THE MAZE by Catherine Counlter

To die for Hannah Paisley, perhaps there was a dose of irony there. No, she’d die anyway. Lacey seriously doubted that Hannah would survive this either. But Lacey naa no choice, none at all. “I’ll come.” Ten minutes.

“Let me see if Hannah’s all right.” “A real buddy, is she? That’s excellent. No shit from you then, Marty, or Pa will make her real sorry. Then it’ll be my turn to make you even sorrier.” “No shit from me, Marlin.” “Ladies shouldn’t say that word, Marty.” She wanted to laugh, realized it was hysteria bubbling in her throat, and kept her mouth shut. When she walked into the kitchen, Hannah was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall.

“I’m sorry, Hannah. Are you all right?” Hannah’s eyes weren’t focused, but she was trying. She probably had a concussion. “Sherlock, is that you?” “Yes.”

“Where is this place? Who are these animals?” Erasmus kicked her.

Hannah didn’t make a sound, but her body seemed to ripple with the shock of the pain.

“This is my place. These men are Marlin Jones and his father, Erasmus.”

She saw that Hannah realized the consequences in that single instant. She also knew that she was going to die. Both of them would die. Lacey saw her trying to loosen the knots on her wrists.

“Gentlemen,” Hannah said, looking from one to the other. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“Then you’ll probably have to go pee, just like Marty here,” Marlin said.

“Marty? Her name is Sherlock.”

Marlin kicked Hannah, just the way his father had. “Shut your mouth. I hate women who haven’t got the brains to keep their lips sewn together. I just might do that someday. Get myself a little sewing kit. I could use different colored thread for each woman. No water. Let’s get out of here. Who knows who’s going to show up?”

Five minutes, but it didn’t matter now. Lacey was bound and gagged, lying on her side in the backseat of her own car,

a blanket thrown over her. Hannah was behind her in the storage space.

One of them was driving a stolen car she’d seen briefly, a gray Honda Civic. Then she heard her Navajo revved up but didn’t know which one of them was driving. She guessed they’d leave her Mazda at the warehouse.

Lacey closed her eyes and prayed harder than she’d ever prayed in her life. If Marlin left her hands tied behind her, then there would be no way she could get to the Lady Colt strapped around her ankle.

Savich stretched his back, then his hamstrings. He heard a woman’s voice from the front of the gym and started to call out.

But it wasn’t Sherlock.

It had been an hour and twenty minutes. In that instant he knew something was very wrong. He called her house. No answer. He and Quinlan both had this gut thing. Neither of them ever ignored it. He immediately called Jimmy Maitland from his cell phone.

“It’s dinnertime, Savich. This better be good.”

“There’s no word about Marlin Jones, is there?”

“No, none yet. Why?”

“I haven’t seen Sherlock in over an hour. She was supposed to meet me at the gym. She hasn’t shown. I called her house. No answer. I know that Marlin and his father are here. I know it. I know they’ve got Sherlock.”

“How do you know that? What’s going on, Savich?”

“My gut. You’ve never before mistrusted my gut, sir. Don’t mistrust it now. I’m out of here and on my way to her house. She was going there to get more stuff. We made a firm time date. She isn’t here. Sherlock’s always on time. Something’s happened and I just know it’s Marlin and Erasmus. Put out an APB on her car, Mazda, 4X4 Navajo, license SHER 123. Can you get a call out to everyone to look for her?”

“You got it.”

Savich was at her house within ten minutes. It was dark. Her car wasn’t in the driveway. Jesus, he prayed he’d been wrong. Maybe she was at his place, maybe she wanted to unpack her stuff before she came to the gym. No, she wouldn’t do that. He went to the front door and tried the doorknob. It opened.