Binding Choice: A Romantic Thriller Read online

  I inspected the small bathroom.

  Watson pointed out that the fixtures had been upgraded. His voice shook a little.

  Was he an anxious person in general? Or did his job somehow hinge on bringing home this deal, even though the rent wasn’t all that much for this place? He was a pretty crappy salesman. Maybe he was on probation or something.

  There were some basic toiletries in the medicine cabinet and a bottle of shampoo on the side of the bathtub.

  I walked back through to the main room, feeling vaguely guilty since I had no intentions of renting the place. “It is very nice, but I need to think about it.” I gave Bill Watson a big smile. “I never make a decision like this without sleeping on it.”

  Watson returned my smile with one of his own. Was it my imagination or did he look relieved?

  He handed me a card. “You should call Drew if you want the place.”

  Huh? Then I got it. He didn’t want to be seen as stealing business from the boss’s son.

  He escorted me outside. The light was dim in the clearing, the trees blocking the sun. I tried to scan the surrounding woods, but they were a dark wall of dense foliage.

  We climbed into the agent’s SUV and headed back toward Columbia. Once I had some bars on my phone, I called Jules. “Hi, sweetheart. I just looked at the most adorable cabin.”

  “Nothing?” The disappointment in his voice was heart wrenching.

  My throat closed but I managed to get the prearranged words out. “No, nothing extraordinary, but I think it might suit our needs. I’m going to sleep on it.”

  Jules let loose with a string of expletives at the news that this cabin could be where Drew had held Erica, but it was indeed now empty.

  I interrupted, afraid I would be tempted to join him out loud. Or burst into tears. “I’ll meet you back at my motel, okay?”

  “Yeah.” His voice sounded defeated. “See you at Erica’s.”

  <<>>

  Erica

  “So where are we going to get married at this hour?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  Drew turned and smiled at me, the perfect image of a happy bridegroom. “The local justice of the peace is an acquaintance. I called him while you were drying your hair, and he agreed to stay late to marry us.”

  Bubbles of excitement conflicted with my twisted stomach. A justice of the peace. As soon as we were there, I’d tell him what Drew had done.

  But Drew knew this JP. Did that mean the guy might not believe me? Still, he was an officer of the court. He’d have to take me seriously enough to investigate.

  We entered a small town, its main street lined with shops. After going through a fast food drive-thru as promised—Drew got me a burger but nothing for himself—he parallel-parked in front of a three-story brick office building.

  I gobbled down the last bite of my hamburger, being careful not to drip grease or condiments on my white dress.

  Drew smiled at me, a nasty gleam in his eye. “You done?”

  I nodded, wiping my fingers with a napkin.

  “Stay put. I’ll be right around.”

  As if I had any other choice.

  He rounded the hood of the car, opened my door, then leaned in and unlocked the ankle cuff. Taking my elbow, he gripped it hard, his thumb digging into my flesh. He escorted me into the building, the epitome of a gentleman to anyone watching.

  We entered a suite of offices. The brass plate by the door read James Pickerling, Attorney at Law. I was disappointed to see that there was no one around. I thought law offices were hives of activity pretty much twenty-four, seven. But maybe not so much in a small town.

  We followed a long hallway down to a dark wooden door, highly polished. Drew knocked lightly, then turned the knob without waiting for a response.

  “Ah, Mr. Thompson.” A youngish, dark-haired man rose from a chair behind a large, mahogany conference table. He shook Drew’s hand across the table.

  “Your Honor, thank you for waiting for us.”

  The man waved a hand in the air. “No need for ‘your honor’ with me. I’m just a lawyer whom the townsfolk deemed capable of being a justice of the peace. But I am able to perform wedding ceremonies. Is this the lovely bride?”

  “Yes, this is Erica Burke, my fiancée.”

  I was surprised—no, make that shocked—that he used my real name. But then again, if this was to be a legal marriage, he had to.

  Drew let go of my elbow and reached to hold my hand instead.

