Carly opened her eyes and cursed. Her head felt like someone had tried to split it like kindling. For a second, she didn’t remember who that could have been, but then it all came back to her at once. It was that skinny red-haired guy by the river. She looked around carefully. Yep, there was the redhead—sitting on a chair staring at her with a completely bored look on his face.

Carly was in a chair too, but her arms were tied to it. She tried to move her legs and found they were bound by rope to the chair.

Dammit! How had she gotten herself into this? Carly felt a surge of regret. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going. No one knew anything about her trip to Monroe Manufacturing. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t even followed the basic rules of journalist safety and made her whereabouts known to someone.

“She’s awake.” The redhead still looked as bored as could be, and Carly felt irrationally strong anger about that.

The sound of movement came from behind her and then the other guy, the one with the ham hands, wandered into her peripheral vision. “I’ll call the boss,” he said.

These guys sounded like they belonged in a mafia movie, not an upholstery manufacturing plant in a medium-sized town.

“Why am I tied up?” Carly asked. “This is kidnapping. You know that, right?”

Redheaded Guy smirked, and Ham Hands said, “We’re not really sticklers for the law around here.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Well, my editor knows where I am, so he’s going to start looking for me when I don’t show back up at the paper when I’m supposed to. He really is a stickler—especially when it comes to his reporters’ safety.

“He didn’t care much about the last one he lost.” Carly was so surprised to hear Redheaded Guy speak that it took a second for his words to reach her brain. “What did you say?”

Ham Hands kicked Redheaded Guy’s boot with his own and gave him a warning look, but RG just scoffed. “You really think she’s gonna make it outta here to talk? Last one didn’t, and I bet the boss will want this one to get the same treatment.”

Carly had never felt such terror. These guys were saying they’d already killed a reporter and she was next. Wait, didn’t Jessica say something about a missing reporter? Yes! Someone named Samantha, whose cubicle was next to Carly’s. She must be who RG and HH were talking about. She swallowed hard and fought the urge to cry. If she was going to die, Carly wasn’t going to give these goons the satisfaction of seeing her weep.

The heavy door creaked, and Stuart Monroe stalked in. His face was clouded with fury. He stopped a foot in front of Carly and glared down at her. She tried to meet his gaze without flinching. It took everything she had. Maybe she could still get out of this by acting like she didn’t know anything.

“What’s going on?” Her voice quivered intentionally.

Stuart spoke like a ventriloquist, hardly moving his mouth. “I was going to ask you that. Didn’t I tell you there was no story here and you should go away?”

“I did. Go away, I mean. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Monroe glanced at the goons. HH spoke. “She was around back. The pipe was running, and she had a camera.”

Carly knit her brows together. “Pipe? I don’t know about a pipe. I . . .” She let her eyes cloud over and lose focus. “I don’t remember anything.”

“Pete hit her pretty hard,” HH said.

Monroe sighed. “We don’t have a choice now. She’ll have to be dealt with. Handle it.”

“No!” Carly tried to leap out of the chair, but the bonds held tight.

Monroe ignored her, crossing the room to the door. Before he could open it, RG spoke. “Her car’s up in Pine Hills somewhere.”

The plant’s owner didn’t slow down or turn around. “Get it out of there.”

The heavy door clanged into place behind Monroe, and Carly trembled in her chair. They were going to kill her. She thought about Penny, her parents, her brother, and what a short life she’d had. Strong regret flooded through her. Carly had been stupid to come here without backup, but she didn’t deserve to die for one less than brilliant action.

“Where’d you put her stuff?”

RG stood up. “In my locker.”

“Go get it. Her car keys are probably in there. We can leave her belongings in the car when we decide where to put it.”

RG nodded and then jerked his head toward Carly. “Where we gonna put her?”

HH regarded her with hooded eyes. “Same place we put the other one, I guess.”

“That swamp out west of 49? Okay. I’ll get her stuff. You get the towels and shovel.”

The two men left the room, and Carly frantically tugged on her bindings. It would probably only be a few minutes before they came back, and getting loose wasn’t likely, but she couldn’t sit there and not try.

When the door opened again, her heart sank. That was way faster than she expected. Her time was up, and she was going to die.

But it wasn’t either of the goons who slipped in through the open door.

It was Donovan.

He crossed over to her and pulled out a pocket knife, slicing the ropes at her hands and feet. “Come on,” he said. “The cops will be here any minute. We should try to make our way toward them.”

Carly stood, but her legs wouldn’t hold her. She crashed down to the floor in a heap. The faint sound of sirens floated into the room.

Donovan sprinted to the door and locked it and then crossed back to Carly, sinking down to the floor. “Maybe we’ll just stay here and let the cops find us,” he said gently, pulling her into his arms.

He kissed the top of her head, and the relief at realizing she was alive and going to stay that flowed through her stronger and faster than the river she’d crossed earlier. Carly couldn’t hold tears back anymore. She wept in Donovan’s arms while he rocked her on the cold cement floor.