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THIRTY
Sophie knew that voice from the phone call earlier in the day. It was confident, self-possessed, with an overtone of arrogance.
Quinn. Sophie should have suspected that Quinn wouldn’t play by the rules she’d established.
“We’re going to take this nice and slow. Give me your purse first,” Quinn said.
Sophie hesitated. The gun that Owen had given her was in there along with her phone. Those were her survival tools, and she hated handing them over.
“Do it now,” Quinn growled impatiently. “Or I’ll let my associate know that Micky is no longer relevant.” Sophie had no idea if Quinn even had an associate, but she couldn’t take that risk, so she handed over her purse. “Very good. Open the briefcase and show me the knife is in it.” Sophie did as directed, once again working the catches and opening the briefcase. Her back was still to Quinn, but Sophie could hear the triumph in her voice when she saw the knife. “Today must be my lucky day. Now, close the lid and keep your hands where I can see them. We’re walking to the dumpster first and then to that gray van in the corner of the lot. Let’s move.”
Scenarios played out in Sophie’s head, things that she’d learned in self-defense classes. But none of them offered her any solution to get away without endangering Micky, so she marched to the dumpster with Quinn’s gun in her back.
“Stop,” Quinn commanded before tossing Sophie’s purse into the dumpster. It landed with a heavy thunk. “Now head to the van and don’t do anything stupid.”
When they reached it, Sophie opened the side door. Quinn gave her a hard shove, knocking her in. When she was off balance, Quinn put zip ties around her wrists and forced her all the way into the van. Sophie felt powerless. All sorts of statistics about kidnapping victims played in her head. Being moved to a new location significantly lessened the chance of survival. That and time passing were the biggest factors working against her.
She was on the verge of panicking when she remembered that those victims didn’t have Owen on their side. He’d come looking for her when she didn’t show up at their meeting place. And he’d find her. But she had to help him in any way that she could.
He’d locate his truck in the newspaper parking lot, but the only way to show him where she’d gone from there was for him to track her watch. Except that feature was turned off. She wanted to kick herself for not enabling it earlier. She was going to have to do it now. Somehow. With her wrists tied behind her, that was going to be a challenge. Quinn was sharp-eyed, too. She’d notice if Sophie attempted anything.
So distraction. Sophie could do that. She waited until Quinn had pulled out onto the street before she started asking questions.
“What’s your dog in this fight exactly?” she started. “I know you work for Wilson, but it seems like you’ve got a bigger stake. Has Wilson got something on you like he does on Jude?”
Quinn scoffed. “Not how that works in my world. I’m not dumb enough to let someone like Wilson blackmail me.”
“So you’re strictly a professional…what’s your title exactly?” Sophie got her right hand on her left wrist. She just hoped that she was familiar enough with the controls of her watch to scroll through without looking.
“I’m called a fixer because I make problems go away.” Quinn flicked back her hair.
“Interesting career choice,” Sophie commented, grateful that she’d silenced any of the noises on her watch.
“I like it,” Quinn said. “I’ve been around, worked for different organizations, seen a lot of the world. I like it here, though.”
“Planning to stay? I thought your role was more temporary.”
“It can be, but I’m going to stick around. I just have to prove myself invaluable to Wilson.” Ah, so that was her game. She wanted to build her reputation. “He’s smart enough not to get rid of an asset like me. It won’t take me long, and I’ll be in charge of all of Wilson’s drug operation.”
“You must be glad to have Mason out of the way then.” Sophie’s fingers tapped the screen and her watch vibrated to let her know the setting had changed. She silently prayed she’d turned on the GPS and not set an alarm.
Quinn snorted. “Mason was an idiot. I should thank you and your buddies for taking care of him. I don’t know where you left him, and I don’t care as long as he’s out of my way.” She steered the vehicle a hard right, sending Sophie skidding across the floor. “Razor, on the other hand…if he hadn’t jumped ship, he could’ve been competition. He was savvy and greedy, which made him more of a threat. I’d have taken care of him myself, but Wilson panicked and did it.”
Sophie felt a small victory that Quinn was giving her so much information. She could almost imagine the words in type in the newspaper, but then reality kicked in. Quinn wouldn’t have told her any of those things if she planned to let Sophie live. Sophie now knew far too much about Quinn’s identity.
Sophie was a dead woman. That hit her hard, stealing her breath. Owen was out there, she reminded herself. He’d search for her, but would he get to her in time? She didn’t know, but she had to keep her wits about her, stay smart. Her brains were her best asset.
“Where are we going?” she asked a few minutes later after they’d woven through city streets. She could see the upper floors of buildings but couldn’t quite place their location until the van stopped. Then, Sophie caught sight of the distinctive roofline of an old factory.
She’d been there twice in the past month. Once when she’d been tracking down known drug dealers, trying to trace them back to the suppliers. A second time just a few days ago with Owen when they followed more of the GPS locations on Mason’s phone. It must be a property that Wilson used for his operation. She and Owen had sat outside of it for an hour, observing nothing, but that didn’t mean it was always empty.
“Okay, princess, this is it,” Quinn said.
She got out of the driver’s seat and came around to open the side door. Sophie had seen in movies that hostages had gotten free by kicking out at their captor when they opened the door, but her legs were trapped on the wrong side of her, and she couldn’t get them twisted into place fast enough.
And then there was Quinn’s gun leveled at her as soon as the door opened. Seeing the gun triggered something in Sophie’s mind.
“You’re the one who shot at me and Owen on the golf course,” Sophie said, knowing she was right.