  I lurched away from him. “Help me, please!” I yelled at the JP. “He’s kidnapped me and is forcing me to marry him.”

  Drew’s expression instantly morphed into one of great concern. “Oh, no. I’d hoped we were past this.”

  I raced down the length of the table. If I could get to the other side, get to the JP...

  The man stood frozen. “Uh, p-past what?” he stuttered out.

  Drew caught up with me, pinned my arms to my sides. “I’m afraid my fiancée is mentally unstable. I thought the new meds...” His voice trailed off on a fake sob.

  The fast-food burger in my stomach threatened to resurface. I swallowed hard. “He’s lying.” I kicked at Drew’s legs, fought against the vice grip of his arms around me. “He kidnapped me days ago. He’s done horrible things to me.” My words came out on gasps of air. “Please, help me,” I begged the JP.

  Drew dragged me to the door. “We’ll have to come back another time, sir.”

  The JP had a confused look on his face.

  I fought harder against Drew’s efforts to get me out of the office. “Dear God, you’ve got to believe me,” I screamed at the JP.

  He wrung his hands but made no move to help me.

  Drew dragged me, kicking and screaming, from the building.

  Once outside, I called to passers-by. “Please help me! He kidnapped me and he’s been keeping me captive.”

  Suddenly the JP appeared beside us. “Ignore her, folks. She’s a bit unstable, poor soul. Her fiancé will take care of her.”

  I was sobbing as he helped Drew push me into the backseat of the car.

  Drew held a hand over my mouth, while the JP reassured bystanders and urged them to disperse. Then Drew reached down and snapped a cuff around my ankle and yanked my right wrist down to cuff that as well to a round bolt on the floor.

  He jumped into the front passenger seat and slid across to the driver’s side. Starting the car, he quicky drove away.

  Several blocks down Main Street, he pulled over to the curb. He looked up in the rearview mirror, made eye contact. “I’d ordered some flowers for my bride, not knowing you would go ballistic on me. Can’t disappoint the local merchants.”

  With that, he was out of the car, beeping the locks closed.

  With my right wrist pulled awkwardly down to below the edge of the seat, I reached over with my left to open my door. Damn! He must have activated the child-protection feature. The door wouldn’t unlock, and with the ignition off, the window wouldn’t lower.

  I twisted around and threaded my left arm through the gap between the back of the passenger seat and the door. I stretched my fingers toward the door handle. My reach fell two inches short.

  I twisted a bit more and stretched my arm as far as I could. My fingertips were still half an inch from the handle.

  The driver’s side door opened. Drew stuck his head in and batted my hand playfully. “Now, now, no trying to escape, my blushing bride.”

  He threw a bouquet of red roses onto the backseat beside me and climbed into the driver’s seat. His laughter filled the car.

  My stomach heaved and I struggled not to throw up, knowing that would get me punished.

  <<>>

  Amanda

  Back at Erica’s townhouse, Jules pumped me for every detail of the layout of the cabin. Unfortunately there wasn’t much to tell.

  “Do you think he was keeping her there and then moved her?” he asked.

  I wanted to believe that as much as he did, but it j
ust didn’t jive with what I’d seen.

  “I didn’t see any signs of anyone being held captive there.”

  He hung his head. It took a second for me to realize he was crying.

  “I... I’ve failed her,” he sobbed.

  I wasn’t sure how to comfort him. “Jules, you’ve done everything possible.”

  He turned away from me, obviously not consoled.

  My brain was working overtime, trying to figure out how we could find Erica. I flashed to my earlier inner conversation, when I’d been trying to reassure myself about being alone with Watson in his SUV. Then his anxious voice echoed in my mind. Why had he been so nervous?

  A bizarre thought popped into my head. “Jules, I have an idea.”

  He turned a tear-streaked face toward me. “What?”

  <<>>

  Erica

  As soon as we returned to the cabin, Drew trussed me up in his shibari ropes and knots again, except that he left my feet unbound. He led me to the table in the main room, then cuffed my ankles to the chair legs.

