Page 110 of The Murder Club
Clinging to that belief with every fiber of her being, Bailey ground her teeth as the barrel was abruptly toppled onto the side. Pain jolted through her, but she was bruised, not broken, she tried to reassure herself, ignoring the trickle of blood that streamed from a cut on her brow. She could still put up a fight.
She clenched her battered muscles as the lid popped open, but even as she tried to kick whoever was reaching into the barrel, a pair of hands grasped the waistband of her jeans and dragged her out. Bailey screamed, flailing her arms. Her screams wouldn’t be heard from the nursing home, but if someone was in the parking lot, they might come to investigate.
Seemingly indifferent to her cries for help, Bailey was abruptly pinned face-first against the broken tile floor with a knee pressed to the center of her spine. The pressure was hard enough to hold her in place as her arms were yanked behind her back. There was a loud click and Bailey felt a pair of handcuffs being snapped around her wrists.
“Stop that,” a male voice commanded. “No one can hear you from here. I made sure the room is soundproofed.”
Bailey cut off her screams as she instantly recognized the voice. “Eric?” she rasped, caught between a strange sense of shock and not shocked. “What’s wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?”
The hands on her arms gentled as she was turned over. Bailey knew she should be terrified. Instead, she felt more anger than fear as Eric slowly straightened up.
“I needed to talk to you,” he said.
“So you attack me, handcuff me, and hold me prisoner in a room you claim is soundproofed?” Her voice was sharp. “That’s not talking, that’s kidnapping.”
There was the sound of muffled footsteps before a flickering glow suddenly battled against the darkness. Bailey blinked, watching the fluorescent light hum to life before she rolled onto her side to glance around. It looked like an old bathroom, but the stalls had been pulled out along with the sinks, leaving it a cavernous, barren space. The walls that at one time were painted an industrial green were peeling, making it appear as if it was a snake sloughing off a dead skin. It was a setting worthy of a horror film, she acknowledged with a shiver, but her interest at the moment was in the fact that there were no windows. And worse, Eric was standing in front of the only door.
She was going to have to find a way to get past him, she accepted. But how? It was doubtful she could convince him to release her. Not after he’d gone to so much trouble to kidnap her. Her only hope was managing to overpower him.
Easier said than done.
“You wouldn’t listen to me. Not unless I forced you to,” Eric claimed, thankfully appearing unaware of her dark thoughts. “That man has clouded your mind.”
Bailey sat up with a groan. Every muscle ached and there was a throbbing pain behind her right eye. Still, she managed to swivel on her butt until she was directly facing her captor. The position had the added benefit of hiding her hands from his view.
She wasn’t a magician. She hadn’t practiced escaping handcuffs. But on the other hand, Eric wasn’t a professional kidnapper. The cuffs were tight, but they weren’t so tight that there wasn’t a possibility she could wiggle her hands through them.
Only one way to find out.
“What man?” she demanded.
“Dom Lucier.” Eric scowled, his expression more like a petulant child’s than a crazy stalker’s. “Nothing has been the same since he came to Pike. We never spend any time together anymore.”
Bailey studied him in confusion. He was wearing jeans that were too large for his skinny frame and a black windbreaker. His hair was sticking out, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and his eyes glittered with a hectic glow. Unease pierced her heart.
He looked different, warning her that there was a lot she didn’t know about Eric Criswell.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “We didn’t spend time together before Dom came to Pike.”
Eric flinched, as if her words hurt him. “Of course we did. We had lunch together almost every day.”
His bold claim caught her off guard. It was true they both ate lunch in the break room at the nursing home when they were both working. But most of the time Eric was seated in a corner by himself, while Bailey sat at the table with a few of the other staff. She might have said hi or even discussed a case from the Murder Club. But they certainly hadn’t been besties.
Still, it didn’t seem wise to aggravate him by saying that now. Not when she was handcuffed and at his mercy.
“It wasn’t Dom’s fault that I wasn’t at the nursing home,” she gently reminded him. “I was told to leave by Lorene.”
“Maybe not, but he’s the reason you haven’t come back to work,” Eric insisted.
“No.” Bailey shook her head, pressing her shoulders back as far as they would go. She hoped to create slack in the chain that held the cuffs together. It seemed reasonable that it would make it easier to slip a hand free. “The only one to blame for me leaving and staying away from the nursing home is the Donaldsons. When they accused me of coercing Nellie into leaving me money I realized I wasn’t staying here because it was my life’s dream. I stayed because I was too afraid to take on a new challenge.” She shrugged. “It’s time to move on.”
Eric stuck out his lower lip. “And leave me behind.”
“My decision has nothing to do with you.”
“Of course it doesn’t. Because I’m a nobody, right?”
Bailey forced herself to count to ten. She wanted to scream at her captor that he might have friends if he didn’t act like a sulky manbaby. Oh, and if he didn’t kidnap women when they didn’t give him the attention he wanted.