Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,96

In fact, he’d agreed that John Colt, and not the U.S. Marshals, was Tabitha’s best chance of making a new start. If anyone could help her drop off the radar and stay there, it was Colt.

What had upset Jacob was that she’d acted without telling him. He’d stood in that motel room with his hair still damp from the shower and looked at her with disbelief. She couldn’t get his look or his words out of her mind.

All this time you’ve been telling me to trust you, Bailey. That works both ways.

Bailey’s stomach knotted. They’d had something good. Something unique. When they’d been wrapped up in each other, Bailey had felt it. And she’d blown everything by not being honest with him. She hadn’t outright lied to him. Not unless you considered it a lie by omission—which she suspected he did. She didn’t know for sure, though, because he’d refused to discuss it.

Bailey neared the corner store. Across the street was a shiny white Mercedes with its headlights on. Bailey watched it for a moment as she reached for the door. A bell jangled as she entered the store, and she nodded at the shopkeeper on her way to the back. She picked up a bag of cat food and paused in front of the beer section.

She owed Jacob an apology. Maybe she should swing by his house. Or invite him over. She grabbed a chilled six-pack of Shiner Bock, then checked her phone as she set the groceries on the counter.

Still no messages.

“No Powerball tonight?” the clerk asked her.

“Nope.”

“Eight million.”

“Maybe next time.”

He clucked his disapproval as he rang her up, and she balanced her groceries in one arm as she opened the door with another jangle. The Mercedes was still there, no lights now, and something about it seemed familiar. She tried to place where she’d seen it.

Bailey’s phone vibrated. Her heart lurched, and she balanced the cat food on her hip as she pulled the phone from her jeans.

Jacob.

Pain seared up her arm as someone twisted it and slammed her against a wall, smacking her face against the brick.

A hand slapped over her mouth as she tried to scream. Her knees buckled, but something sharp pinned her in place as all her groceries fell. Her body jerked backward and then forward as someone shoved her into the alley and slammed her against another wall.

Bailey’s face burned. Her cheek was pressed against the hard brick as she struggled to breathe. Pain shot up her arm, and a hard knee jabbed into her lower back.

“You lying little bitch.” The voice was low and raspy.

Bailey’s arm twisted again, and the zing of pain nearly blinded her. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe. She felt like her arm was being wrenched from its socket and she tried to crane her head around.

Fingernails dug into her face as the hand squeezed her mouth shut.

“You sneaky, lying bitch!”

Spittle misted her face, and Bailey tried to see the person behind her. It was a woman. She was strong and had fingers like talons. Her sharp knee dug into Bailey’s tailbone.

Lucinda.

Bailey’s heart jackhammered. She tried to get a breath. Her shoulder was on fire, and those fingernails cut into her cheek. Bailey reared her head back, desperate to breathe.

“Don’t make a sound.”

The grip on her mouth loosened a fraction, and Bailey sucked in air. Relief flooded through her, but then something cold and hard pressed against the back of her neck.

“I could blow your head off right now. You realize that?” The voice was low and scratchy. It sounded like Lucinda, but different somehow. Disconnected.

The muzzle of the gun pressed harder against her neck.

“I need to know one thing. Just one.” She eased closer, and Bailey smelled her sweat. A memory flashed into her brain: the white Mercedes in the parking garage at Granite Tech. It was Lucinda’s. So, she’d driven over here, but she was sweaty and amped up as though she’d just run a sprint.

“Who else knows?”

Bailey’s mind reeled. She tried to process the question.

“Who?”

The hand over her mouth loosened.

“I . . . don’t understand,” Bailey croaked.

Pain seared her shoulder joint as Lucinda twisted her arm tighter.

“Who besides you?”

Bailey didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The question made no sense. Lucinda was unhinged. Bailey managed to turn her head a fraction.

Lucinda’s hair was a wild mane around her head. Her blue eyes were bloodshot and frantic.

“Who knows what?” Bailey asked.

The eyes bulged. “Don’t play dumb with me, you little bitch. You think I don’t know? You think