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

tender hands. She was spluttering wildly and they were both dripping cold water as well.
    â€œOn your feet,” a voice snarled in heavily accented English. “No tricks or I shoot you.”
    Dav lifted his hands and Carrie rose. He struggled to do the same and felt the strength of her hand on his arm steadying him enough to get him to his feet.
    â€œYou, woman,” the voice ordered. “Keep your eyes down and your mouth shut.”
    There was a rustling and a sense of movement and Dav felt a rough hand drag at his left elbow. “Come,” the voice insisted.
    Stumbling sideways, Dav walked blindly with his captor. He could feel Carrie’s hand lightly clutching his other arm. He knew where the current players were, but without knowing the situation, or how many other captors there might be, he couldn’t formulate a plan. Not to mention that he was still woozy from the drugs. The moment he’d gotten to his feet, his head screamed with pain and pressure, which seemed to throb in time with their footsteps. His body was stiff from the awkward ride in the plane, and every joint ached from being tied at such painful angles.
    â€œGet in,” the voice demanded in English, shoving him forward. His shoulder impacted with steel—a vehicle.
    â€œTo your left,” Carrie whispered. “The Jeep door’s open.”
    â€œNo talking,” the voice snarled, and he heard the sound of flesh striking flesh.
    Carrie cried out and, propelled by the slap, bumped into him just as he bent forward. Her impetus drove him headfirst into the vehicle. He spared a moment to be grateful he didn’t rap his head on the door frame. He was at enough of a disadvantage without a concussion. She tumbled in after him and they had no sooner pulled in their feet than the door slammed. Now his head pounded further from hitting the armrest, another strike to add to the myriad pains he already owned. If he’d been able to see through the disgusting bag on his head, he was pretty sure he’d be seeing stars.
    On his hand, he felt the lightest touch. AY, and an O, and a U were drawn, feather light, with exacting care. Then an O and a K. You okay?
    He flipped her hand over, carefully formed the letters despite the pain in his fingers. Her earlier work on his hands, while excruciating, had helped him regain some flexibility.
    Yes. Where?
    It took him several tries to make sense of the letters she drew in his palm. Finally, he connected them properly.
    Jungle.
    How could they be in the jungle? As the vehicle started and pulled away from the airport or airstrip, he visualized the flight path, the possible places they could have gone. Southern Mexico or somewhere in Central America. They hadn’t flown long enough, he was pretty sure, to have gone all the way to South America, especially as far as the jungle areas. Nor could they have flown a plane this size to Hawaii or any other Pacific island without refueling.
    Carrie was writing again.
    Two men. Jeep.
    They drove for a short time on smooth roads, carefully signing back and forth to one another. Oddly enough, the two men in the front were silent. Not even the radio broke the hum of the engine and the subtle creak of the leather seats as they twisted and turned. There was an occasional shout or riff of music beyond the windows, but no bustle of real traffic, no city noises.
    That wasn’t good. It meant a small airport in a remote location.
    Without warning the vehicle dropped off the pavement onto dirt. Now the Jeep slowly jumped and bumped on a rutted, jouncing, pockmarked road. No further spelling to one another was possible since they were both desperately trying to stay on the seat and hang on as the car flung them every which way. Dav hit his head again, and this time, even with the bag, he truly saw stars behind his eyelids.
    The endless bouncing was made more unpleasant as the angles changed. They were ascending, turning and twisting along a