  He’d stopped at an Italian place on the outskirts of town. Calling the number on their sign, he’d ordered food, then waited for the curbside carry-out service.

  I was preparing what I would say to convince whoever brought our food that they should call the police, when a teenaged boy exited the restaurant and headed our way, carrying a large plastic bag.

  But Drew had pulled something from his glove box. He waved it in the air. “It might look weird, but it’s quite lethal. Keep the cuffs hidden and don’t say anything, or his parents will be crying tonight.”

  My mouth hung open as my heart raced. The thing in his hand was boxy, looked like a small staple gun.

  He pointed below the barrel. “It’s squared off like this,” he said conversationally, “because it has a laser sight built in. Pretty cool huh?”

  He lowered his arm and, best I could tell from the backseat, put the pistol in his pocket.

  I didn’t know if he’d make good on the threat or not. Would he kill someone in a parking lot, with potential witnesses around, and risk getting caught?

  A small corner of my brain noted that I wasn’t considering if he would have any qualms about killing an innocent person, a kid no less. I knew he wouldn’t.

  The boy grew closer, a pleasant smile on his lips.

  I hadn’t dared take the chance, so I’d swallowed hard and kept my mouth shut.

  Now Drew balanced a cup of Italian wedding soup in my trussed up hands. “Fitting, don’t you think, my dear?”

  He dug into a serving of spaghetti with side salad and garlic bread.

  I carefully sipped the soup and tried to ignore the rumbling of my stomach, which found one granola bar, a hamburger and some soup wholly inadequate after a whole night and day of starvation.

  But I didn’t want to waste a drop by gulping. I sucked in the veggies and pasta and closed my eyes as I chewed on a small savory meatball.

  A loud knocking on the door.

  My eyes flew open. I tensed, then lowered the soup container to the table, ready to take advantage of whatever might come.

  Drew sauntered over to the front window, pushed aside the heavy drapes and looked out. Light from the outside floods glanced through the glass on an angle.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” Drew muttered. He walked over to the front door and opened it.

  The justice of the peace walked in and my heart went into overdrive.

  <<>>

  Jules

  I was resistant at first, when Amanda floated her theory. Everything in me rebelled. No way was there that kind of conspiracy going on.

  “Not a total conspiracy,” Amanda said. “Just among a few of them. We’ve got to figure out which ones.”

  I paced the floor, went to the bathroom, paced some more, and finally agreed that we should check it out. If she was wrong, no harm done. And we had no other leads at this point.

  <<>>

  Erica

  “Your Honor, what are you doing here?” Drew said.

  Hope surged through me. I tried to stand, even though I was cuffed to the chair. Half crouched over, I let out a muffled cry. I was about to be rescued.

  “I told you, no Your Honor.” The JP looked my way. “I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  I opened my mouth, ready to beg for help, but something stilled my tongue. How could this man act like it was normal for me to be sitting at the table, stark naked and trussed up in an intricate pattern of ropes and knots?

  “We’re fine,” Drew said. “Won’t you join us for some supper?” He gestured toward the table.

  The man grinned in my direction.

  My insides clenched, My heart was pounding.

  “Actually,” the JP said amiably, “I’ve already eaten, but I wouldn’t mind some dessert.”

  He started in my direction, unbuckling his belt.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jules

  “So how many fraternity brothers are we talking about?” Amanda asked. We were sitting at Erica’s kitchen table. She held a pen poised over the pad she’d extracted from her purse.

  “There were a little over thirty of us in the house the year we graduated, but only about a dozen of those guys stayed in the area afterward. But that doesn’t mean much in this day and age.”

  Again, the thought that Drew could have taken Ricki anywhere in the country made my stomach twist.

  “Who were Drew’s friends?”

  I snorted. “Drew didn’t have friends. He had minions.”

  She gave me a small smile. “Names?”

