The sound of water lapping at rocks broke through my fog. I opened my eyes and the sun painfully seared my retinas. My mouth was dry. My head throbbing. I swore I could feel my pulse inside my skull. Confused, I shifted, trying to figure out where I was. I was on a soft plastic cushion and I could hear…water. The lake.

I sat up straight, panicked, suddenly remembering the last words Nick had spoken to me. He was the killer. Not Cameron Russo. But Nick Pitrello, the guy who had always made me inexplicably nervous. My arm jerked backward. Holy cannoli, I was chained to a rattan sofa with yellow and green floral cushions. Where on earth was I? Half-sitting up, my head pounding, my heart racing double time, I moistened my lips and tried to look around.

With relief, I realized I was alone at least. I was in what looked like a boat house. The room was narrow, with a low ceiling made of natural stone, and the opening in front of me showed Lake Erie. I couldn’t see any shore, so I suspected the building was suspended over the rocks along the shoreline. If it had once been a boat house, it was currently being used as a bar or party room. There were laminate floors, retro rec room furniture, a bar with a dozen liquor bottles on a shelf behind it, and a platform that was serving as a stage, complete with a set of drums.

My head hurt too much to think straight, but the one thing that was very clear was that the sun over the lake was not setting. It was rising. It was morning. “Oh my God,” I whispered out loud, righting myself all the way, despite the trembling in my arms and the roil of nausea through my stomach. Nick had drugged me—that was obvious, given my lack of memory and the way I felt now. Like something the cat had dragged in, then decided to drag back out.

What a bastard. And after I had talked myself into liking him.

I hoped he had fallen into the lake and drowned. Of course, then I would be trapped here, alone. I yanked hard on the chain, but all it did was send a jarring pain through my wrist. Mustering what energy I had, I opened my mouth and screamed as loud as I could. “Help! Help me! Somebody help me, I’m trapped!”

I could be wrong, but it seemed to me the boat house belonged to a residence, not a business or a restaurant. It just looked like it was for personal use. That meant it was possible there were neighbors within earshot.

But no one showed up to rescue me. Instead, Nick appeared in the entrance, the lake a shimmering blue behind his lying, deceptive, sallow face. I was torn between wanting to kick him in the nuts out of pure rage and being frozen with paralyzing fear. This man had drugged me and claimed to be a killer. It was very possible I wasn’t getting out of this room alive.

“Shut up,” he said. “Just shut the hell up.” He didn’t sound like the same nervous, mild-mannered accountant I had spent time with.

His tone made me tense up. I tried yanking the chain again but it held, looped around the furniture. “Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice raspy from screaming.

“You know why. Because I don’t want to get caught. Not when I’ve just started.” He moved into the interior of the narrow room, his walk confident. He had a length of rope in his left hand.

Oh crap. He was going to strangle me. No blood. Easy to dispose of me. I was going to end up like Hannah, crying in some woman’s kitchen, a ghost. Dead. I started screaming again and tried to stand up, dragging the couch a foot away from the wall. I was crouched over, unable to stand to my full height because of the chain.

Nick cracked me across the face, which stunned me into silence. I tucked my head down, afraid of what he might do next.

“I really did think you were beautiful,” he said, leaning over me, stroking my hair.

My stomach clenched and I tried to shift out of his reach. It was violating. What did he want, a thank you? Screw that.

“I did want to date you. I honestly thought we would have made a cute couple. But you were still hung up on that cop, weren’t you? I could see it when you looked at him. I would have given you some time though, because we’re of the same mind. Tidy, clean, successful.”

I stared at the laminate floor. I couldn’t look at him. His words were horrifying. He and I were nothing alike. “Where are we?” I asked, gathering my courage. I needed to buy time. Figure out a plan.

“Look at me and I’ll tell you.”

Eww. I shivered, in spite of my desire not to show him any fear. I really needed to listen to my weirdar. You know, that radar that goes off inside you when someone is a freak? I forced myself to lift my head so I was staring up at him. “Where are we?” I repeated.

