an eye for detail and organization, Sophie,” he’d said on more than one occasion. “I don’t know what this place would do without you.”
If only he knew how hard she’d worked to develop that eye for detail. Sophie smiled, her heart grateful for the man who’d taken a chance on a young green college graduate three years ago.
A thud from the back of the auditorium drew her attention to the left-hand corner and she frowned. “Hello? Is someone there?”
Stillness settled over the large room. When nothing more happened and no one announced their presence, she returned her attention to the ceremony preparations.
Something was wrong. Off. But what?
A little prickle at the base of her neck sent shivers down her spine and she turned to assess the area once more. The auditorium chairs sat empty. She’d unlocked all of the doors in case she had some early arrivals, but the place was quiet for now. Quiet as a tomb. Now, why would she think that? There’d been no more strange noises and nothing that should spark her unease. But she couldn’t help feeling like someone was watching.
But why?
And who?
“No one,” she muttered. “Quit jumping at shadows.” But something still nagged at her.
Sophie scanned the stage trying to put her finger on it. Six chairs aligned just right on the artificial turf. The podium with the chief’s notes for his presentation within easy reach, the mic was at exactly the right height, the graduation certificates were laid out in alphabetical order on the table...
The table.
She huffed. She’d placed everything on it without putting the black cloth on. Where was her mind this morning?
Definitely on her brother and the attention-stealing phone call she’d received last night. He’d called to tell her he was quitting college to join the Marines.
Seriously? He was nineteen years old. “What does a nineteen-year-old know?” she muttered. Nothing. Which was probably why he wanted to join the Marines.
But who was she to say it was a bad idea? He was right. They were different people with different lives, but she’d been ten years old when their mother had left and she’d taken on the role of mother figure for Trey. For the past fourteen years, he’d looked at her that way. And now he wanted her to just step aside while he made an important decision without discussing it? A small part of her reminded herself that he was technically an adult.
“But I’m the one who attended the parent/teacher conferences when Dad couldn’t get off work,” she muttered. “I’m the one who fixed his snacks and washed his clothes and held him when he got his heart broken by the girl who dumped him his sophomore year of high school.”
Stop it. Let it go for now and do your job.
Sophie removed the black tablecloth from the supply closet in the hallway, then hurried back toward the auditorium, her mind tuned in to the graduation details now.
She pushed through the auditorium door to the right of the stage and stumbled to a halt. A man in a baseball cap and sunglasses stood next to the podium with Chief Jameson’s red remarks folder open.
“Excuse me, what are you doing?” Sophie asked. He’d frozen for a slight second when she entered but closed the folder as she strode toward him. Her low heels clicked on the wooden steps and rang through the empty room. She approached him, intent on rescuing Jordan’s notes if need be. “The ceremony doesn’t start for another forty-five minutes. Did you need help with something?”
“Ah. No.” He turned toward her. “Thanks, but—” He kept his head lowered and she couldn’t make out a thing about his features.
A little niggle of fear curled in her belly and she remembered the loud noise, the feeling of someone watching her. She stopped so suddenly, she actually slid a couple more inches on the wood floor. Had he been in the auditorium the whole time? Watching her? Waiting for her to leave so he could look through Jordan’s folder?
No, of course not. She was being silly.
“But?” She encouraged him to finish his statement even while she could feel his laser-like stare shooting at her from behind the dark glasses. “Were you looking for something in the folder? It’s just notes for a speech.”
Once again unease shook her. Maybe she wasn’t being so silly after all. Something wasn’t right with this.
Get away from him.
Goose bumps pebbled her arms, and she turned to run. His left hand shot out and closed around her right bicep as his right hand came up, fingers wrapped around the grip of a gun. Sophie screamed when he placed the barrel of the weapon against her head. “Shut up,” he hissed. “Cooperate, and I might let you live.”
A gun. He had a gun pointed at her temple. “What are you doing? Why are you doing this? I don’t have any money on me.” Her shaky voice tumbled from trembling lips. She clamped them down, fighting for control.
His grip tightened. “Go.”
Go? “Where?”
“Out the side door and to the parking lot. Now.”
“Why don’t you go, and I’ll forget this ever happened?”
“Too late for that. You’re coming with me. Now, move!”
“You’re kidnapping me?” She squeezed the words out, trying to breathe through her terror.
“I said shut up! I’m not going to prison because of you!”
Still keeping his fingers tight around her upper arm, he gave her a hard shove and Sophie stumbled down the steps of the podium, his grip the only thing that kept her from landing on her face.
Her captor aimed her toward the door, and she had no choice but to follow. Heart thundering in her chest, her gaze jerked around the empty room. No help there. Maybe someone would be in the parking lot?
He pushed the silver bar and the steel door swung out. The gun moved from her head to dig into the center of her back, propelling her out onto the asphalt. His other hand snagged the loose bun at the nape of her neck, yanking her head sideways.
She cried out even while she squinted against the glare of the bright morning sun. Normally, her penchant for being early averted a lot of things that could go wrong and usurp her daily schedule. Today, it had placed her in the hands of a dangerous man—and an empty parking lot in Jackson Heights. Where was everyone?
Think, Sophie, think!
A K-9 SUV turned in and she caught a glimpse of the driver. Officer Luke Hathaway sat behind the wheel of the SUV. “Luke!”
“Shut up!” Her captor jerked her toward a brown sedan with a glance over his shoulder. His grip didn’t loosen until he got to the driver’s side of the vehicle. “Open the door!”
No way. With a burst of strength, she jabbed back with her left elbow. A yell burst from him along with a string of curses. She slipped from his grip for a brief second until
