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“Where is he?”
Silas checks his phone. Taps a few times. Looks at me. “Still don’t know.”
“Fuck. If Jane’s in on it, and Paulson’s in on it, who else?”
“Throw in the senator while you’re at it, Drew. How about Lindsay’s mom? And me. We’re all part of it. Need a little extra foil for that hat you’re wearing?” He gives me a WTF? look. “Paulson isn’t in on this.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“How do you know I’m not in on it?”
“I don’t,” I hiss.
Neither of us breathe. One, two, three, five seconds go by.
Finally he shakes his head and slowly lets out his breath through his nose. “Then you have two choices. Let Lindsay die because you can’t figure out who to ask for help, or ask the wrong person and she dies, too.”
“Those are terrible choices.”
“Yeah. So pick the one that gives her a chance.”
I hate being wrong.
“We have to get her out of my apartment.”
“You go anywhere near it, they’ll know. Whatever surveillance you’ve got going on, theirs is better.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know,” I reply, mocking his own words. As I speak, I crack open a cut on my lip, blood tainting my words.
“The more time we waste talking the harder this mission becomes,” he points out.
“Then shut up and move.”
“Move where? How the hell can we get you within yards of your apartment? They’ll see us coming a mile away.”
I spin through all the conceivable ways I can attack my own place. Beach? Bribe the security guard? Can’t do rooftop. Can’t dig a tunnel and get in.
And then it hits me.
I give Silas a hopeful look. “I have an idea.”
“It better be good.”
“It is. It involves gold bikinis and margaritas.”
“Even better.”
Chapter 5
Lindsay
They have to feed me.
Right?
Unless they plan to kill me in the next couple of hours.
If they’re not feeding me, is that a sign? Or are they just assholes who don’t care about feeding me? My stomach gurgles. Then it makes an epic sound, like wet boulders being dragged through mud with air pockets.