“The old boathouse behind my parent’s house in Bratenahl. They’re out of town for the weekend.” He gave me a smile. “They’ve started spending winters in Florida, so it was a perfect place for me to experiment a little. I kept the bodies here for months, but I had to ditch everything before my parents got home in May, obviously. The amazing thing is how frustratingly long it’s taken for any of the body parts to be found. I finally moved them because the game wasn’t any fun if I was the only player, you know what I mean?”

I nodded. It’s best to agree with crazy. Especially when you’re chained up. “So you brought them in on boats? I guess what I don’t understand is what we saw Saturday night then. Who was the guy tossing stuff into the river?”

Nick shrugged. “No idea. That is what I call a happy coincidence. I really did just want to show you the view—you can’t imagine what it felt like when I was drinking a beer and saw you find my work. I mean, how amazing was that?”

Yeah, so great.

Uncomfortable still hunched over from the short chain, I decided to sit down on the couch again. My head was still throbbing and my legs were shaky.

“It felt like you were destined to belong to me.” He ran a finger down my cheek and I tried not to shudder. “I thought that you were supposed to be my lover, but maybe not. Maybe you’re just supposed to be my first victim of the new season.”

Nope, nope, nope. I was going to board the first train to Nopeville. I was terrified and Nick was insane, but I wasn’t going out that easily. I’d never even had the chance to own a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes or give birth to a baby ginger. I hadn’t seen Marner naked or watched the Indians win a World Series. I hadn’t helped Ryan find his Higher Purpose and go into the light. I had things to do, people, and Nick the Nutbag wasn’t going to cut all that short.

His words gave me an idea. “Why can’t I be your girlfriend?” I couldn’t say “lover.” The thought made me want to gag. “I thought we were headed in that direction. I mean, look who I turned to when I was upset. You.”

I wasn’t sure what motivated a sociopath to want a girlfriend. Did he just want to win? Was I the final piece of the puzzle to show the world he was successful? The good job, the cool apartment, the girlfriend who never met a floral dress she didn’t love? I had no idea. I didn’t understand what the desired outcome was, but I did know that I would say whatever the heck I needed to say in order to buy myself time.

It was morning and I had missed dinner with my mother, after assuring her I would be there. That had to have set off alarm bells. I had also mentioned my plans to Marner in my text around 4:30. I had an appointment this morning in Bay Village at a newly remodeled flip house at eight a.m. and I suspected I had already missed it. People would start to talk and wonder where I was. That meant I just needed to draw this out and stay alive as long as possible.

“I’m not stupid, Bailey. Even if you were interested in me before, you’re not now. You’re a good girl, not the girl who would be my partner in crime or find it hot that I have no problem killing someone.”

He was definitely right about that, though I took exception to being called a girl. A pet peeve, yes, but the very least of my concerns. Nick wasn’t going to be conned by me, so I decided there was nothing wrong with honesty. I would try every angle I could think of before I gave up. “I think you’re underestimating how much I want to be alive. Morality gets thrown out the window in survival situations.”

The smile on his face nauseated me. I fought the urge to shiver. How had I never noticed how dead his eyes were?

“So you want me to believe that you will be completely passive? That you’ll date me and won’t ever say a word to anyone about what I’ve done?”

“Why would I? Besides, there’s no proof, is there?” But I knew that couldn’t be true. If he had dismembered bodies, it would be damn near impossible to remove all traces of DNA. My heart sank. I felt like I had gambled and lost. I shifted on the sofa and it creaked and groaned. Rattan is never stable.

“You know as well as I do that there is always proof. There is no such thing as the perfect crime.” He did step away from me, though. He went over to the bar and dropped the rope he had been carrying on the top of it. “Do you want a drink?” He pulled down a bottle of vodka from the shelf. He scanned the collection of shot glasses, like he wanted a particular one.

