Visions of Emily’s lifeless body, of Colton’s, stole his strength. No…

“Who’s that?” Malcolm demanded.

“Can’t you tell? It’s a child.”

“Whose child?”

Sebastian waited until Kate was back in her room. “Jane’s,” he breathed, his voice barely audible. “If you kill Jane, you’ll make this child an orphan.”

“If you care about Jane or her child, I suggest you do everything I say.”

“What?” he asked.

“I’m offering you a trade-your life for hers.”

“How?”

“Come to the farmhouse.”

Sebastian preferred to keep Malcolm in town, if possible, where there’d be a better chance of escaping or getting help. “I don’t know where that is.”

“Then get a pen. I’ll give you the address.”

What should he do?

“You still there, tough guy?” Malcolm asked.

“I’m here,” Sebastian said from between clenched teeth and pretended to write down the address he rattled off. “When can we meet?”

“Now.”

“You’re asking for trouble, Malcolm. The police haven’t even finished processing the house. They could be there for all you know.”

“Crime-scene techs don’t work this late, not when they’ve got most of it done. And the police are in no hurry because they can’t even find the suspect. We’ll be fine.”

As usual, it was too easy for Malcolm. Sebastian wanted to tell him he’d go to prison or hell-preferably the latter. But Kate had come out of her room again, this time on the pretense of getting a glass of water. “She’s your only leverage,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

He chuckled. “That’s one hell of a way to make your point, Sebastian. She’s your only leverage. That’s all you’ve got to say?”

That was all he could say in front of Kate. “I’ll make the trade. Just…see that you don’t-” he glanced over at Kate, who was watching him as she sipped from a glass “-you know.”

“I won’t hurt her. Unless you call the police. Do that and she’s dead.”

Sebastian knew that unless they got very lucky, Malcolm would kill her regardless. “I’m on my way.”

“Clock’s ticking,” he said. Then he was gone.

Jane was handcuffed to a rod in the back of a utility van that had no windows, other than those in the front. She could feel the tires thrumming against the pavement, could hear music playing on the radio. And once she’d managed to focus her blurry vision, she could see the back of the man who’d attacked her when she’d gotten into her car. It was Malcolm Turner. She would’ve known him even if she hadn’t carried his picture around with her every minute for a week. She hadn’t found him; he’d found her.

After subduing her long enough to bind and gag her, he’d disappeared. But he’d returned almost immediately, this time with a white van he left idling beside her Camry while he dragged her from one vehicle to the other.

Jane vaguely remembered him using her cell phone to call Sebastian. Then a torrent of memories descended-what he’d said on the phone and how explosively he’d reacted when she’d tried to tell Sebastian not to listen. It hurt to move her jaw. The way her cheekbone throbbed made her wonder if he’d broken bones in her face. Her right eye was so swollen she couldn’t completely open it.

Had she escaped Oliver only to die at the hands of the man who’d killed Marcie? If she was murdered today, what would happen to Kate? Would Wendy raise her?

God, no-please, no. She could imagine the many small ways Wendy might torture Kate for mistakes that had nothing to do with her. Wendy wouldn’t do it intentionally, of course. She was basically a decent person, and had once been someone Jane admired very much. But the hurt and resentment that had festered since Noah’s death would eventually manifest itself. Jane felt sure of it. Problem was, she didn’t want Kate to live with the Burkes, either. They were too old to be raising children.

Kate needed her mother. Which meant Jane’s only option was to get out of this alive. As frightened as she was, as unsure as she felt of her own ability to withstand this fresh onslaught of terror, she had to dig deep, think quick, act brave.

She looked at the tattoo on her hand. She saw no answers there, but she did see a reminder of who she was. She’d been through this before and survived it. She would survive again. For Kate’s sake. For Sebastian. Finally, she had a chance at happiness. She wasn’t going to let someone like Malcolm take that away.

“Hey, you coming around back there?” Malcolm hollered.

Jane hadn’t expected him to speak to her. He’d seemed too absorbed in his thoughts and the music.

With a tortured sigh, she laid her throbbing head on her arms.

When she didn’t answer, he turned around to see her. She could hear the difference in the volume of his voice. “How you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been beaten up by a loser with no conscience,” she muttered.

“That’s funny,” he said. “You’re a real comedian. But maybe you should show some respect and just be glad you weren’t killed by that ‘loser.’ It’s not too late for me to change my mind, you know.”

She knew that very well. But if he hadn’t killed her already, he was keeping her alive for a reason.

“What are you doing, Malcolm?” Her tone suggested he was nothing more than a recalcitrant child. She wasn’t about to give him the pleasure of revealing how much he frightened her.

“You know what I’m doing. I’m using you to get to Sebastian. I’m tired of his bullshit. We’re going to get this over with once and for all. And then I’ll be free.”

“Maybe you’ll kill Sebastian. Maybe you’ll kill me, too. But you won’t be free. Your actions will be with you every day of your life. My partners at The Last Stand won’t rest until they track you down and put you in jail. It will never be over.”

“Don’t try to scare me,” he said. “I outsmarted the entire police department back in Jersey. I can certainly handle three broads running a two-bit charity. They wouldn’t find me. No one will.” He laughed triumphantly. “Sebastian wouldn’t have been able to follow me to Sacramento if I hadn’t been stupid enough to trust Mary. And I never would’ve gotten back at him if he hadn’t been stupid enough to trust Constance. It’s trust that gets you into trouble every damn time. If you don’t trust anyone, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“If you don’t trust anyone, you don’t really have a life,” she told him. “You might go through the motions, but it doesn’t mean anything.” She groaned as if trying to get more comfortable, but she was really testing the handcuffs. Was there any way to slip her hands out?

No, they were so tight they were cutting into her wrists. The pole was solid, too. Even if she used all her strength, she wouldn’t be able to bend or break it. She was trussed up like a turkey, completely powerless as they hurtled closer and closer to the fate Malcolm had planned for her. “Believe me, I know about trust,” she added.

“You sound jaded.”

“I’ve got good reason to be.”

“Yeah, well, don’t we all.”

Where was her cell phone? Malcolm had taken it. He’d grabbed it from her right before plunging his fist into her face. Or maybe he’d hit her with something other than his fist? She hadn’t actually seen a weapon, but it’d felt more like a baseball bat.

“What would make you forget about Sebastian?” she asked.

He laughed out loud. “Now you’re trying to bargain with me?”

“You’ve already killed his son. Isn’t that enough?”

“Colton was just like his father. He deserved it.”

“Colton was a child.”

“Shut up! I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”

She pushed against the back doors with her feet. Maybe he hadn’t locked them properly. “You’d be smarter to toss me out on the side of the road and take off while you can.”

“I’m not leaving until you’re both dead.”

Those words brought back the fear. His intentions were unmistakable. And no matter how hard she pressed on the doors, they wouldn’t budge. There was no way to free herself, no way out. “You won’t get away with it,” she said. But with every passing mile, it looked more and more as if he would.