“How did you find us?” Jess demanded from the middle set of seats of the Grim Angels’ SUV.

 

“You should have known you couldn’t hide from me,” Val said from the front passenger seat.

 

“I shouldn’t have to,” she countered, “but you didn’t answer the question.”

 

“We looked at Kat’s phone bill. That told us, more or less, where you were. Then we greased a few palms to find out which cell tower the calls were coming from. Then it was just a matter of poking around. We found Scott’s bike in the parking lot yesterday.”

 

Jess fumed. She should have known better than to call from home, but it never occurred to her that they could track her back to Greensboro, much less what part of town. “Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

 

“Because, he’s not right for you. I want you out of the life.”

 

“I was out of the life! Scott turned in his colors.”

 

“You’re never out of the Angels, you know that. Once a Grim Angel, always a Grim Angel.”

 

“You know he’s going to come for me.”

 

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

 

“He’ll kill you.”

 

Val smiled and lit another cigarette. “He can try. Oh, sure, he will probably guess what happened, but what’s he going to do? He doesn’t know the area, and we’ll pick him up the moment he arrives in Detroit, not to mention that you’ll be under guard until he’s dealt with. He may be a badass—according to Jason he is a badass—but nobody is badass enough to take on the entire club.”

 

“You’re using me as bait!” Jess squawked.

 

“No. I’m taking you home where you will be safe. But if he comes for you…” Val smiled, a nasty smile that didn’t touch his eyes, “We’ll be ready for him. Killing him is just a bonus.”

 

Jess stared at him until he turned his attention back to the road, trying to fry his brain with her malice as she clammed up and refused to say another word. By the time they hit the West Virginia border, she was nodding, despite the stench of the men’s cigarettes. When they reached Charleston, West Virginia, she woke up, groggy and hung over from her fitful sleep, and having to pee in the worst way.

 

“I have to pee…bad,” she said.

 

“Fucking women and their tiny little bladders,” Neil muttered from the driver’s seat.

 

“Fine. I’ll just piss in the seat then,” she threatened.

 

“Keep your panties up,” Val chuckled. “We need to stop for dinner anyway, and I’m out of cigarettes.”

 

They found a McDonald’s attached to a convenience store just off the interstate where they could gas the SUV, eat and buy road food and cigarettes. Jess bailed out of the SUV, intent on getting to the restroom, but Neil caught her by the arm before she made it three steps.

 

“Ah, ah, ah…” he clucked as he jerked her to a stop.

 

“Look, I’m about to piss myself! So either let me go or come on!”

 

“Go with her,” Val said. “Make sure she’s alone.”

 

Neil guided her into the restaurant and to the restrooms. He walked into the women’s side without pause, dragging her in behind him. “Out!” he growled at a woman changing the diaper of her infant son.

 

Jess couldn’t wait and jerked her arm free and hurried into a stall, barely getting her pants down and settled onto the toilet before the water began to flow. After peeing for what felt like hours, she finally finished. She was alone but she knew the inside of a McDonalds’ restroom well and knew there was nothing useful at hand. Her hands washed, she exited the bathroom to find Neil, his arms crossed over his chest, standing in front of the door with two women waiting to enter.

 

“You’re such a prick,” she muttered as she stepped out from behind him. “Sorry…sorry,” she mumbled as she walked past the glaring women, her head down in embarrassment.

 

***

 

Scott kept the hammer down on the Ford. He had no illusions about catching Jess and the Angels that had taken her and, even if he did, he would probably blow right past them without even noticing, but he kept pushing just the same. The truck was nearly full of gas when he left Greensboro, and he intended to make as much time as possible.

 

He was doing over ninety when he passed a Virginia state cop going the other way on the interstate. He saw the brake lights illuminate in the rear view as the officer began to slow to turn and give chase. He didn’t have time to be stopped by some Dudley Doright, so he buried the throttle, the truck surging ahead. He kept the pedal on the floor, the truck vibrating slightly as it bludgeoned a massive hole in the air. He could see the blue lights flashing behind him, but they were well back and it would take a while for the cop to run him down with the lead he had. He passed the first exit, but took the second, not touching the brakes until the very last moment, braking as hard as possible, but then running the stop sign at the bottom of the ramp and accelerating hard away from the interstate. He didn’t know where this road led, but he would worry about that after he shook the cop.

 

***

 

Jess sat alone in the way-back seat of the Suburban. She felt like crying in anger and frustration, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her tears. As they continued north in the growing darkness she wondered if Scott had found her phone, and more importantly, if the phone recorded their voices. She was confident he would come for her, if he knew what had happened. As the hour grew late she began to feel drowsy again and eventually leaned her head against the window and slept.

 

***

 

Scott pulled into a service station, weary but still only half way into the ten-hour drive. He had finally navigated his way back to the interstate, but he had lost valuable time on backroads. He swiped his card in the pump to start the gas flowing and then, as the truck filled, he dashed into the attached mini-mart to empty his bladder. On the way back to the truck he grabbed a Gatorade and a nasty-looking sandwich from the cooler. He wasn’t hungry but he still had a long way to go and eating would help keep him awake. Items paid for, he hurried to the truck, hung up the nozzle, and turned back toward the interstate, the truck roaring up the onramp at full throttle.