“Sure.” I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to protest anything he said.

“Ah. The glass I want isn’t here. I’m going to go into the house and get it.” He came back over to me and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t go anywhere.” Then he laughed, because he knew I was at his mercy.

Goosebumps rose all over my scalp and radiated through my body.

It felt like I didn’t breathe until he exited, disappearing to the left in the open air. I exhaled loudly, my heart hammering in my chest. I reached over and tested the rattan the chain was wrapped around. It was hollow and might disengage from the frame if I could get the right leverage and kick the crap out of it. Unfortunately, I was barefoot. I had no idea where my shoes were. I stood up and pushed the sofa against the rock wall, trying to gain as much resistance as possible.

“I’ll watch the door and let you know if he’s coming back.”

I almost jumped out of my skin. I whirled around and saw Phil. “Oh my God, I had no idea you were here. I’m ridiculously happy to see you.” Phil couldn’t save me, but company was much appreciated. The fact that he looked upset touched me. I wondered if he remembered this room, or if his drugs hadn’t had time to wear off before Nick had killed him. I hoped he hadn’t suffered. The thought that he might have was overwhelming, especially now when I was trapped in here.

He nodded and went over to the doorway and disappeared briefly. “He’s walking across the lawn toward the house.”

“Phil, where are we? Are there houses around? Can I run to a neighbor?” I kicked the leg of the rattan sofa. Pain radiated through my foot but it did make a small cracking sound.

“The houses are huge, so they’re far apart. I think you should run to the right, then go straight up the far side of the neighbor’s house to the street. Keep going until you find a store. These houses are most likely empty during the day. The owners are probably at work.”

He had a good point. “Thanks, Phil,” I whispered, kicking again as hard as I could.

But when I turned back Phil was gone. I wasn’t sure if he had gone out into the yard again or if he had disappeared to wherever he went when he wasn’t around me. Being alone again kicked my panic into overdrive and I nailed the leg again, giving a grunt of effort. It made another straining sound, but it didn’t give way. I relaxed my shoulders, blew the hair out of my eyes, gathering my strength for another go at it. I looked around the room, but nothing was within reach of me. Or appeared like it would be helpful. I could drag the couch over to the bar, but what good did a bottle of scotch do me?

Channeling my inner badass, wishing I had taken karate when I was twelve like my mother had suggested, I nailed the leg with a kick to end all kicks and a rebel yell. Amazingly, the wood gave way. For half a second I was so stunned I just stood there panting, but then with trembling fingers I lifted the leg and moved the chain down the length of it and freed myself. Testing it, I realized it was too short to use as a weapon, and flopping around it was only going to slow me down. I stuffed the end in the pocket of my dress, grabbed the vodka bottle off the bar and turned, ready to run.

“Bailey?” A voice called out into the room.

The sun was creating a shadow, but I knew that voice. It was Marner, standing in the opening to the room from hell. My knees wobbled with relief. “I’m in here!” I started running.

But then I saw Nick appear behind Marner. “Jake, look out!”

Marner had already sensed his approach. He was turning, his elbow going up to crack Nick in the chin. For what felt like forever, but was probably only two minutes, they battled. Well, mostly Marner went Jason Bourne on him and Nick tried to defend himself. I wanted to rush past them and get the heck out of there, but they were blocking the exit. Mercifully, Nick was on the ground in short order and Marner’s knee was in his back.

As he handcuffed him, he glanced over at me. “Are you okay? I’m guessing since he just attacked me, that this isn’t a romantic overnight I’m interrupting.”

“What?” That caught me off guard. It had never occurred to me that Marner would think I was just gone for the night because I was having an adult slumber party with Nick Pitrello. The thought made me shudder. “Of course not! I told you I wasn’t interested in him.”

“I knew it,” Nick said, his face on the ground. “I knew you liked the cop. I find it really shady of you to be willing to spend the night with me when you’re involved with someone else, but I guess you’re not the first woman to cheat.”

