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"Did you come out for the Fringe then?"

She nodded. Her heart was racing in her chest. She had almost made it. The nightmare of the past two days would be over soon.

"This was my second one," he said, making idle chit chat. "I love the festivals. Especially the comedy."

She watched as the meter quickly reached twenty pounds. "You can let me out here," she said.

"I will take you all the way." He was kind enough to drive her to the door. She handed him the money. "Thank you."

Imogen's flat was on the second floor. It was no more than a cubby but the room she rented was all she needed. She walked up the stairs and stopped. The door was broken, and police tape blocked the entrance. "Hello," she called out, stepping under the blue barrier stretched across the doorway. "Imogen?"

The hair rose on the back of her neck. The apartment was in tatters. Furniture was knocked over and drawers had been tipped out, cluttering the small place in an array of odds and ends. She went down the hall to her room, opening the door. Everything of hers was gone. The closet was empty, and her suitcases and purse were nowhere to be found. There was nothing there. She had nothing, no identification, no money, no phone. Nothing. She sat down on the edge of the bed and started to cry.

"Hello," a voice called out. A large man popped his head in, flashing a badge. "Jimmy Keller. I'm an inspector with the Edinburgh police. You can't be in here."

Charlie stood up and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry."

"What's your name?" he asked, running a hand over his balding head.

"Charlotte Hanover. I was renting a room from Imogen. Is she all right?"

"She's missing. We've actually been looking for you too. Her boyfriend filed a report."

She looked around. "This is my fault. I saw something I shouldn't have. I was kidnapped. I managed to escape—" She was starting to ramble.

"Did they take your friend too?" the police officer asked, cutting her off.

"She wasn't with me. I witnessed a man killing two other men and he took me." She started to cry in earnest.

"You're safe now, lassie. I am going to need you to come down to police headquarters and make a statement."

"Of course." She looked down at the foul weather pants and wellies she still wore. "All my stuff is gone."

"There was nothing in this room when we got here." He held out his hand. "We should get going."

She followed him out the door and to his car. She got in the passenger side as he took a seat behind the wheel and locked the doors. The car was filled with empty coffee cups and old food containers. "Sorry for the mess," the detective said. "I've been undercover."

He pulled out into the traffic and drove towards the outskirts of the city. Charlie was torn between relief for herself and worry for Imogen. "You said you witnessed a murder?"

"Yes, it was at a pub a few blocks from here. The Black Sail, I think it was called. I went in to use the restroom and when I came out, I saw a man shoot two people."

"And then he took you?"

She nodded. She was still mad at herself for reacting the way she did to Sinclair Stuart's kiss. "His name is Sinclair—"

His phone buzzed, rattling the cup holder it sat in. Charlie paused, looking at it. The message was in Russian. He followed her eyes, turning it over to hide the screen. Russian. The men in the bar had been shouting in Russian. She sat up straight, looking around. They had left Edinburgh and were headed toward the docks. They weren't going to police headquarters. The man parked in front of an old brick distillery building. Its several chimney stacks were crumbling. He pulled a gun from inside his jacket. "You're going to come with me, and if you scream or try to run, I'll shoot you." His Scottish accent was gone, replaced by a Russian one.

He got out and came around to her side, opening the door. "Get out." He grabbed her by the upper arm and led her into the building, shoving her into a dark room and locking the door behind himself. She fell to her knees.

"Is someone there?" a voice whispered.

"Who's there?" Charlie moved toward the voice. "Where are you?"

"I'm here."

Imogen. Charlie felt her way to the corner. The girl lay on the floor curled up in a ball on her side. "Are you okay?"

"Help me."