Turn up the Heat

that might be in there would spoil if the engine were off. Then it occurred to me that if Kevin was on the verge of making a horrible revelation, I should probably sit down. It was just as I was about to take a seat on the grimy back steps and tell Kevin to break the news that he wrapped his massive arms around me and engulfed me in what I at first mistook for a bear hug. Why was Kevin embracing me? The delusion lasted for no more than a second. The pressure of his muscular hands on my upper arms was ferocious. Lifting me almost off my feet, he began dragging me toward the open rear of Owen’s truck.
    Terror and confusion shot through me. “Kevin! What are you doing?” Of all the foolish questions! Why didn’t I scream? I probably couldn’t have. As it was, my voice cracked, and I was breathing rapidly. His arms gripped mine so tightly that I couldn’t break free, and my toes barely touched the ground as he hauled me across the pavement.
    “Just shut up!” Kevin snarled. With no apparent effort, he lifted me up and threw me into the truck. I landed hard. The only thing that broke my fall was a plastic tub filled with ice and bags of clams. With the wind knocked out of me, I was helpless. I lay there in a near stupor as Kevin pulled down the sliding door. The inside of the truck was now completely dark. I heard the sound of a lock. Within seconds, the truck was moving. I had, of course, been caught completely off guard. I’d been expecting to hear that Gavin was firing Josh, maybe, or that Simmer was closing. I’d been entirely unprepared for this... What the hell was it? A kidnaping? An assault? Finding words for what was happening, I found my voice and started screaming.
    Kevin maneuvered the truck around a corner, and Owen’s heavy metal dolly slid into me so painfully that in my mind’s eye, I could see the bruise that would appear on my leg. I tried to stand up, but my timing was bad: my mad chauffeur slammed on the brakes, and I was immediately thrown against the front wall. I crawled to the back door and started pounding my fists against the metal so fiercely that my hands hurt. I switched to kicking the door over and over with my feet. “Help me! Help! Get me out!”
    I started crying in panicked gasps as a terrifying thought raced through my head. Somewhere on the Web or maybe in a magazine, I’d read advice about what to do if you ever become the victim of an attack. A major point was to do everything possible to avoid being taken to a second location. If you are being moved to a second location, you are being moved there to be killed.
    I was heading to that second location.

EIGHTEEN

    IT was Kevin who had killed Leandra. That was the only conclusion to draw from this attack. But never mind what he had done in the past! Where was Kevin taking me now? And how could I have let this happen? I was disgusted with myself for not having screamed loudly enough when the truck was still in the alley behind Simmer. I should have tried to fight Kevin off before he locked me in this truck. Well, it wasn’t too late to estimate where the truck was now and to figure out where it might be heading. We’d taken a few turns since Kevin had driven us out of Simmer’s alley. After that, there had been a few short spurts of movement followed by stops, presumably at traffic lights. I’d continued to hammer at the door with my sore fists and feet, and I’d shouted for help, but the truck kept moving. Now we were beginning to pick up speed; there were no more stops. I felt sure that we were on the Mass Pike.
    I felt around on the floor of the truck in search of my purse, which held my cell phone. Dammit! I’d left my purse in Josh’s office! I continued exploring the floor. Somewhere in this truck there had to be something I could use in my own defense. My hands encountered what I easily identified as four tubs of ice and seafood: clams and fish. Ice and seafood were the last things I needed; even without the ice, the refrigerated truck would’ve been freezing cold, and the air reeked of fish. The metal dolly was heavy. It had already bruised me. I also found a long piece of metal, a rod of some sort with a curve at the end. I knew what it was! A long hook that Owen used to reach into the truck, hook the sides of the tubs, and pull them close to the edge of the back opening. The hook meant that Owen didn’t have to climb into the truck and push all the tubs around; he could hook and drag them instead. This