It took me a while to get smart, but I finally put it together. I was in the trunk of a car. Been there, done that. It was pitch black. I had no idea of time. The car was moving, turning corners. My hands were handcuffed behind my back. I was pretty sure I'd been stun-gunned again. I hoped I wasn't naked. I felt around with my hands and was relieved to feel clothes. Unfortunately they weren't the clothes I remembered wearing. Scrog had undressed me while I was unconscious. How icky is that?
The car stopped. The engine cut out. A car door slammed shut. And then the trunk opened, and I saw Scrog again. Still in drag in the brown wig.
'Feeling better?' he asked.
'No, I'm not feeling better. I'm feeling pissed off that you keep stun-gunning me.'
'That's the reward for bad behavior. You have to learn to obey me.'
He hauled me out of the trunk, and I saw that we were in a wooded area. I could hear cars in the distance, but I couldn't see lights. The road was dirt. A motor home was parked in front of us. It wasn't one of the motor homes reported stolen. It was old and partially rusted out around the rear wheels.
'Home sweet home,' Scrog said.
'Where are we?'
'We're home. That's all you need to know. Get in.'
I was wearing a white T-shirt and lightweight grey sweatpants. 'Where are my clothes?'
'In the tote bag. Except for the little gadget you had cleverly hidden in your… pants area. I thought it best to leave that behind.'
I felt myself go cold and my heart stop dead in my chest for a moment. I was so cold I was chattering inside, and I thought, This is fear. Debilitating. Gut-clenching. Cold fear. Ranger had no way to find me.
I climbed rickety steps and wrenched the door open. It was dark inside. No electricity. I toed my way into the sweltering-hot room and stopped when I ran into something that felt like a table.
'Don't move,' Scrog said. 'I have a battery-powered light.'
Stay calm, I told myself. At least this rattrap doesn't smell like death. Just keep thinking. Don't panic.
He switched on what looked like a small electric lantern. The light was dim, and I thought this was a good thing. Best not to look too closely at the motor home. It seemed to be composed of two rooms. I was in the living room, dining room, kitchen area. Upholstery was filthy and torn. The floor had been patched with odd pieces of linoleum. Water stains ran down walls. The Formica tabletop and kitchen countertop were riddled with cigarette burns and knife scars. A lumpy soiled pillow and threadbare blanket had been left on the bench seat behind the table.
'I figure once we get the business up and running we can get something nice, but for now this will have to do,' Scrog said. There was a closed door at the end of the kitchen area. It had to lead to a small bedroom and maybe bathroom of sorts. I was hoping Julie was okay behind the door.
'Where's Julie?' I asked him. 'I'm anxious to see her.'
'She's in the bedroom. You can go on in. The door isn't locked.'
I called ahead. 'Julie? It's Stephanie. I'm coming in.'
No one answered, so I pushed the door open and peered inside. Too dark to see anything.
'Do you have another lantern?' I asked Scrog.
'No,' he said. 'You can have this one. I have eyes like a cat. I don't need light.'
He moved past me into the room and set the lantern on a small bedside built-in. Julie was huddled on the bed. Her brown hair was snarled and her eyes were huge. Her face was filthy and there were days-old tear tracks on her cheeks. I'd read a description of her when she was kidnapped, and it looked to me like she was wearing the same clothes. Maybe that was a good thing. At least he hadn't undressed her. Her feet were bare, and she was chained to the bed with an ankle shackle.
She looked at me, and then she looked at Scrog. She didn't say anything.
'It's late,' Scrog said. 'You girls must be tired. You need to go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day. Special things doing tomorrow.' He reached under the bed and pulled out another length of chain with a shackle attached. 'I'll just clamp this onto your ankle,' he said to me, 'and then I can unlock the handcuffs.'
He reached for my ankle, and I kicked him in the head as hard as I could. I booted him back about three feet. He landed on his ass, and I went after him, catching him in the side with another kick. He managed to scoot away from me; he reached behind him, his hand moved toward me, and I got another jolt from the stun gun.
Stephanie Plum 12 - Twelve Sharp
Twenty-one
When I came around I was on my back on the grungy floor in the bedroom. My shoes and socks had been removed, and the ankle shackle was locked in place. I waited for the noise to go away in my head and for everything to stop tingling before I tried to stand.