She had been in a terrible predicament before, but Pia felt more desperate this time. Not only did she have no idea where she was being held, but she hadn’t seen or heard a soul since she had started coming around. She thought about yelling out but didn’t think her headache would tolerate it. Best to wait. Was she someplace within Nano? She had no idea.

So it was almost with relief that a few minutes later Pia heard dead bolts being drawn on the heavy wooden door opposite where she was lying. A figure ducked his head to pass through the low doorway, and Pia knew before he looked up that it was Zach Berman.

Chapter 50

50.

PAUL CALDWELL’S APARTMENT, BOULDER, COLORADO

TUESDAY, JULY 23, 2013, 10:13 A.M. MST

Paul paced around his apartment, waiting for George Wilson to show up so he could tell him his news. After listening to Paul talk for two minutes on the phone in the middle of the night, George had told Paul to stop. He had heard enough, and he was coming out to Boulder on the next flight he could get. George had refused Paul’s offer to pick him up from the airport, saying Paul should stay home in case Pia showed up. To Paul, George sounded much calmer than he himself felt. Impossible though it seemed, George had experience of a situation with Pia that was not dissimilar to what was currently going on.

The buzzer to the outer door rang and no sooner had Paul buzzed George in than he was in the apartment.

“Any word?” George asked the moment he came into Paul’s living room.

“I got a text. An hour ago.”

“From Pia?”

“Look.” Paul handed George his phone. The text identified Pia as the source and read, “Heading home. Don’t worry. Will call soon.”

“Did you reply?” asked George.

“Of course. I called and texted back and got a reply: ‘Don’t worry.’”

“What do you think?” asked George.

“It’s not Pia. That’s what I think. Someone’s got her phone.”

Paul told George what he’d found on the screen on Pia’s computer.

“I don’t think Pia thinks of the northeast as home, do you?”

“No,” said George. “I don’t.”

For a moment the two men looked at each other. The only way they were acquainted was through the prism of Pia, and their short interaction after Pia’s accident when George had sacked out for some hours in Paul’s apartment. The current circumstance wasn’t the most opportune moment to expand their friendship, as both were nervous, on edge, and tired.

“Thanks for calling me,” George said, and he meant it.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” admitted Paul. “You’re our white knight.”

George wondered about that comment but didn’t respond to it. Instead he said, “And you kept trying her cell?”