Page 80 of Cold Silence
The shooter? Was he coming to kill her too? She was defenseless.
Purcell’s gun.She had to get to Purcell’s gun.
She scrambled toward him. Moved inch after inch. Footfalls crunching her way, sounding in her head like giant rolls of thunder from one of the many Orlando thunderstorms. She made it three feet. Hands jerked her back by the shoulders. An arm clamped around her waist and lifted her.
She bucked and kicked, twisting with all her might.
“Give it a rest, Claire,” a familiar voice sounded in her ear. “Don’t scream or the chloroform comes out again. Got it?”
“Eric?” His name eased past the lump in her throat.
“Surprise.” He lifted her up and walked to his car. All those years of bodybuilding allowed him to carry her as if she were a small child.
Julie’s Eric. Really? He was involved in the theft? Was Julie implicated in this too? Was that why she’d sent the text tonight?
The sting of betrayal bit hard, cutting Claire to the core. Eric opened his trunk and dropped her inside. Gone were the thoughts of betrayal. Now it was all about survival. Should she scream? No point on this deserted stretch of road. Maybe she could get away once he closed the trunk.
He grabbed her hands. Forced them behind her back and secured them with a rough rope. He moved to her ankles. He was taking no chances. He grabbed a rag. Shoved it into her mouth. She gagged. Fought to breathe.
He scowled at her. “You could’ve just given me the code, and it wouldn’t have to come to this.”
She wanted to spout back at him. He’d made sure she couldn’t. Not respond to his comment or say anything to anyone.
He slammed the trunk with a resounding thud.
Darkness settled in. Cloying. Fearful. Black.
No. No. No.She had to get out of there. She just had to.
The car’s engine roared to life.
Her heart raced.Thump. Thump. Thump.Pounding as if it could help her get out of this predicament. She struggled against the ropes. The rough fibers tore at her skin, but didn’t budge.
Panic blanketed her, cutting off her air.
Stop. Save your strength.
Yes, she had to rest. She would need every ounce of energy if she wanted to get out of this alive.
18
Disgusted, Travis cranked the engine on his car. He didn’t like that they hadn’t resolved Kent’s lie of working nights, and he didn’t want Claire to be working with a man who lied without knowing what he was hiding. So Travis had staked the guy out and tailed him to the house of a woman who worked at the institute. She met him at the door. Their kiss and embrace made the reason for his visit clear. He was having an affair. Most likely explained his whereabouts at night and the lies to his wife.
His behavior made Travis sick. If he was ever lucky enough to have a wife—lucky enough to have someone like Claire—he’d never sully his vows that way.
Claire. Maybe she’d been the one who called him while he was driving to the woman’s house.
He dug his phone out and saw a missed call and voicemail from her. He played the message. She’d gone to work to meet Julie about the theft. What in the world had Julie discovered?
He needed to know. He shifted into gear and pointed his SUV for the institute, the roads deserted and dark. He neared the building, and his phone rang. Caller ID declared the institute.
“Claire,” he answered.
“No, it’s Julie.” Her panicked tone hit Travis like a physical punch to the gut. “Claire’s been in a car accident.”
His heart plummeted. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. We don’t know where she is.”
