“Midnight’s got a reputation for funny people,” he said. “I think you’re one of the funny ones.”

“Funny ha-ha, right?” she said.

“Funny crazy,” he replied. She shut her mouth. But her curiosity couldn’t let her keep quiet forever.

“Where are we going?” she asked, after an interval.

“To a place your buddies will never find. A place behind my parents’ house.” He laughed. “My mom and dad ain’t been in it in ten years.”

“A bomb shelter?” she asked.

“Hey, how’d you know?” He was immediately suspicious and indignant.

I figured it out, idiot. “Not too many basements in Texas, so I figured it was a separate building. Marthasville isn’t on a lake, so it couldn’t be a boathouse.”

She could almost feel his suspicious eyes dart over her vulnerable skull. She held her breath until the moment had passed when he would have hit her.

She prayed to the Goddess and her consort to get her through this mess alive, and she prayed her friends were looking for her now . . . if the damn lazy cat had done his job.

“Did you see my cat?”

“What?” She’d definitely surprised him with that one.

“My cat. Did you see my cat in the store? Did you shut the door?”

Her heart was sinking as she realized that Mr. Snuggly might be stuck in the shop with no way to get out. “No opposable thumbs,” he always said, smug as a cat could be, when she asked him to do something the least bit difficult.

“I don’t know,” Price Eggleston said with massive irritation. “You worried about your kitty? You should be worried about yourself. Your own pussy!” he said, proud of his own wit.

She had to admit she was more than a little worried about every part of herself. She wanted her friends to come after her, and she had no doubt that they would . . . if they knew she was in trouble. But that was far from certain. And Eggleston had a gun. If anyone (and anyone meant Bobo) was hurt in rescuing her, she would feel terrible forever. “Save me, save me!” had morphed into “Help me . . . without getting hurt.”

Far too soon to suit Fiji, Eggleston slowed down for the first traffic light on the outskirts of Marthasville. Fiji saw the well-lit parking lot of the Cartoon Saloon shining through the downpour. She spared a thought for the handsome bouncer, who had never called her. After another light, the truck turned right. They were still not in the town, but Fiji realized they were in an older and affluent suburb. The trees were all well grown and the houses set back from the road. After they’d driven past three homes, Eggleston turned right into a driveway that seemed very long but was probably only a quarter of a mile. The truck stopped. Her captor got out and came around to pull her out of her side.