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“This will only take a minute. I’m sure of it. Fluffers has always been a good mother and had easy deliveries of her babies.”
She needed to shut her mouth. She was saying the stupidest things.
“I see. I mean, I—”
“All right. Come on in. If you don’t mind, can I use your phone flashlight, since there’s no electricity here?” This was a long shot, but if she could get him to give her his phone, she’d have a better chance of him not getting anyone to come help him get out. She felt some guilt but reasoned in her heart that it was for a good cause, and he’d thank her on his and Norma Jean’s wedding day.
“My phone flashlight?” the man muttered, pulling it back out of his pocket and turning the flashlight on. He handed it to her, and she shined it around the cabin, hiding her satisfied smile.
The cabin was dusty and small. But there was a woodstove, and just because she thought he was going to need it, she said, “I’ve always loved this cabin, and it has such a big pile of wood stacked outside the back door.”
There. Now he knew there was wood outside the back door. So when Norma Jean showed up and the storm trapped them together, they would be able to make a nice, cozy fire. Relationships thrived in front of the natural warmth of a beautiful flame.
“Fluffers is in here.” She did call her Fluffers, right?
But Peter didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, so she hurried to the back where the storage closet was.
“Right in here,” she said, holding her breath. This was the trickiest part. He needed to be far enough in that she could close the door and lock it before he had the foresight, no, theinclinationto turn around and try to open the door. He was much bigger than she was, and she would never be able to hold it closed without getting it locked.
“This seems like an odd place for a cat. How’d she get in?” Peter said, looking around.
“You know cats. They can get in anywhere.” She knew no such thing, and Peter didn’t seem to either, because he gave her a look underneath the cowboy hat as the phone flashlight glowed a little on his face. His eyes were dark and unreadable, and Sally felt a shiver go down her back. Not a good one. This man was not a man she wanted to have anything to do with. He felt a little dangerous. Definitely more serious than what she was interested in.
Thankfully, just then they heard a meow, and the man tilted his head.
“She sounds like she’s in distress!” Sally said, although she wouldn’t have said any such thing. It sounded like a curious meow, like the cat was wondering when someone was going to come and let her out.
Peter opened the door, and she reached to shine the flashlight in. Thankfully, Fluffers was over on the pile of towels that Sally had placed in the corner.
One step. Two. Three.
Sally slammed the door closed and threw the lock, just as her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She pulled it out, shoving Peter’s phone in her opposite pocket, and looked down.
The text appeared in front of her eyes as Peter called through the door, “Hey! What are you doing?”
The text was from Norma Jean.
Sally! Forget about your plan! Peter just looked me up and he wanted to dance! I don’t think you’re going to have to kidnap him after all!
Sally’s jaw dropped, and she barely noticed four exclamation points in one text. She stared at her phone some more. Norma Jean was with Peter?
The man in the closet pounded on the door. “This isn’t a very good joke. Let me out.”
His voice sounded commanding and irritated.
Sally, who had never been very brave to begin with and who had a physically abusive father who became violent when he was angry, swallowed past her suddenly tight throat. She’d made a huge mistake.
“Peter?”
“And for the last time and for goodness’ sake, stop calling me Peter. That’s my brother.”
Sally’s eyes grew big, and her hand went to her heart.
She had screwed up. Big time.
Her fingers shook, but she sent a text to the one person she knew she could always count on. Her best friend, Eleanor.
