“Amen,” Hayes agreed. He took one last look at the gurney then said, “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll take you to pick up that car if the rental place is still open. Then Martinez and I will go and give Jerry Petrocelli the bad news.” He let out a long sigh. “God I hate this.”

“You and me both,” Martinez said.

The pink light of dawn was just streaking through the small port-hole in the hull of the ship, a tiny window Olivia hadn’t noticed until daylight began to stream into the foul place. Vermin had taken over the boat during the night. The sounds of tiny feet on the floorboards and claws scratching at the wood had accompanied the creaks and moans of the boat moving slightly on the water. At one time during the pre-dawn hours Olivia had thought she heard someone come aboard. But if that had been the case, no one had hurried down the stairs to either rescue or attack her, despite her yells and screams.

She’d barely slept. Her nerves had been jangled all night, expecting the boat to be ignited into a hideous conflagration that would kill her with deadly smoke, squeezing the air from her lungs, or, worse yet, burning her alive.

She couldn’t let that happen. And yet, when she closed her eyes it overcame her…the horror, the pain. She saw her skin crinkling and charring, felt her muscles and tissue consumed by hungry, excruciating flames. Her eyelashes and hair would singe as she screamed deep in the belly of this empty boat.

And no one would ever hear her.

The vision was so horrifying, so vividly real that Olivia tried to keep her eyes open. Even the grim reality of this dank, smelly hold was preferable to the images her willing mind conjured.

However, facing reality meant dealing with the inevitable. Olivia knew she would have to fight. When the time came, she would have to attack the woman who had detained her here. She’d rather take her chances against a knife or gun rather than be caged like an animal, forced to wait while the sick bitch decided her fate.

At least now, after enough hours, not only was her brain working again, but her limbs were doing what she asked of them and she felt no residual effects from the stun gun.

As the sun rose, she tried to plot her escape. She refused to be intimidated by a weapon if her abductor brandished one. Let her try.

Who was this sick, deadly woman?

What did she want?

Why was she holding Olivia prisoner?

Worse yet, what did she have planned?

Nothing good, Olivia knew that much.

And that scared her to death.