Prior Bad Acts

43

CAREY FELT DIZZY and nauseated. The oily scent of exhaust was inescapable.

She had to hope the secret destination was near, or she would die of carbon monoxide poisoning. Then again, what lay in store for her at the end of this ride would be nothing good. She would probably wish she had succumbed during the ride.

She had moved her hands around the cramped trunk, feeling for anything she could use as a weapon-a tire iron, a wrench, anything. But she found nothing.

As she turned onto her right side, something rectangular pressed against her hip bone. She felt it with her fingertips and a quick burst of hope shot through her.

Cell phone.

She remembered sticking it in the pocket of her jeans after speaking to Kovac the night before. David had just stormed out of the house. She had called Kovac to tell him. He had been standing right outside her house, ready to come to her rescue.

When she had finally gone up to bed, she had been too exhausted to bother undressing. Or maybe it had been that she already felt too exposed and vulnerable.

Hands shaking, she fished the phone out of her pocket and punched a button to light it up.

911.

Fingers fumbled as she pressed the numbers. Misdialed. Tried again.

Her heart was banging against her ribs like a fist.

The only sound the telephone made was a series of beeps, then nothing. The lighted screen showed the message “No Service.”

No service.

No signal.

No help.