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“I bet.” This time, Coop murmured the words so low I barely heard them.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded, but neither paid any attention to me.

“The crowd’s clearing.” Locke made his report from in front of me, but Coop barely even grunted acknowledgement, like he didn’t know why his coworker had spoken.

The car started to roll forward again, creeping so slowly I had to concentrate to know we were moving. The helicopter noise outside had long since subsided, and if there was any crowd left, their noise didn’t permeate into the car, either. The oppressive quiet drove my alone-ness home. I was going off with somebody claiming to be a… claiming to be a… what? Had they shown me anything official at all? I grimaced, trying to recall.

Shit, what was I doing? I was sitting in a car with men I didn’t know. I was handcuffed, and they were driving me away from my job and my home. Did they even have identification? What organization were they with?Men in Black? My mouth twisted, and my throat dried. My palms felt sweaty. I attempted to rein in my mental panic.

My job.

For Bess. To keep Bess safe.

I tried to turn around again, but this time the movement was too rapid and the seat belt snapped taut over my chest.

Somebody grunted.

“Bess.” I croaked her name. “Is she okay?”

There was a scoffing noise from my right. The cranky one sat closest, of course.

“No one has been hurt in this morning’s operation,” Locke said, his tone reassuring but his words worrying.

I was part of an operation? What the hell was going on? Was this just a case of mistaken identity? I’d thought stories of secret government agencies picking normal people up off the streets were just that—stories.

Not something that actually happened in the real world.

Not something that happened to people like me, anyway.

Still, if they were telling the truth, Bess was all right. Not hurt, anyway. That goal had been accomplished. She was okay.

Then I scoffed. Not hurt physically but probably traumatized. It wasn’t every day her business was raided and an employee led out in handcuffs by armed men. My head spun; my thoughts whirled in all directions as I tried to gather my focus.

“I’m ahairdresser,” I said.

“What’s that?” Coop scoffed.

“You’ve got to have me confused with some rainbow-headed spy, and I want you to let me out of this car right now,” I snapped. Then I kicked the back of Locke’s seat.

“Quiet down,” cranky Coop barked. “Or we’ll gag you, too.”

My mouth dropped open. Gag me? Cruel and unusual wasn’t the half of it. I bit down on a stream of cursing. I wasn’t worth kidnapping. How could I be worth kidnapping?

“Where are you taking me?”

“I told you to be quiet.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Locke added, only marginally kinder.

The motion of the car changed, smoothing out as it picked up speed. A highway? I had no idea where we were going. I couldn’t even tell what direction we were traveling in. Definitely out of town, but I only knew that because none of these people belongedinmy town.

I rested my forehead against my window, and the vibrations rolled from the engine to the glass and worked through my face. My cheeks wobbled uncomfortably, and I turned my head to alleviate the sensation. Light peeked at the edge of my vision, so I shifted a little more.

I figured out, if I moved a certain way, the sunglasses lifted a little, and I could see outside. Maybe they wouldn’t notice since I wasn’t touching the shades with my hands. Cuffed with my hands behind my back wasn’t an option.

I studied the passing scenery through my periphery. The colors were muted, but the light helped the knot of worry in my chest. I knew the local area well enough to recognize the red barn in the distance, and my mind filled in the usual colors. If I noticed enough, maybe I could plan my route back home. Or at least tell emergency services where to send the cops.

When my forehead started to numb, I pressed my face harder against the glass until the askew sunglasses dug uncomfortably into the bridge of my nose. More light. I hated the dark.