A vision of Brandon’s Glock popped into her head. God, why had she hung up on him so fast? A hot lump of frustration clogged her throat. Three more seconds, and he would have overheard the attack and no doubt sent help. But no, she’d wanted to have the last word.

At the bottom of the shopping bag was a cardboard shoebox. She opened it and found another jumble of office supplies—pens, pencils, dry-erase markers. Combing through everything, she discovered a wooden gavel with Javi’s name engraved on it, along with the name of a judge he’d clerked for one summer. Not much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing.

Footsteps in the hallway. Frantic, she spun toward the door.

The footsteps stopped.

Leigh held her breath, gripping the gavel like a hammer as her heart pounded. Her chest felt tight. She stared at the twin towers of file boxes, expecting them to move.

Her numb brain registered the words scribbled on the side of the top box. Tel Equip.

Clutching the gavel, Leigh crept toward the door, not making a sound in her bare feet. Was he outside listening? Picking the lock?

Aiming a gun at it, maybe?

She didn’t know whether he was armed, but the ski mask told her he’d come prepared. Prepared for what, she had no idea. Silently, she lifted the lid on the top box and peered inside at a pile of loose file folders and a tangle of black cables. She spied a curly black cord, and her heart skittered. She plunged her hand into the box and pulled out an old black desk phone. Whirling around, she searched the room for a phone jack, but didn’t see one. Four electrical outlets, but no phone jack?

A small white board leaned up against the far wall. She rushed across the room and moved the board aside.

Jackpot!

Leigh dropped to her knees, wincing with pain as she set the gavel down and plugged the phone into the wall. She snatched the receiver to her ear and madly tapped the hang-up button. The hum of a dial tone sent an agonizing burst of hope through her. She jabbed at the numbers.

Please, please, please . . .

“Nine-one-one. Please state your emergency.”

“Someone just attacked me!” Her voice was high and shrill, and she hardly recognized it. “I’m at my office, and he’s right outside the door.” Her voice shook as she recited the address. “Come now! Hurry. He’s right outside.”

“Could you repeat that? He’s inside the building? Or outside?”

“Inside my building. I’m locked in an office, and he’s just outside the door. Hurry!”

“Stay on the line, please.”

An eternity ticked by as she listened to the clack of a keyboard.

“Ma’am? Can you describe the person who attacked you?”

Leigh’s chest constricted as she pictured his face just inches away.