given Cognoscenti my motherâs number. Only her name and where she lived. For the required emergency number Iâd listed Sherry. Yet Cognoscenti hadnât bothered her. Theyâd called my mother. Theyâd taken the time to track her down. But why? To intimidate me?
Mom had said he . Jerry? One of my original interviewers?
I picked up the phone and punched in Momâs number. The second ring cut off.
âLisa!â
âHi.â
âWhatâs going on? Who is this company?â
Now what was I supposed to say? âSomeone I interviewed for a job with.â The lie slipped out so easily. My conscience twinged.
âWhy are they calling me ?â
âI donât know. Probably got your number mixed up with mine in their file.â
âNo, he meant to call me. He addressed me by name.â
He did? Maybe it was Jerry Sterne, and Ice Queen was in on it. Maybe they were better actors than I thought.
âThis isnât about a job interview, Lisa, and I know it. He sounded far too menacing. Are you in some kind of trouble?â
If she only knew. âNo.â
âWhat does âdonât do itâ mean?â
âI donât know.â
âI think you do.â
âMom.â My fingers tightened around the phone. âForget it.â
She sighed. âIâm terribly worried about you. So far away. Why donât you move back home? Thereâs nothing to keep you there.â
Except for distance from herâ
The black suitcase lay on the floor. The man unzipped it hurriedly. I saw his right hand, the dragon ring on his finger. He threw back the cover.
I swayed. Held on to the counter for support.
âLisa, are you listening to me?â
Where was my tongue? âLook, Mom, I need to go. Sorry they bothered you. Iâll tell them not to call you anymore.â
I hung up.
Through the manâs gaze I saw the dead woman, lying on his kitchen floor. Her eyes were open and fixed. Blood stained her silk blouse. The knife was not in sight.
He dragged the suitcase next to her. Bent down and thrust an arm behind her neck. Raised her torso. He forced his other arm under her knees and lifted. Her ragdoll body folded in his grasp. The man dropped her into the suitcase with a heavy thump.
I gasped and whirled around. That soundâit was right here.
The womanâs shoulders fell out of the suitcase on one end, her feet out the other. The man used both hands to turn her on her side. He forced her knees up toward her face. Pushed her body down until her head rested inside the bag.
He stood back and studied her. Then he closed the cover over the suitcase and zipped it.
The whir of the zipper vibrated right through me. I sagged against the counter and hung on for life. Gritting my teeth, I fought to get hold of myself. Heâd put her in the suitcase. How awful. How heartless.
Would he bury her next? Would I have to see that, too?
Come on, Lisa. Pull it together.
For a long time I shivered over the counter. The fear heated, then melted like running wax. I was left to cool. Then harden.
My unsteady gaze landed on Jerry Sterneâs business card. Maybe I couldnât stop the visions, but I didnât have to put up with threats from Cognoscenti. Before I lost my courage I jabbed in the digits. His voice mail picked up. I barely waited for the beep after his message.
âItâs Lisa Newberry. Donât you call my mother anymore with threats, you hear? And if you didnât do it, some other man there did. You can send this message up your chain of command: Leave my mother out of this. Clearly you thought you could intimidate me by using her. Guess whatâall youâve done is made me madder.â
I clacked the receiver hard into its base. A moment passed as I glared across the apartment, wondering what to do next.
My stomach groaned with hunger, and tiredness hit. But I couldnât eat or rest now. Anger still coursed