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Emily paused in the doorway, her heart beating hard in her chest. “Let me call—” Before she could finish her sentence, someone grabbed her hand, pulled her through the door, covered her mouth, and held her against their hard body.
The person dragged her, kicking and struggling, through a second doorway and into a small room. Before what had happened could register, her hands were tied behind her back, a thick cloth was shoved into her mouth, and tape was slapped across her lips.
She pulled at her hands and tried to make noise but only muffled grunts made it past the cloth.
A tall man stepped in front of her and lifted her chin. She found herself staring up into a pair of cold, blue eyes. “Hello, Emily. Did you miss me this week?”
* * *
Mark sat backon the couch in the green room, absently plucking at his violin strings. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling, a smile on his face. He’d never been this happy before. Oh, he’d not had a bad life or anything like that. But spending time with Emily this week, her being unhampered by anything, had been amazing. They’d talked about their favorite music—she was incredibly insightful—and their favorite movies and books, though most of hers were older. She hadn’t been to a movie in over five years. She was a fan of the oldies, anyway. He’d promised, once they were home, he’d take her to a movie.
He’d loved every second he’d spent with her. The shadow that had hung over her since they’d met was gone. Her eyes sparkled. She smiled. It was beautiful. Even now his heart swelled with love for her.
He’d made a reservation for them Saturday night at his favorite restaurant in DC for a romantic evening. Then, if she was willing, he’d take her home and make love to her.
God, he loved that woman!
Rafael and Joe left her alone all week. Perhaps they’d realized it wasn’t worth the hassle to bother her. Mark had expected them to try something, but nothing happened. He and Emily hadn’t hidden their relationship but hadn’t tried to publicize it either. Maybe she really was safer by his side.
The door opened and the members of the orchestra all looked up as one when Maestro Holden entered. Mark frowned. He usually kept to himself before concerts.
He walked over to Mark looking upset. “Rafael called and said he’d eaten something bad at dinner. He’s not coming tonight. I need you to fill in as concertmaster, if you think you’re up for it. I realize it’s a tremendous ask, especially with the Tchaikovsky, but you’re experienced, and Mary gets terrible anxiety when things change unexpectedly.”
Mark drew his brows together. “Rafael’s never missed a concert in his life.”
“I don’t want him vomiting on stage.” Maestro Holden turned to Mary, who sat nearby, her face pale. “Mary, are you okay with this? I realize this isn’t ideal, but it’s the best we can do last minute.”
Mary nodded, swallowing hard, and flashed a smile of relief to Mark. It was too bad. Mary was an excellent player and deserved to be concertmistress.
Mark leaned forward, plucking at his strings again as his mind circled around this new development. Rafael had never missed a performance. Ever. The man was in his mid-fifties, though. Maybe he really was sick.
Still, something didn’t feel right.
The musicians began to make their way out to the stage. He followed, waiting in the wings until he was given the nod by the stage manager. When it was time, he walked out to the applause of the audience, bowing and looking around with a smile on his face. He glanced toward Emily’s seat, but it was empty.
His stomach churned as he stared. Was she in the bathroom? He searched the first rows for David, even as he bowed again. He didn’t want to make a scene.
He met David’s eye and tilted his head toward Emily’s seat. Only then did Mark notice Joe’s seat was empty as well, though Emily’s mother sat in hers.
Mark moved to the podium and tuned the orchestra, resisting the urge to turn around. Once the orchestra was tuned, he moved to his seat and glanced at David again. The other man stood and nodded to Mark before making his way to the end of the row.
Mark chewed his lip, thankful David could go look for her. It was probably nothing. Maybe she was in the bathroom.
Still, his stomach churned.
At that moment, Maestro Holden appeared on stage and Mark stood.
He tried to assure himself everything was fine.
If David didn’t locate her by intermission, he didn’t care what anyone thought. He was going to find her.
Forty-Seven
Emily sat in a car,blindfolded, her wrists and ankles bound, her mouth taped closed. Tears leaked out from her eyes but were absorbed into the blindfold.
Geoffrey was in the car with her. There were other men, too, but she didn’t know who they were. One had carried her out of the concert hall and put her in the car. He sat next to her.
The car smelled familiar. A faint scent that triggered her fears, but she wasn’t sure why. She couldn’t pinpoint the smell.
