Isabel followed her into the next room.
Nessie was blushing when she said, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous, but my friends and I have heard you singing with XO, and we were wondering if we could have your autograph. We may be older, but that doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate good music.”
Isabel was so touched by the sincerity in her voice, she couldn’t help but say yes. Nessie handed her a pen, and she began signing a dozen papers placed in front of her, personalizing each one with a name on Nessie’s list. When she was finished, Nessie thanked her profusely.
Isabel said good-bye, and as she was walking back into Gladstone’s office, she almost stumbled over a couple of boxes sitting next to Nessie’s desk.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Nessie exclaimed. “I was just about to take those to my car. It’s mostly junk to be donated. Knickknacks. Someone will want them,” she said, picking up one of the boxes.
“I’ll help,” Isabel offered. Bending down, she picked up the other and walked behind Nessie to the back door, which had been propped open with a brick.
“I don’t have a key to get back in if the door’s closed,” Nessie explained.
They loaded the boxes in the trunk of her car, and Nessie thanked Isabel again as she slid behind the wheel.
Daylight was slowly fading as Isabel watched her drive away. She took a deep inhale of the clean fresh air. She reached for the doorknob and used her foot to push the brick out of her way, but just as she was going inside, someone grabbed her arm and wrenched it back, knocking her off-balance. She was so surprised, she yelped.
Isabel twisted around and came face-to-face with Freya Harcus. The look in the woman’s eyes was chilling. Isabel was so shocked to see her she froze, but only for a second. Then she tried to get free of Freya’s grip. My God, she was strong. Her hand felt like a vise clamped around Isabel’s arm, squeezing the bone.
What was happening didn’t make any sense to Isabel. Why had Freya latched on to her arm? What did she want? And where had her superhuman strength come from?
“Let go of me,” Isabel demanded. She made a fist with her other hand, and was about to punch Freya to get free when she saw the gun Freya had pressed into her side.
“If you scream or shout a warning, your man, Buchanan, will come running and I’ll shoot him. He struck my boy, made him bleed. He shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice was filled with loathing. “He deserves to die.”
The heavy back door had already closed. Even if she could get away from Freya, she couldn’t run inside because the door had automatically locked. If she tried to run the other way, she would never make it to the street before Freya shot her in the back, and Isabel didn’t have any doubt that she would. Freya’s rage was terrifying.
“What do you want?” Isabel asked, trying to stay calm. She was in such a panic now, knowing Michael would grow impatient and would come looking for her. He wouldn’t suspect Freya had a weapon, which gave her the advantage. She’d kill him before he took a step outside.
“You’re coming with me,” Freya said as she jerked Isabel ahead of her. “You give me any trouble, and I’ll pound on that door so Buchanan will come running. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Do you want to watch him die?”
“No, no, I’ll do whatever you say.”
Freya shoved Isabel forward. “Then move.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Isabel’s instinct was to refuse, but she couldn’t do that. She was going to have to cooperate until they were far enough away from the building, and she knew Michael was safe. Then she would figure out how to get the gun away from Freya without getting shot.
Freya kept her gun trained on Isabel and held tight to her wrist as they rounded the corner to the side of the building where Freya had parked her car. She shoved Isabel ahead of her.
“You drive.”