Despite her being so pissed off at me, I believe on some level, Patricia enjoyed the challenge I gave her. She dolled herself up, drove to the casino, and sidled up next to EJ at the poker table. Just like in his fantasy, she didn’t even tell him her name. Then she lured him to her vehicle, with the promise of going back to her place. I told her exactly what to say.

During the car ride, he would have become more and more drowsy from what Patricia had slipped into his drink at the casino, until he finally lost consciousness. I swear, it gets easier every time I drug EJ. You would think he would see it coming by now.

“Did you check him out of the hotel?” I ask.

“Yes. I used his phone.” She looks down at her fingernails, which are painted blood red. “And I moved his Porsche to another lot with long-term parking. He’s paid up for a month.”

EJ has no friends and no job. His parents are gone. Nobody will even notice him missing for weeks if not months.

I follow Patricia to her Audi. A dark shadow of a man occupies the back seat. That’s him. She did it. She really did it. She did what Luke couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.

“I duct taped his hands together,” she tells me. “I did his legs too, but there’s a bit more give so he can walk. I stuck a piece over his mouth, but you can’t see it because he’s got the sack on his head.”

She’s got guts—I’ll give her that. She drove all the way here from Connecticut with a man tied up in the back seat. Yes, it was the middle of the night. But if she had gotten pulled over, that would’ve been the end.

“I only tied him up about twenty minutes ago,” she says, as if reading my thoughts. “He started stirring, and I didn’t want to take a chance.”

“His phone?”

Patricia reaches into her purse and pulls it out. She drops it into my waiting hand. I squint down at the black screen in the darkness. “You powered it down?”

“I did. But I’ve heard they can sometimes track a phone as long as it still has a battery. So be careful.”

I’ll be very careful. I fully intend to pulverize this phone until it’s unrecognizable.

When we get closer, I see the paper sack on EJ’s head. The paper crinkles slightly as he shifts in his seat. It’s hard to tell how awake he is since he’s immobilized. I sort of hope he’s awake for this next part.

Patricia pulls the back door open. Now I can see the duct tape securing EJ’s hands together. She kicks him in the calf with her high heels, hard enough to leave behind a bruise.