Page 8
“Maybe not the entire night, but we’re not going anywhere soon.” He crossed to what appeared to be a closet area. Inside, he found a pile of neatly folded tablecloths. “Here, we can use this as bedding.”
Fiona accepted the tablecloths, her brow furrowed with concern. “I don’t understand. Why do we have to wait to call for a rideshare?”
“I want the men in the SUV to give up their search first. If they’re driving around and see the rideshare car marked with a sticker, they’ll know the driver is coming for us.” He pushed the office chair out of the way to expose the space behind the desk. “Spread out the tablecloths here, then keep one to use as a sheet.”
She did so, her movements jerky. “Blankets would be warmer.”
He shrugged. “We’ll survive. Get settled because I need to turn the light off to preserve my phone battery.”
A minute later, she stretched out on the floor and looked up at him. “Okay. This is as good as it’s going to get.”
He nodded, then touched the screen to shut off the light. It took a full minute for his eyes to become accustomed to the darkness, then he gingerly lowered himself to the floor beside her. She scooted over to give him some room.
For several moments, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing. Fiona’s was still too fast; it was as if her body hadn’t recovered from their escape. He regulated his own deep breaths while straining to listen.
Hopefully, the armed men wouldn’t start searching the nearby properties, but if the situation were reversed and he was looking for someone, that’s exactly what he would do.
Fiona shifted beside him. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept on the floor before.”
He had slept in far worse places. “Do you remember your father? Or anything about your life? Where do you live now?”
“I don’t know where I live. Or my father. Or anything else.” Her voice sounded slightly bitter. “Don’t you think I’d tell you if I did?”
“That depends on why these guys have come after you.” He didn’t follow the racing circuit that closely to know about her personal life. Just the bits and pieces that occasionally hit the news. “Having your father’s phone number would help.”
“If I knew it, I’d tell you.” She sounded upset now. “I know you think I’m faking, but I’m not. I don’t know why I’m in danger. I don’t know who those men are or what they want.”
“Okay, try to relax.” He realized that hounding her wasn’t helping.
“I’m doing my best.” She sniffled, and he imagined she was close to tears. He must be a sucker for a damsel in distress because he reached out to touch her shoulder.
“I know you are. You’ve been very brave. Sleep might be the best way for your memory to return.” He had no idea if that was true or not, his expertise was trauma stabilization in the field of battle not patients with amnesia, but rest certainly couldn’t hurt. “I’m sure by morning you’ll remember everything.”
“You think so?” Her hopeful tone tugged at his heart. If this was an act for his benefit, she deserved an Academy Award.
“Yes. Close your eyes and relax. I’ll keep watch.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.” He fell silent, hoping she’d fall asleep. He was far too conscious of her breathing but found himself relaxing when she did.
He sat with his back against the metal drawers of the desk, listening intently. Normally, he’d position himself facing the door, but since the desk was their cover, he’d use his senses to alert him to an impending threat.
The only break in the silence was their breathing and the chirp of a cricket from somewhere in the basement. The furnace wasn’t on, which made sense as no church would pay to heat an empty building.
He closed his eyes and tried to take his own advice about getting some rest. Maybe he was giving these gunmen too much credit. They might have moved through the woods as if they had some sort of military or police training, but the way they’d driven back and forth indicated they weren’t exactly sure what to do next. No doubt they’d gone back in Lexington by now or maybe one of the other nearby cities like Nicholasville or Richmond.
Which brought him back to the pressing question as to why Fiona had been targeted in the first place. Had she seen something that put her in danger? Or was this a kidnapping attempt gone wrong? He had no doubt her father would pay a bundle of money to get his daughter back safely.
The more he toyed with that scenario, the more he could imagine how things had gone down. These guys must have grabbed Fiona for ransom, taken her out on a boat along the river where she’d managed to go overboard to escape.
He had to admit Fiona had shown incredible strength and grit during their escape from the cabin. Especially since she was exhausted and suffering from a head injury. He’d fully expected to carry her part, if not most, of the way.
Eyeing his watch, he realized the hour wasn’t as late as he’d originally thought, barely eight thirty. Their trek through the woods had taken longer than he’d wanted, but they’d managed to keep ahead of the gunmen. He felt certain they’d spent far too much time searching the cabin and garage for Fiona, before realizing they’d escaped through the bootlegging cellar.
The thought made him smile.
He must have dozed a bit because a muffled thud brought him fully awake. Straining to listen, he thought the sound was nothing more than his imagination, then he heard it again.
