The strange thing was … it was chained and locked.

Trying to overcome the panic charging through him, he drew a deep breath and slid the bolt, ready to lift the covering on the slot Emmett had cut into the door.

Please, be there. Bending, Bishop looked inside.

Evelyn felt a tremendous sense of relief when she heard the slide of the bolt. But that relief was short-lived. She knew her situation hadn’t improved when she scrambled to the door and saw Lyman Bishop’s beady eyes peering in at her.

“Wow! This is my lucky day, after all,” he said. “I thought you’d escaped.”

Evelyn wished that were the case. Actually, “wished” wasn’t nearly a strong enough word.

“Water,” she said simply. Although she’d forced down some toilet water—without getting sick—since she’d last seen Emmett, it wasn’t nearly enough.

“What did you say?”

He had to have heard her. He just hadn’t expected such a simple response—a response with no surprise at seeing him, no comment on his ability to get around or think despite the dire predictions after his hemorrhage and no pleading for her freedom.

Summoning what strength she had left, she raised her voice. “Water! I need water. Now. And some food.”

He didn’t move. “Emmett wasn’t bringing you anything to eat or drink?”

“I haven’t seen him”—she swallowed against a dry throat—“for a while. I can’t say for how long. I have no way of reckoning time in here.”

“I’d have to guess it’s been a day, maybe a day and a half. He’s in full rigor, and that usually goes away after twenty-four hours.”

“You should know,” she said simply.

“Know what?”

A serial killer who’d buried so many victims had to be familiar with rigor mortis. But she let it go. She was too sick to argue.

“What happened to him?” he asked.

“No clue,” she lied.

“That’s interesting.” He disappeared from the slot and she heard movement. When he returned, he showed her the shiv she’d made. “Because no one in the outside world would use this type of weapon.”

She said nothing at the sight of her bloody shiv, merely slumped against the same wall as the door so he couldn’t see her any longer and closed her eyes. She’d killed the guy who’d kidnapped her.

Emmett. Bishop had called him Emmett. Until now she hadn’t even known his name! But she was surprised by how little she cared. If she had ahold of that shiv, she’d kill Bishop, too. She’d kill anyone who tried to stop her from getting out of this damn cell.

“Evelyn?”

She didn’t bother answering.

“Hello? Where’d you go?”

Let him open the door to look. She wasn’t going to make anything easy for him.

“How’s the baby? Is everything okay there?”

“She’s going to die without clean water. Is that what you want?” She guessed he did. To most of the dangerous men she’d met, a fetus would be a nuisance at best and a method to inflict maximum pain and torture on her at worst.