her own hands held to the side, rigid, as if she forced herself still.
Zoe phoned O’Donnell, her gaze still focused on Catherine’s face in that final image. Catherine’s eyes were shut tight, as if she was trying to unsee what was happening to her, perhaps make it disappear. But in the end, she hadn’t shut her eyes tight enough.
CHAPTER 59
The pipe wouldn’t twist. Rhea let out a muffled groan of despair. She pulled it with all her strength, not caring if it made any noise, not caring if the other guy, Daniel, woke up. Come on . . .
Nothing.
The mechanism wasn’t the same as in her sink back home. Maybe it was similar, but not close enough. It just wouldn’t twist off, despite the one nut she’d loosened completely.
She would have to do the other one. Once she unloosened that one, she’d be free for sure. Except no matter how much she tried, it wouldn’t budge. Not even a fraction of an inch. Her angle was all wrong for that one. And she was getting tired. And she could see the rust. So much rust . . .
A thought occurred to her. She slid her bound hands so that the zip ties lay directly over the rusty connection and then lifted her body, placing all of her weight on the pipe.
It groaned. Flakes of rust dropped around her. She tried to pull it, but with almost no support, it was impossible.
Still, maybe it gave just a bit?
She lowered herself, took a few deep breaths, then tried again. And again. The pipe held fast.
She straightened, raised her hands, and with one swift move, pulled them down. The pipe clanged, the noise making her heart sink. But a lot more rust dropped around her. She tried it again.
Clang.
And again.
Clang.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
She stopped. Then lifted herself, dropping her weight on the pipe. Something gave. She was doing it! The entire connection was so rusty she could break it.
And the door opened.
She dropped at once, hiding the scalpel with her body.
Daniel shuffled in, blinking, yawning. He wore an open bathrobe, a pair of underwear, socks, and a greasy white shirt. He glanced at her, shook his head, then stepped to the toilet bowl. Rhea looked away. She could feel him leering at her as he peed.
He finished; didn’t flush; trudged over to the sink, just above her; and washed his hands and face.
Water trickled from the two nuts that connected the drain, spattering on the floor, making a noise like rainfall. Rhea hurriedly shuffled sideways, letting the water trickle on her hair and shoulders instead. If he noticed the splashing water, he’d figure out what she was doing, and it’d be the end . . .
He didn’t. He finished washing in the sink and turned the water off.
“Hey, did you make any breakfast?” he called out to his friend.
There was, of course, no response.
Daniel left the bathroom. She imagined him checking the rooms to see if his friend was there.
When he returned, there was a gleam in his eye.
“Well,” he said, “looks like we were left alone. Unchaperoned.”
Rhea breathed fast through her nose, terrified.
“I could be done with you now.” Daniel smiled. “Thirty seconds, and no more Rhea Deleon. That’s your name, right? Rhea Deleon? The police are looking for you. Well, you and me, really. We were the stars of the evening news yesterday. Maybe I can take care of you, and the police will find the remains of Rhea Deleon, discarded in the river. What do you think of that?”
She shook her head, and his smile widened. He clearly enjoyed her reaction, enjoyed her fear. And she was terrified.
He tapped his lips thoughtfully. “No reason we can’t have fun, right? I doubt my partner would begrudge me that.”
He stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the door open behind him.
Where was the other guy? He’d said he was just going to the pharmacy. It’d been at least an hour since he’d left; he should have returned by now. It didn’t matter. She had a few minutes at the most. She needed to make them count.
She strained against the pipe, lifting herself. The pipe groaned. Then with a sudden jolt, it broke, drenching her with sludge.
She was free. For a few seconds she just breathed heavily, not believing what had just happened. She fumbled at the gag, but it was tight, and her hands were still tied to each other. She picked up the scalpel and tried to wedge it between her hands and