Magic Moment Read Free Page B

Donovan. Leisure Limo, the car service the Donovans used, both professionally and personally, arrived. Dick’s insistence that he wasn’t ready to leave, more paperwork to be done, and his offer of the car and driver to take her home. The avenue’s dark, deserted stretch. The misplaced cell phone. A rank smell, then darkness.
    “Damn, man,” the man said. “You gave her too much.”
    She recognized the male voice, a soft, southern drawl. It belonged to Ron Caldwell, the Leisure Limo driver. The Donovans always requested the same driver.
    Laura lay motionless, unmoving, barely breathing. Her heart thumped so loudly she was certain the entire universe heard the rapid beat. She willed it to be silent, but her nervous nucleus refused. Her eyes were closed, her body numb, the foul odor still clogged her nose.
    “I hardly gave her any,” another man said. “Should’a been out two, three hours at the most. I can’t believe she ain’t comin’ around.”
    This voice, its tone hard, belonged to the second man. The one who had jumped into the car when Ron had pulled over to the side, insisting he needed to search the trunk for his cell phone.
    “We’re lucky these boats are only used in the summer.” Ron’s voice was jittery. “The order said quick. Let’s forget doin’ her, and get rid of her.”
    The other man grunted. “I ain’t leavin’ until I get my shot between her legs.”
    “What if she doesn’t wake up ’til morning?” Ron asked. “We can’t toss her in the daytime. People work in the office. They’ll see.”
    “She can’t be out much longer,” the second man said.
    “Let’s do her now, and get it over with.”
    “I don’t like bangin’ a comatose broad. No fun. I like some fight.” The second man laughed, a sinister, echoing sound. “You know, all that twistin’ and wrigglin’ as they try and throw you off. Then they realize they ain’t gonna win, and give up, whimperin’ while you do ’em.”
    Laura maintained her sedate position, eyes closed, her body not moving a muscle, not even a twitch. She grew faint, fear mixed with the lingering effects of the drug they had used. She prayed to remain aware. They were bastards, sick, perverted bastards.
    Her stomach churned, her head pounded, but she managed her struggle with consciousness. She was on her side, feeling the softness beneath her. They had her on a bed. Her arms were in front, tied at the wrist with what felt like string or yarn. Her feet were bound together at the ankles. She wasn’t wearing her pumps. Since they had rendered her unconscious, she wasn’t gagged. Their oversight could be her advantage.
    Her right side, the side they had dropped her on, was sore as if she’d been poked with pins and needles. She wanted badly to roll over on her back, but that comfort wasn’t feasible. Her parched throat burned. How long could she pretend to be sedated?
    A hand grasped her shoulder and shook her roughly. She concentrated on keeping her eyes closed, her breathing even.
    “She’s still out,” Ron said.
    Dear God, she was so scared. Laura didn’t know what she expected to accomplish by imaginary lifelessness, except to buy time before the inevitable. They had kidnapped her, planned to rape her, and had no intention of letting her live to tell the tale. Thoughts of her mother, how much she loved her and missed her passed through her mind. In death, she would be with her mother.
    But she wasn’t ready. Laura wasn’t ready to die, and not like this, not after being brutalized.
    Where was the FBI now? When she needed them? When there was a real crime in progress?
    “I’m getting damn tired of waitin’,” the nameless brute snapped. “She can’t be out all this time. She’s fakin’.”
    Laura’s heart pounded so fiercely she heard the hammering in her ears. Cold, sharp metal pressed against her cheek. Her stomach tangled with fright, and it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to remain passive. This creature