Read Online Deadly Little Lies by Jeanne Adams - Free Book Online Page A

In vino veritas —in wine, truth—worked for drugs too. She would have thought of him first. Her earlier kisses seemed to be further proof of that.
    Short of instantaneous rescue, nothing could please him more. It would make the pain of the next steps, whatever they were, either easier to bear or the worst possible nightmare imaginable. He watched in silence as she maneuvered her license into her pocket, added the bulkier multitool to her other pocket. The slim-fitting skirt showed a bulge, so he had her move the tool to his jacket pocket. Their captors might take the coat away, or leave it in the plane, but they probably wouldn’t take his suit jacket.
    â€œNow, you need to rub my hands, get the circulation going,” he said, and noticed the horror reflected in her eyes when she saw his swollen fingers, the bluish cast to the skin.
    â€œOh, Dav,” she whispered, and he heard the tears in her voice. He wasn’t sure she was going to be able to do what was necessary.
    â€œJust do it, Carrie,” he insisted, making it a firm order. “It’s the pain now, or possibly losing my hands later.”
    Without a word, she faced him, braced her feet on the side wall of the plane, and took his hands in hers. With one brisk stroke, she began.
    It was all he could do not to moan with the horrific pain every stroke brought to his hands. She hesitated only briefly. He saw her jaw clench, but she kept working, stroking his hands, shifting the blood reluctantly through the engorged tissues. They were so involved, and he was so agonized, they nearly missed the further slowing of the plane, the drop in altitude.
    â€œStop,” he ordered, managing to grip her hands, a minor miracle he didn’t take time to appreciate.
    â€œWe’re landing,” she said, realizing instantly what he’d already felt. The hard bump of the wheels threw them together again, but they managed to arrange themselves as he’d suggested, to lead their captors to believe they were still asleep.
    â€œThe plane’s come to a stop,” Dav whispered, feeling the lurch, even though the propellers were still whirring. “Can you see anything out the window?”
    Carrie eased off his chest long enough to sneak a peek out the small windows in the cargo area. “No. It’s pitch dark. It’s clear, there’s a little bit of a moon. It looks like there are a lot of trees, but I can’t even be sure of that.”
    â€œOkay, come back. We must appear to be still asleep.”
    She put her head back down on him and he let his bound hands circle her once more. The pain still arced through each finger and ran up his arms and shoulders as his circulation fought to clear the pooling blood from his tightly secured hands. They were closer to their normal color now, and it was a small consolation that he could hold her.
    The door from the cockpit scraped open and he felt Carrie’s body tense. “Shhhhh,” he whispered, a thread of sound only she would be able to hear.
    There was a rapid spate of Spanish and he heard footsteps approach. He willed himself to be limp, unresponsive, even when the pilot kicked him hard in the leg.
    More rapidly spoken words, which he didn’t understand. Of all the languages he knew, he hadn’t learned more than a smattering of Spanish and nothing sounded familiar. He heard the change in the man’s tone, though, and his “Sí, Senor” was understandable.
    The man left the plane and hope leaped up in Dav’s heart. If they were left alone, even for a few minutes, they might escape. He was pretty sure he could get the plane up into the air, and once there, he could use the radio.
    Footsteps returned and he heard a grunt and a slosh. What he wasn’t prepared for was the cold blast of a full bucket of water hitting his covered head.
    Carrie jerked and gasped, bolting upright and taking him with her, making an agony of his already brutally