about lunch... But nothing. Two hours and nothing.
Analyzing that man was half of the reason her paperwork had dragged on so long. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore the pull of his presence just a few feet away, on the other side of a door that might as well be made of lead.
A familiar low hum pulsed into the room. It took a moment for Andrea to place the sound, and when it processed, she whirled as a sheet slipped into the wireless printer. The wheels on her chair squeaked as she rolled backward. Josh couldn’t have logged into Grace’s computer without a password, so who was printing on her machine?
Slowly, an image formed. Andrea and Dutch, standing by her car. This morning. The photo was taken this time through a car windshield from one of the parking lots to the west of the center.
Again, red words were scrawled across the photo. We’re still watching.
She drew in a sharp breath and willed her fingers not to shake as she pulled the paper from the machine.
Andrea shoved her chair back and stood, every cell focused on that photo. “Josh?”
No answer.
Spider steps of fear ran up her arms. Not knowing what was happening on the other side of the door made her body tense. She swallowed hard and shook off the irrational thought that someone had slipped in and murdered Josh while she worked only feet away. Things like that didn’t happen outside of horror movies. Or war zones. Even though her life felt like both right now, that couldn’t possibly happen. “Josh? They sent another picture.” That should get his attention.
Still nothing. No rustle of movement. No answering call. It was as still as if she were alone in the world.
Something was definitely wrong. Andrea edged toward the door and gathered her last ounce of courage, ignoring the pounding of her heart as it throbbed in her ears. As softly as possible, she eased the door open, keeping out of sight from the windows in the lobby, trying to catch a glimpse of Josh.
The midday sun, nearly straight overhead, bounced off the windshield of her car in the parking lot, reflecting on the glass in the lobby and casting shadows that wavered in the heat. Josh sat at Grace’s desk with his arms crossed, just out of reach of the brightest streaks, his forehead resting on his palms, seemingly absorbed in the file in front of him. From this angle, though, she could see that his eyes weren’t on the pages but focused on the front windows.
Josh glanced to the side when she appeared in the doorway. “Stay there,” he hissed.
Andrea blinked against the adrenaline that shot through her from her scalp to her toes. “What’s wrong?”
“Hopefully nothing.” Josh shifted, raised his head and stretched, rubbing the back of his neck. He ran his hand down his face to block his mouth. “Truck pulled up in the parking lot about three minutes ago.”
“Did you call the police?”
“Not yet. I don’t want to tip them off that I—” His entire body tensed, his fingers tightening on his face. “Go in your office. Lock the door. Now.”
“But—”
“Someone’s coming. Now!”
The whispered shout galvanized her. Without waiting to see what came next, Andrea slammed the door and pushed the lock, then looked around the room and lunged for the phone on her desk.
There were no windows to see what was happening. No portal through which to escape. Her adrenaline-numbed fingers fumbled the handset of her desk phone.
No way out. She had no way out.
And she’d left Josh at the mercy of a potential killer.
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