Holy crap.” Caity Sherman shook her head and tried to focus her thoughts. “What the hell just happened?”
Richard—or Andrew, or whatever his name was—didn’t answer. He was driving. They were out of the city now, headed south on the Delaware Expressway. Richard hadn’t said anything since he’d thrown her in the car. Before that, she could barely remember.
“Where are we going?” she said. “Say something. Please.”
Richard kept driving. Caity looked at his face and shivered. His eyes were blank. His face was expressionless. His apartment had just been invaded by a crazy psychopath and he should have been absolutely losing his shit. He wasn’t even sweating.
Caity, meanwhile, was scared enough for the both of them, and by now they’d put a good fifteen miles between themselves and the attacker. Her head hurt. She was pretty sure she had a concussion. Somebody had just tried to kill her and she had no idea why. “Richard,” she said. “Andrew. Where are we going?”
Richard blinked and looked at her. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Caity looked out the sports car’s side window. Saw industry, warehouses. She shivered again. “You’re just driving.”
“Yeah.”
He was into something serious, she could tell. He was a part of this madness. Real people would have cornered the first cop they saw. Explained the situation and let the professionals handle things. Richard hadn’t even looked for a cop. He just drove.
Now he pulled out a cell phone. Held it to his ear and waited. “Yes,” he said. “There was a problem.”
He listened. Caity listened. The man on the other end said something. “I had to leave the apartment,” he said.
Shit, she thought. That’s putting it mildly.
“Interstate 95. Southbound.” Richard glanced at her. “A civilian. She was in danger.” He looked at her. Bit his lip and shook his head. Suddenly, there was emotion in his eyes again. There was fear. “No,” he said. “No. She was in danger.”
Caity shivered and looked out the window. The highway was grim and featureless. It occurred to her that Richard might be taking her somewhere to kill her. She looked at him and tried to convince herself she was crazy. She couldn’t.
“I understand,” Richard said. He looked out the front windshield. “Exit 6. Just across the state line.” Another pause. “I understand.”
Richard ended the phone call. Signaled right and cut across two lanes of traffic to the Exit 6 off-ramp. “We’re safe,” he said. “My boss is coming to get us.”