Chapter 1

"Son of a..." I gripped my pounding head and curled into the fetal position, trying to breathe through the pain while cursing my decision to sit up in what I could now see was an enclosed space.

It took several moments for my brain to dislodge the fogginess of sleep and the reality of my position became evident to me. As I processed my surroundings, several things hit me at once. Despite my first impressions, the darkness around me was broken by extremely thin slivers of light, and I could hear and feel the rumbling of an engine. I was also being thrown around within the small space I had found myself in. I was in the trunk of a car and, even though I had no memory of how I had ended up here, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I hadn't got in here willingly. My stomach churned as a number of chilling scenarios careened through my head, but I kept coming back to the most obvious. I had been kidnapped. I didn't know who and I didn't know why, but there was one thing I knew with absolute certainty. They had the wrong person, and when they realized their mistake, I was going to be in a lot of trouble. Or at least, a lot more trouble than I was in right at this moment.

There was nothing in my life that justified me being kidnapped. I was a librarian, not usually considered a high-risk occupation. I wasn't walking down a dark alleyway. I hadn't accidentally witnessed a mob boss killing one of his underlings. I didn't have an ex-boyfriend who would give me a passing thought, let alone feel the need to stalk me. In essence, I was the last person in the world who should be kidnapped. And yet, it seemed I had been. I tried to concentrate in an effort to work out what had happened. The last thing I remember was opening my front door to what I assumed was my regular pizza guy, Chet, who constituted the closest relationship I had these days. Instead, I found a woman old enough to be my grandmother who, without a word, threw dust in my face. After that I knew nothing until my unfortunate decision to try to sit up while stuffed in the trunk of a car.

My heart clenched as I realized that the car had stopped. I needed to get out of here. My head hurt from where I had cracked it on the lid of the trunk, my limbs were cramping from being curled up for I didn't know how long, I needed to pee in the worst way, and there was a weird smell in this trunk that I did not want to think too closely about. As I scrubbed my hand over my face, I tried to pull my scattered thoughts together. There had to be a way out of here. I started feeling around to see if there was some kind of latch or lever I could use to open the trunk. I snatched my hand back suddenly when I felt something tear into my palm. Tears of pain and frustration sprang into my eyes. Why was this happening to me? As far as I knew I hadn't done anything wrong. I tried to live my life as quietly as possible. Things had been tough for me when my mother died, but I'd got through it. I was used to knowing I was all alone in the world, and I did the best I could. I blinked back the tears. I needed to get out of here. I started checking again, carefully using the one hand that wasn't injured. I stopped when I heard voices that seemed to be getting louder as people came closer to the car.

"Have you lost what is left of your mind? I am going to put you in a home, Grandma. That way at least the rest of the world can be protected from your particular brand of lunacy."

That didn't sound like something a kidnapper should be saying.

"You were supposed to be a moderating influence on Margot. This is one of the stupidest things you have ever done."

I heard a snort of laughter. "Sweetheart, you know that isn't even close to being true."

There was a pause in the conversation, and I tapped tentatively on the trunk lid.

"Uh, excuse me. I need some help. I think someone's made a mistake, but that's okay. I'm a very forgiving person." I thought hard for a second. "And forgetful. If you let me out, I'll forget this ever happened."

I heard a swift intake of breath. "She's awake. You kept her in the trunk and she's awake."

"Look, I really don't want to cause any trouble. I think you've made a big mistake, but if you can just let me out of here, I'm sure we can sort it out and nobody has to get in any trouble."

I heard the scraping of the key opening the trunk and slapped my uninjured hand over my eyes.

"Why do you have your hand over your face?"

"I don't know who you are. I can't identify you." I'd read enough crime thriller novels to know you never wanted to be a witness.

"You're being ridiculous. We're not going to hurt you."

I kept my hand exactly where it was. I wasn't sure if I believed the kidnapper with the friendly voice. I stiffened when I felt my hand being peeled away from my face, and I blinked as the light pierced my eyes.

"Hi."

The friendly voice belonged to a woman about my age whose defining feature seemed to be a tangled mane of red hair. If she wasn't one of my kidnappers, I would have said she had kind eyes and a sweet smile.

"I'm Tilda Atwill. Technically my name is Matilda, but everyone calls me Tilda. When I was eleven I tried to get people to call me Mattie, but it never caught on." She paused for a moment. "If you want to call me Mattie, that would be great."

I watched her, unsure what the correct response to this situation should be.

Tilda swallowed nervously and nodded her head in the direction of an older woman who was standing next to her. "And this is my grandmother, Maude. I'm really sorry about what she did but she's getting old and kind of losing it."

Maude pursed her lips. Even if I hadn't been told they were related I would have worked it out. They had the same round faces with out-of-control hair, although Maude's was gray rather than the fiery red. "I heard that."

"Oh, that you can hear, but when I told you we had to approach this situation with delicacy you obviously weren't paying attention."

Maude turned to Tilda and put her hands on her hips, her eyes firing sparks. "None of them were going to help us. We asked and they were ignoring us. What else did you expect me to do?"

"I expected you to be an adult and not come up with some insane idea that involved kidnapping an innocent woman."

Another voice piped up behind them and I could see a taller woman standing there, her gray hair clipped short in a pixie cut. "It was the only way for us to be sure she'd say yes."

"She didn't say yes," Tilda grated. "You just didn't give her the opportunity to say no." Tilda turned around and faced the older woman. "Let me guess. This was your idea, wasn't it, Margot?"

I closed my eyes in defeat. Great. Now I not only knew what all my kidnappers looked like, they had kindly provided their names. The very last thing that I wanted.

"Can I get out of here?"

Tilda looked flustered as she helped haul me out of the trunk. I stumbled against her as my legs hit the ground.

"You'll be okay," she murmured in my ear, still holding me against her as I got my bearings. "I promise."

I swallowed, unable to get the thick feeling out of my throat. "I live in Augusta. Can someone get me back there?"

Tilda looked at me sympathetically. "Augusta's only a couple of hours away. I'll drive you home as soon as I've dealt with this mess. I am so sorry."

For the first time since the trunk had been opened I saw a look of guilt on Maude's face. "She doesn't mean Augusta, Maine. She lives in Augusta, Georgia."

I started forward as Tilda's face grew red. I'm no doctor but I was pretty sure she looked like she was about to have a heart attack.

"Are you telling me that she has been locked in that trunk for a couple of days?"

"Closer to one day," Margot interjected. "We took turns driving and sleeping so we could get back here as quickly as possible. Also, we may not have stuck strictly to the speed limit. So, it was really a little less than one day."

"That does not make it better," Tilda hissed.

She let go of me and eyed me critically as I sagged back against the car, shocked at what I had just been told.

"You look like you're hungry. Maybe I should get you something to eat."

"You think getting me food is going to make me forget that your grandmother kidnapped me, threw me in a trunk and left me there for almost twenty-four hours while she drove me through at least half a dozen states..."

"It was closer to ten, we took a lot of back roads," Maude interrupted. "I thought you were a librarian. You should know that kind of information."

Tilda and I turned and glared at the woman who had managed to make both our lives that much more difficult.

"Sure, fine, get me some food."