Her phone was gone. The clothes she’d been wearing, too. She didn’t have any shoes. He took the medicines out of the room after dosing her, but left her bottles of water to drink.

She had doctors and nurses to tend the damage to her face and neck, but Owen wouldn’t let her have a mirror. She burrowed into the bed, deliciously piled in softness and warmth, when the painkillers kicked in. The curtains kept out the light, so she could rest and heal. But it took hours, not days, to realize that the room was actually a well-appointed cell.

She’d asked for her phone, any phone, every time a nurse or doctor or the timid housekeeper came into the room. And every time, they’d avert their eyes and say that she’d need to talk to Mr. Haig about that.

When she did, Owen, in a tone with no inflection, had asked her if she’d be willing to call her partner. He obviously expected her to say no. He didn’t mind showing that the question was a prod. He watched her for a squirm. Her heart revved in her chest.

“He’s not my partner, Owen. I swear. I only met him a few days ago. He wouldn’t talk on the phone at all. I don’t even have a number for him.”

“Hmmmm. That’s a shame. But okay. There’s no reason for you to have the phone, then. But you can have the battery.”

He slid the silver-and-black square onto the bedside table.

Even the cell signal of Marcelline Gossard was gone. No one would find her that way.

Over the first days, the situation sketched in. Jonathan had taken the painting and the money in the interrupted sale. That was only known “in-house,” as Owen put it. The two people who came with Owen were dead. That was also being kept private. Marcelline Gossard had been officially reported missing by her family. Owen said her picture had made the news, but the nurse had gone pale and shut her down when she’d tried to plead with her to get a message out.

On day five, Marcelline started practicing standing and walking on her own. Her legs trembled and her heart pounded her blood into a froth that carried not near enough oxygen up to her head. But she did laps to test her stamina when she heard Owen in the shower or on the phone. She couldn’t help but notice that he never left her alone in the apartment.

She wasn’t ready for it on the day she had to leave, but Owen had asked her if she needed anything.

“No.”

“Okay.” He turned to go.