of course she would’ve.
“That’s horrific. I didn’t know about the abuse or reports.”
“He’s evil. Sociopath. Psychopath. Something. I tried to get him to back off by confronting him about his wife. Saying I thought he’d murdered her. And that’s when he really retaliated. He killed my cat. Again, can’t actually prove it was him though.”
Hannah blinked as horror seared through her.
He’d killed the woman’s cat?
This really did get worse than flowers.
“Oh my god,” Hannah choked out. “How did it stop?”
“I don’t think it ever would’ve. That’s why I ran. I moved out of state and changed my name.” Jeannie sighed. “And now he’s turned his focus to you. God, I’m so sorry.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“The man isn’t firing on all cylinders and his tactics always turn violent. Keep away from him, Hannah. You should probably try the police if you haven’t yet. They couldn’t do much for me, but maybe if you bring up my story, too, they’ll take you seriously.”
“I will. I wish I could talk longer, but I’m about to meet someone. Thank you so much for calling me, Jeannie.”
“Not a problem. Be safe and be smart.”
After Hannah ended the call, she sent a quick text to Eric to fill him in and let him know she’d be a few minutes late. She’d just turned the ignition when the passenger side door swung open.
Stoddard Wentworth climbed inside and locked the door.
Shock ripped through her. “Get out of my car!”
She hadn’t locked the door. She’d gotten so distracted talking to Jeannie, she hadn’t thought to lock the car door.
“I don’t think so.”
If he wouldn’t leave, then she would. Hannah reached for the handle, but the hand that gripped her arm stopped her.
“I really hate that it’s come to this, Hannah,” he said calmly. “That I have to go through such means to get you to have dinner with me.” He sighed and pulled a gun from his trench coat pocket. “Yet, here we are.”
This man was nuttier than a bag of almonds. And he had a gun trained on her.
Dear God.
Her heart pounded a mile a minute in her chest. “I can see why you have trouble getting a date. Abducting a woman at gunpoint usually isn’t considered a romantic gesture.”
The look of pure irritation on his face almost gave her pleasure. Almost, but the utter terror at having a gun pointed at her overrode the emotion.
Why was she goading him? What was wrong with her?
“Be a good girl and start the engine. I’ll take you to my family’s restaurant. It’s called The Cove. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
She’d been there once. It was an older, upscale restaurant on the banks of Lake Washington. The dress code was rigid. They didn’t let you in without a dress or a suit and tie.
“I’m a bit underdressed for The Cove,” she pointed out.
It was remarkable how calm her voice was, when inside she wanted to run away screaming.
“I wouldn’t worry about that. Turn right at the next light.”