 

***

 

Jess started awake as the SUV rocked and bumped as it turned onto a gravel drive. It took her a moment to wake up enough to realize where they were: Val’s farm. She yawned and stretched, trying to work the kinks out. As the truck eased to a stop, her mother stepped out of the house into a pool of light cast by one of the floods mounted on the house.

 

“Val! What the hell are you doing?” Kat snapped.

 

“Good to see you, too, Kat,” Val deadpanned as Jess climbed out of the truck.

 

“Jessica! Are you okay? Val! How could you? You kidnapped your own niece? What’s the matter with you? Are you fucking stupid? You want the cops crawling all over this place?”

 

“Just shut the fuck up,” Val snarled at his sister. “I’m in no mood for your shit. She never should have run off in the first place. All I did was bring her home.”

 

Kat glanced between her brother and her daughter. “Val, for god’s sake! She’s a grown woman! You can’t just kidnap her!”

 

Val waved a dismissive hand at Kat and stomped away toward his house as Kat turned toward Jess. “Jess…I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

 

“I’m fine, but I’m not staying here,” Jess said. She would have said more but Jake took her by the arm and started her walking toward the house.

 

“Come on. You two can have your reunion after we get some sleep.”

 

“Where are you taking her?” Kat demanded.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Kat. Nobody is going to hurt her. She’s going to have the basement all to herself.”

 

“No! Let her say at my place! Please! I’ll make sure she stays there. Come on, Jake, you know you can trust me!”

 

“Can’t do it, Kat. Val’s orders. She is to stay here until he says otherwise. Go home, Kat, and get some sleep. You look like shit and I feel like shit. She’ll be fine until tomorrow.”

 

Kat fumed, but she knew this was a battle she couldn’t win, not tonight. “Okay, fine. But I’ll be back later this morning, and if she has so much as a scratch on her…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” Jake said not even slowing.

 

***

 

“’lo…Jess?” Ron Nebbles’ sleepy voice came from Jess’s phone.

 

“Mr. Nebbles, this is Scott Murphy. I met you about a month ago, with Jess. Remember me?”

 

“What? Yeah…hang on a minute while I get myself together.”

 

Scott heard some muttering and movement, but he couldn’t tell if it was Ron’s voice or someone else. He waited impatiently for Ron to come back on the line as the lights of Detroit approached.

 

“Do you know what time it is?” Ron’s annoyed voice came back.

 

“Yes, I know, almost four. I’m sorry for waking you, but Jess is in trouble. Val took her yesterday. I’m almost to Detroit and I need a place to crash for a few hours.”

 

There was a long silence. “Did you say that Val took Jess? What do you mean took her? As in kidnapped her?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Son of a bitch…Yeah, okay. You know how to get here?”

 

“I think so.”

 

“Okay. Coffee will be waiting.”

 

***

 

In his exhausted state, Scott took several wrong turns in the dark, but he finally found a landmark he recognized, and pulled into Ron’s driveway just as the clock ticked over to 4:45. He parked behind the battered Toyota and crawled out of the truck. As much as he wanted to start the search for Jess immediately, he had been up almost twenty hours and knew he was in no shape to help anyone.

 

Ron opened the door as Scott approached. “Did you drive all night? You look like hell,” he asked, handing him a mug of strong, aromatic coffee.

 

“Yeah,” Scott said, taking the cup and nodding in appreciation as he stepped into Ron’s kitchen. “I’m sorry to wake you like this, but I didn’t know who else to call.”

 

“No, I’m glad you did. Are you sure Val took her?” Scott pulled Jess’s phone from his pocket and played the recording for Ron. “That rat-bastard son-of-a-bitch,” Ron growled. “We need to call the cops.”

 

“No. No cops.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because, despite the recording, there is no solid proof of who performed the kidnapping, nor any indication of where she might be. The cops will show up, ask around, and Val will deny everything. We don’t know where they’ve taken her, and if they show up with a warrant, and she isn’t there, then we’ve tipped our hand. No…better that I find her first and then go to the cops if we have to. At least then we can point them in the right direction.”

 

“Yeah, but this is what—” Ron began.

 

“Ron, look, I’ve been thinking about this for over ten hours. This is the best way; trust me. Let me find her, so when the cops come busting in, they will actually find her and not give Val a chance to move her someplace else. If I can’t track her down in a couple of days, then we may have to go to the cops, but let’s give my idea a try first. I don’t want to give Val any excuse to hurt her. Hell, she may not even be in Michigan for all I know.”

 

“She said Detroit,” Ron pointed out.

 

“I know. But did she know that or did she just assume that since it was Val that was taking her? See the problem? We don’t have enough information yet. Just give me a chance, Ron. Please.”

 

Ron licked his lips. “Fuck! What can I do?”

 

“Give me a place to crash for a few days. We’re pretty strapped for cash at the moment, after the move, and if I don’t have to stay at a—”

 

“Done,” Ron interrupted. “What else?”

 

“Nothing for the moment. I just need to catch a few hours’ sleep, then I’m heading to Val’s.”

 

“You think she’s there?”

 

“I have no idea. On the one hand, it’s out in the boonies, which is good for stashing someone. But on the other hand, that will be the first place someone would look. I have to start somewhere and that seems as good a place as any. I just need to pick up a whiff of her somewhere, and go from there.”

 

Ron stared at Scott a moment. “If you get her out of this, you end it, once and for all.”

 

Scott extended his hand, and Ron took it. “You have my word.”