  “Larry Daniels, Charlie Crane.” I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to dredge up names. “Bill Watson, of course, and Phil Monroe, the guy I told you to say recommended Thompson Realty.”

  She nodded without looking up, scribbling away.

  I could visualize three other faces, but could only remember first names, and in one case, the guy was called Skunk. I doubted that was the name his mother had given him.

  “Watson was the runt of the litter. They all picked on him. I suspect whipping boy is still his role in Drew’s life. No doubt, that’s why he got Bill the job at his father’s agency.”

  “That might explain why Watson seemed nervous,” Amanda said. “Could’ve been afraid he’d screw up somehow and Drew would get on him.”

  “Yeah. I can’t really imagine him trusting Watson to be part of this.”

  “None of these guys were closer to Drew than the rest of them?” Amanda asked.

  “Monroe was his first lieutenant. Drew gave the orders, and Monroe made sure everybody fell in line with what he wanted.”

  “Sounds like a real pack mentality.”

  I shrugged. “Sadly, that’s what human beings revert to, when the outer layer of civilization is peeled away.”

  “Lord of the Flies,” she said.

  I began to protest that it wasn’t that bad. But then again, maybe it was. Some of the practical jokes they’d played on the new pledges had been pretty cruel. And when there was no pledge handy to keep them entertained, they’d turned on poor Watson.

  Shame heated my cheeks. I should’ve intervened more, instead of hanging on the sidelines, looking the other way. But at that age, I’d just wanted to be accepted.

  “Is there some directory somewhere,” Amanda said, “that you could use to jog your memory? We really should check out anyone who was the least bit friendly with Drew.”

  I’d brought my own laptop over from my place earlier in the day. I booted it up.

  Amanda dragged Erica’s computer over in front of her. “I’m going to start researching Watson and Monroe.”

  “Monroe’s a lawyer,” I said. “Out in some podunk town in western Maryland.”

  Then I got busy myself, calling up the national website for my fraternity.

  <<>>

  Drew

  We sat at the table, enjoying our after-dessert cigars.

  I glanced over at
Erica. Her head was hanging down. Red welts were forming where the shibari ropes rubbed against her tender skin with each movement.

  I smiled. I was pretty sure she truly was broken now.

  Ah, it was sweet while it lasted.

  Monroe flipped ash from his cigar onto a dirty plate. “That was really risky, bringing her to my office like that.”

  I shrugged. “You seemed to enjoy the results.”

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t worth it. We’re not doing that again.”

  I glanced over through a cloud of cigar smoke. The man actually had the audacity to tell me what to do.

  “Jules is looking for her,” Monroe said.

  Erica’s body tensed.

  “I know,” I said. “I expected as much. He won’t find her.”

  “And she’s got a friend.” Monroe’s tone was nonchalant. “An Amanda White.”

  Erica’s head jerked up, her eyes wide.

  “She’s in the area, also looking for her.” He pointed the lit end of his cigar toward Erica.

  My chest tightened. I wanted to punch the smirk right off of Monroe’s face. “Remember,” I said, “if I get caught, you’re in deep trouble too.”

  He gave me a mock innocent look but had the good sense to shut up. He went back to puffing on the cigar.

  “How do you know about this friend?” I asked.

  He rested an ankle on his other knee, straightened the cuff of his dress slacks, rubbed some dust off of his Italian leather loafers.

  I clenched a fist under the table. “How did you find out about her?” I said, low and even.

  “Got a call after you all left my office, from Bill Watson, thanking me for the referral.”

  “What referral?”

  “This woman, Amanda... She apparently came into your father’s agency earlier today and asked for you. Said I’d recommended you. Since you were out, Watson took her to see the property she was interested in.”

  “So why does that make her a friend of Erica’s?”

  “Because I never gave any woman any such recommendation, and because of the property she wanted to see.” He knocked some more dust off his shoes.

  Erica had dropped her head again, but I could tell she was listening.

  I gritted my teeth. “Which property was that?”