Page 82 of Four Cards Exposed

It was all he could do not to start sobbing. James held himself ramrod straight and followed Darryl into Susan’s living area.

Natalie was there, wearing gloves. Darryl was also wearing gloves.

James didn’t have any gloves. He couldn’t even think of where he’d left his—

Natalie placed a pair of gloves in his hand. He took them gratefully.

“We found her purse,” Natalie explained, pointing at a small black bag lying on the wooden countertop separating the living area from the kitchen. “It’s the same one she was carrying last night.”.

James noticed how carefully the bag’s edges were aligned with the edge of the countertop. Exactly as he would have placed it. “Is that how it was found?”

Natalie nodded. “We moved it in order to check inside, but put it back exactly where it was. The cash is there, but her phone and her wallet are gone.”

James looked around the small, neat living area. Susan had made it home last night. Whatever happened, it’d happened here. But she hadn’t had a chance to fight. Whoever took her overpowered her quickly.”

“We found something else, as well,” Rob said. James followed him back to the front door. “Look at these scratches on the lock. I think somebody forced their way inside, and waited for her to get back.”

“Her keys?” James asked. His throat felt raw, like he’d been inside a fire.

“They’re gone as well.”

“Somebody intercepted her as she got home.”

The bedroom and bathroom were neat and tidy. James noticed a simple black hair band on the bathroom floor. He knew how much Susan hated it when her hair got in her face. Wherever she was, she'd be missing this. She would want it back. Before he could talk himself out of it, he picked it up and placed it in his pocket.

He gripped the sink—Susan’s sink. God, he could smell her everywhere. A sob wracked his body, and he looked up fearfully, hoping nobody had heard. He needed to remain in control, or he’d be kicked off the investigation, and with good reason.

25

* * *

Susan

The hard side of a wall pressed against her back. Still half-asleep, Susan scooted away—only to hit another wall.

She shook her head, waiting for the nightmare to clear. But the hardness under her head and body told her she wasn’t lying in her bed, and as she spread her out her arms, she touched the sides of something hard.

A coffin.

She was inside a coffin.

Susan whimpered, the sound abnormally loud in the small space.

She straightened her legs, hit something metallic while her knees were still bent. Whatever it was, it was hard. She didn’t have enough space to stretch out.

Too wide.

Too narrow.

Not a coffin, after all.

Some kind of box.

Her chest tightened. It was like one of her nightmares, but worse, because it was real. There’d be no pinching herself awake this time around.

A part of her wanted to curl into a little ball. Curl up and die.

Another part of her wanted to know how the fuck she’d ended up in a box.