Free The Evil That Men Do by Steve Rollins Page B

tiptoes. Perhaps, she thought, she could push herself over to one side or the other, which might break the chair, or more likely her own wrists. Then she realized that with no idea as to where she was, there was also no way to tell if the floor of the space in which she was being held was not covered in broken glass or if there was a sharp table corner on which she would brain herself.
    Blood pounded in her ears and behind her eyes, reddening her vision. The minute exertion of shifting her body weight had sent her cardiovascular system into overdrive, and the throbbing in her head was a clear indication that she had been drugged. The panic took over from confusion, and Ricki fought her body as she began to experience the onset of hyperventilation. She forced herself to slow her breathing despite the poorly oxygenated air that was available: just like her yoga teacher had taught her. It was futile. The sack over her head was heavy, the stinking gag she was wearing choked her and after only half a minute, Ricki was forced to gasp, lungs screaming. Her head swam, and blackness took her once again.
    When Ricki woke up, the sack was gone from her face, but she still could not see. Her eyes were now covered with a too-tight binding of fabric that pinched at her cheeks and eyelids. Someone had clearly been there, wherever that was. A faint sound, that of a shifting foot, told her that her captor was still in the room, and she let out an involuntary whimper through the drool-sodden fabric that had already rubbed away the skin at the corners of her mouth.
    “Hey now, don’t be afraid,” a gruff male voice said. “I’m guessing you are a little confused as to where you are, why you are tied up. I’m sorry. It’s really not how I wanted this to play out, but you—or more accurately, your sisters—have some work to do on my behalf. Once they have done a little job for me, I will let you go. I won’t harm you, and I won’t rape you. Unless… ”
    He trailed off, leaving Ricki under no illusions as to the consequences for the failure of her sisters to comply with this madman. He didn’t sound insane, not at all, but who kidnapped people, except gangs and serial killers? She had to get out of there, somehow. Roberta and Riley surely wouldn’t be foolish enough to go along with this plan, surely by now the entire Savannah police force would be out looking for her.
    Ricki tried to talk, but the gag made it impossible. She flinched at the surprisingly soft touch of the hands that untied the knot at the back of her head. In a moment, her mouth was free, and she was able to painfully move her jaw.
    “Water,” she managed to croak.
    Sure enough, she heard her captor’s movements, footfalls on what sounded like a wooden floor. In a moment, a hand tilted her head back and a plastic bottle was pressed against her cracked lips. Water flowed, but too quickly for her parched throat to process easily. Ricki choked, and the flow of water stopped while she regained her breath. When the water came again, it was slower, more measured. Did she detect a tremble in the man’s hand holding the bottle? Who was this guy?
    “What do you want with us?” she gasped when she was finally able to speak. “We have no money, and the police are going to be looking for me. Whatever it is you want; you can’t get it like this.”
    The man laughed softly, falsely.
    “If your sisters have gone to the police—and I have methods through which I can find out if they have—I’m afraid I might have to break my promise not to kill you. I don’t want to kill you, but I will if I have to, and I guarantee you that no one will ever know that it was me who did it. I do hope your sisters took the words of my letter to them seriously, and are even now following my instructions.”
    Ricki felt no fear at the threat of her own death. She knew that Roberta at least would have the presence of mind to covertly inform the police; but what did it mean that this man