the kidnapper said. “This project is over.”
“What’s your problem?” Blake shot her a worried glance. “I did what you wanted.”
“Changed my mind,” he repeated, angrily. “Never contact me again.”
“You can’t just cut me off like that. You owe me.” Blake put a convincing whine into his voice. “What am I supposed to do with the girl?”
“Get rid of her.”
A shudder ran through her. This man had called for Emily’s death as casually as he’d order a pizza.
Playing along, Blake drawled, “Are you telling me to kill her? ’Cause that’s going to cost you extra.”
“Do whatever you want with her. Do it slowly, painfully. You boys can have yourselves some fun making her squeal. That will be payment enough for your services.”
A muscle in Blake’s jaw twitched but he kept his voice flat and emotionless. “You promised cash. Half up front and half now.”
“Let’s cut the crap. I know who you are.”
“Is that so?”
The kidnapper’s voice turned cold. “Don’t play games with me. You’re out of your league.”
Abandoning his fake voice, Blake said, “We should talk.”
“Oh, we will. Not today but soon. Good night, Major Randall.”
The phone went dead.
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