he wasn't going to do that until she told him what the hell was going on. She was shaking violently.
"Take a deep breath and calm down. You aren't going to faint, are you?" he asked.
"No."
"Okay, tell me what happened. Talk to me, damn it. Who was on the phone?"
"It was a woman. I didn't recognize her voice. She said they have my aunt."
"They?" he demanded. "You're sure she said they?"
"Yes," she said. She was growing more frantic with each passing second. "Carrie's in trouble, and I have to get to her before it's too late."
"Did the woman tell you to get rid of your cell phone?"
Struggling to get away from him, she whispered, "Yes. Look, this isn't a prank. I could tell. She said that they would kill Carrie
and two other women who are with her if we don't get moving. Please," she pleaded in desperation. "You have to go with me.
She said you're in the game now. We have to hurry. She's given us two hours to get to a place she marked on the map, and I
don't know how we'll make it in time. It's so far away…"
"You know this is probably a trap, don't you? You've got to know-"
"Yes," she shouted, no longer caring who heard her. "And once we're on our way, I'm going to try to think of a way to stay
alive and help Carrie. Listen to me. I don't have a choice. If it were your mother or your daughter, would you stand here
analyzing the situation? I know you wouldn't. You'd do exactly what I'm going to do. Play along and seize whatever chance
you can. Now move it, Renard. Time's running out."
She was right. He would have paid the ransom or done anything humanly possible to keep someone he loved alive a little longer.
"Come on," he said. "We'll take my car."
Weak with relief because he wasn't arguing, she whispered, "Thank you."
He grabbed her hand and ran to the parking lot, with her stumbling along behind him. His SUV was illegally parked in front of a walkway. There was a security guard standing beside the hood shaking his head.
"Are you the owner of this-" He stopped when he saw the expression on John Paul's face, then quickly backed away, stepping into a bed of pansies.
John Paul ignored him. He pushed the security button on his key chain to unlock the doors and tossed Avery's bag into the back with his gear while she ran around to the front passenger seat.
She had the map out and was pointing to the red X by the time he slid behind the wheel. "We've got exactly two hours. No, one hour and fifty-seven minutes now, to get to this spot. Let's go."
John Paul studied the map for about ten seconds.
"It's going to be close," he said as he started the ignition.
"But we can make it?"
"Maybe," was all he would allow. "You navigate. Put your seat belt on."
He couldn't floor it until they were out of the parking area, but by the time they'd reached the gate at the end of the long, winding road, he was going fifty.
Avery was leaning forward, rocking, as though that motion would help them get closer to their destination. She realized what she was doing and forced herself to sit back while she concentrated for the moment on giving him directions.
He sped down the highway. "There," she shouted when she saw the sign. "Take the cutoff up ahead. It should be about a mile or so. You can stay on that two-lane for at least twenty miles, maybe thirty." Gripping her hands together, she watched the road until the turnoff came into view. "Slow down. There it is. You'll miss it."
"I see it," he said calmly.
He took the blacktop road on two wheels. Avery braced herself with her hand against the dashboard. Didn't these things turn over all the time? That was all they needed, for John Paul to wreck the car. Carrie would be doomed.
Calm down, she told herself. We'll make it. We have to.
She looked down, saw the masculine Swatch watch half on top of her little Timex, and quickly removed it. After she examined the front and the back, she carefully placed it in the cup holder between them.
The road straightened ahead, and he glanced over. "Now you start talking," he said. "Tell me exactly what she said."
She told him what she could remember, and then she said, "She was there watching us. I tried to find her on my way outside, but there were so many people milling around."
"She might not have been inside. Didn't you notice all the security cameras?"
She shook her head. "No."
"All she had to do was hook into their system. She didn't have to be there to watch you at the counter. Was there anything to distinguish her voice?"
"No, nothing. She just sounded…"
"What?"
"Creepy. She told me not to be a killjoy, called what she was doing a game. She didn't want me to spoil her fun."
Avery remembered the papers she'd shoved in her backpack and pulled them out.
"What's that?"
"I asked Cannon to give me all the information he had on the other two women who canceled at the last minute. She told me there were two women with Carrie now. They have to be the same ones. The first name is Anne Trapp. She lives in Cleveland and owns Trapp Shipping Company. Then there's Judge Sara Collins from Miami. It appears that all three reservations were made on credit cards. Each with a different name on it." She read the names to him.
"Do the names mean anything to you?"
"No," she answered. "I don't think Carrie's ever mentioned any of them, and I don't know how she would know them. Carrie and my uncle live in Bel Air."
"I figured that was where you were from."
"For a while I was," she said. "I live in Virginia now." She picked up the watch and checked the time again. "Can't we go any faster?"
"I'm going close to eighty now. The speed limit is fifty-five. I just hope the highway patrol isn't around."
Oh, God, she hadn't thought about that. They would be delayed indefinitely if they were stopped.
"Slow down then."
"Make up your mind, sweetheart. Fast or slow? It's your call."
"We'll make up the speed on the access road. Slow down for now."
He did. "You're sure the woman on the phone said, ' We have her'?" stressing the plural.
"You already asked me that, and, yes, I'm still sure she said they have her. Why is that important?"
He could barely contain his excitement. "Because just maybe Monk is waiting for you at that spot on the map, and that gives me
a unique opportunity to kill the bastard. If I can figure out a way to get ahead of him…"
He didn't go on, but she noticed he increased their speed again. "I think it's time for you to answer some questions," she said.
"Like what?"
"Why were you looking for Carrie? How do you know her?"
He had to confess. "I don't know her."
"But you said…"
"I lied," he said curtly. "I know the man who…"
"Who what?"
He was going to say the man who killed her because, if Monk was continuing with his pattern, those three women were already dead and buried. He had changed one thing, John Paul acknowledged. He was obviously now working with a partner.
"… who is after the women," he said. "The man calling himself Monk. I doubt that's the name on his birth certificate."
"Tell me what you know about him. Who is he?"
"A professional killer."
"A what?" she asked sharply.
He repeated himself, and then he glanced at her face to see how she was taking the news. Not well, he decided. Not well at all. She was rapidly turning green.
"Are you gonna get sick?" He asked the question without a bit of sympathy in his voice.
"No."
He didn't believe her. "Roll down the window and lean out if you think-"
"I'm okay," she said, even as she hit the button to automatically lower the window. She took a couple of deep breaths. The air