Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Peter didn’t react to that. He kept his focus on the wall, calculating.
“I’m sorry, Peter,” Kyle said suddenly, throwing his hands out as if this were a minor disagreement. “I shouldn’t have killed Laura. That was a mistake.”
May shook her head slowly. She needed to keep him talking. Every word mattered. “So you told Jack to kill Ivy?” How was any of this making sense?
“Yes,” Kyle said without hesitation.
“While you were fishing?” she pressed.
Kyle exhaled impatiently. “He and Ivy got drunk, and he decided to confide in her about my accidentally killing Laura. Apparently Ivy panicked, and he had to subdue her. So he called me, freaking out.”
May’s stomach twisted. “So you told him to kill her?”
“Of course.” Kyle looked at her as if she were slow. “I told him to strangle her and leave her by the water, just like Laura. He had an alibi for the first death. I had an alibi for the second. We were covered.” He glanced down at Jack’s body and shook his head. “I didn’t expect him to lose his mind over her.”
May felt no surge of pity for Jack. The thought of Ivy fighting for her life while someone she trusted strangled her made bile rise in her throat. May shivered. “What about the woman who disappeared years ago? Your ex?”
“She deserved it, too,” Kyle said, sounding almost bored. “Wasn’t my first and obviously wasn’t my last.”
May gagged.
Peter straightened slowly. Even now, in a white golf shirt and pressed black jeans, he looked put together. No blood on him. May’s eyes flicked to Kyle. Red golf shirt. Tan Dockers. Still immaculate. There hadn’t been much spatter.
“Okay.” Peter opened a cabinet and began rifling through supplies. “There we go.” He pulled out a long, wide elastic bandage.
May pressed herself back against the exam table. There was nowhere to go.
“Hold the gun on her,” Peter said.
Kyle adjusted his stance and aimed it squarely at her again.
“This is a terrible idea,” May said, trying to keep steady. “You’re not going to get away with this.”
Peter’s shoulders sagged. “Of course we are.” He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed her wrists, and yanked her toward him. She struggled, but he was stronger than he looked. He forced her wrists together and wrapped the elastic bandage tightly around them, pulling it hard enough that her fingers tingled. He knotted it twice, and then three times.
She kicked out but didn’t do any damage.
“I’m sorry about this, Dr. Smirnov.” Peter looped another bandage around her face and mouth, pulling it tight enough that it pressed painfully against her jaw. He tied it behind her head, securing it in place.
Her breath came faster through her nose. Her hands were bound. The gun never wavered.
Kyle laughed, the sound ugly. “I’ve wanted to gag her forever. I just didn’t think a medical bandage would be the thing to do it.”
Peter ignored him. He pulled gauze from the supply drawer and pressed thick pads against the dark stain spreading across Jack’s chest. He wrapped two more elastic bandages around the torso, binding the gauze tight.
May listened frantically for anyone in the hospital. Could she even scream?
“Hopefully he won’t drip too much on the way.” Peter crouched, braced himself, and hoisted Jack over his shoulder with a grunt. “We’re parked in the back. We’ll go out the rear door.”
“And then what?” Kyle asked.
Peter shot him a look. “Just get her.”
Kyle grabbed her, and she twisted violently. The bandage around her mouth bit into her cheeks as she tried to scream. The sound died in her throat. Then he bent, grabbed her around the waist, and flipped her over his shoulder. Fear roared through her. She kicked hard, catching him in the side. He tightened his grip around her thighs. “Hold still, damn it.”
She tried to slam her bound hands against his back, but the elastic wrap limited her movement. Her wrists burned where it dug into her skin.
“Let’s go.” Peter led the way.
They moved quickly through the office and down the hallway. The back of the clinic faced the tree line. A narrow gravel strip served as staff parking. At this hour, it was empty.
May’s stomach rolled. She wanted to vomit, but with the bandage tight across her mouth she would choke on it. She forced herself to breathe through her nose and kept struggling.
Where was Ace?
“All right. We’re clear. Let’s go,” Peter said, pushing the door open.
Cold air hit her skin as they stepped outside. In a matter of seconds, Peter reached a dark Buick parked near the edge of the lot. He opened the trunk and dropped Jack inside with a heavy thud.
Kyle followed and, just as roughly, tossed May in after him.
She hit the hard carpet and twisted away from Jack’s body, panic spiking inside her. The space was too tight to move. The trunk was narrow and shallow, the lining rough against her back. She tried to force sound past the bandage.