Really? This was Nick’s tactic to get out of this? None of this rescue was going the way I would have expected and I felt like somehow I was still in danger. Like there was a possibility Nick would get away with this. There wasn’t any real evidence. It was he said, she said. If no one believed me, there wouldn’t even be probable cause to search the boathouse. Or if they did, it would be a traditional search, just looking for the obvious—bloodstains or belongings of victims. Yet there was none of that to the naked eye.

I did the only thing I could do. I yanked the chain out of my pocket and let it dangle. “I was drugged and brought here against my will. I woke up thirty minutes ago chained to a piece of rattan furniture, of all things. He confessed to killing at least two people.” I decided to just shove my way past them. I wanted out of that cave-like room. In the fresh air, I breathed deeply then whirled again to address Marner, who was frowning at me. “And for the record, what kind of person do you think I am?” I snapped, at my emotional limit. “I thought we agreed that we were dating now.”

“It was a joke,” he said, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “I look for humor in stressful situations.”

That didn’t sound like a joke and I wasn’t laughing. But our weirdness would have to wait. I was getting as far away from Nick Pitrello as possible. “I need to get out of here. How did you find me, by the way?”

“You need to wait so we can file a report. After your mom called me this morning worried that you hadn’t shown up for dinner last night, I used that phone app that finds your friends. It’s damn accurate. A little creepy, except this time it was a good thing.” Then he said into the phone, “Yeah, I need a team here.”

I was about to stomp off, but Marner stood and grabbed my arm, then pulled me into a hug. He hugged me hard, his lips brushing across my hair. I knew how much he cared about me then, because in cop mode he wasn’t one to show affection. But he murmured, “That was the worst night of my life.” He rubbed my wrist under the chain, and his breathing was anxious in my ear.

That was all I needed to hear. It made me feel better.

When he released me, I picked my way across a splinter-filled deck and onto a grassy lawn. My mouth was dry and I was hot all over, yet my skin was clammy to the touch. I was in shock, unsure of how to feel. When Nick had stared into my eyes I had thought for sure he was going to kill me. Just reach out and squeeze the life from my body. When I spotted a bench halfway across the extensive lawn, facing toward the lake, I sank down onto it, unable to hold myself up any longer.

That had been closer than I would like to contemplate, and I was angry with myself for missing all the signs. And for trusting a total stranger like Nick.

What added to the incongruity of the situation was how bucolic and beautiful the setting was. The home was a historic Tudor mansion, probably built in the 1920s. The exterior had been restored, and the patio and garden area were done English style, with lots of neat and orderly rows of hedges, flanked by roses. There was a water feature that made mine look like child’s play.

But the real star was the sweeping expanse of Lake Erie. It was nothing but shimmering blue water in the morning light. There was a sailboat out there, and nothing else. The room I had been in was tucked into a hill and all I could see from my current vantage point was the deck that extended from it over the water.

Phil sat on the bench beside me and lit a cigarette. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, after taking a drag and blowing it out.

“Thank you. And thanks for your help.” I put my hand on his leg, even though I had to hold it up and let it hover so it didn’t pass through his spiritual form. “I’m sorry that you weren’t okay.”

“I know.” He gave me a smile. “But I get to move on now. My parents can bury me and I’ll be in a better place, as cliché as that is.”

“It may be a cliché, but I’m happy for you.” I made a vow to make sure I attended the memorial service if Phil’s family had one for him.

He sat his half-smoked cigarette on the edge of the bench and dissolved. Like a mist dissipating as the rising sun burned it off. The cigarette remained, tip glowing, tendrils of smoke curling up and floating over my leg. My nerves were so shot, for half a second I contemplated picking it up and finishing it. But then my germ phobia got the best of me. Putting my mouth where a dead guy’s lips had been seemed like a bad idea. Plus it wasn’t real, was it? It was an illusion.

It burned down and fell through the slats of the bench and fizzled out.