Page 60 of Skin Game

“I’m a nice guy, some even would say considerate. Maybe not everyone would say that, but lots of folks.” Gabe paused. “Okay, so maybe only my close friends would say that, but they are very good judges of character.”

He was greeted with silence. Which was disappointing.

His head throbbed where he’d been hit. Gabe was choosing to believe he’d been dazed and not knocked out because he hadn’t been out that long. Coming back to himself while they were wrestling the disgusting rag over his head, he’d done his best to resist, but they’d bound his wrists and ankles.

He managed to roll one wrist and was rewarded with hard, pointy plastic.

Zip ties. Great. He wasn’t escaping those.

“So, hey, did you guys watch a lot of Scooby-Doo as kids?A Night of Fright is No Delightwas my favorite episode althoughAGaggle of Galloping Ghostswas good too. I bet you wonder how I remember the titles. Can’t explain it, there’s a lot of useless information saved in my brain.” While he talked, Gabe continued to try and free himself, but the way they’d thrown him in meant he was right up against some boxes with no spare room to be had. If he kept at it, he was going to end up being one large, Gabe-sized bruise. Casey would not be happy.

Gabe knew he should be frightened, but he wasn’t. Maybe the odor of the bag was affecting his judgment. By his estimate, they’d been driving for at least thirty minutes, which meant they weren’t on Heartstone any longer unless they were going in circles, but Gabe didn’t recall bumpy roads, like this one appeared to be, on the island. He amused himself by imagining he wasriding in the Mystery Machine while careening recklessly along the unpaved back roads of the Olympic Peninsula.

Twice the van slowed and the engine revved when the driver punched the gas, the tires struggling on what Gabe was going to assume was a muddy-ass road. The rain pounding down on the roof of the car sounded like they were in a car wash, making the already crazy experience even more surreal.

“I watched that show, like, alot. I had a crush on Daphne, but didn’t everyone? Admittedly, I thought Fred was hot too, and Shaggy had his own appeal. And Velma’s glasses, wow. Okay, I had a crush on the whole gang.” He thought he heard a whisperedJesus Christ, but he wasn’t sure.

Good. Maybe he could annoy them into speaking, giving away something that would tell him who these fuckers were.

The van started to slow once more and then this time stopped entirely. A door opened with a screech, and Gabe heard someone jump out of the vehicle. Then the door slammed shut and the van started moving again, but at a snail’s pace and for a much shorter period of time.

“Help me get him out,” said the guy he’d labeled as Number One. Abruptly, Gabe realized the voice was that of Dirty Socks Randy.

Seriously, Dirty Socks had kidnapped him? Gabe was almost embarrassed.

“You know, I could walk myself out if you took the zip ties off me. There’s no need for the rough handling.”

“Don’t you never shut up?” asked a second voice.

Dammit. He knew that was a voice he hadn’t heard before.

“What can I say, it’s a curse.”

“Get him into the back now.”

That last voice was female and another one he thought was familiar. He’d heard that one recently too. Sometime in the last few days, perhaps even in the past twenty-four hours, right around?—

No. It couldn’t be.

Gabe didn’t want to believe that Althea Mortine was behind this. But Dirty Socks Randy certainly wasn’t the mastermind.

Randy and his pal grabbed Gabe’s feet, dragging him forward so that he dangled half in and half out of the van. Was there to be no dignity for him at all?

“Ow, mind my head,” Gabe said when he was thumped against the unyielding side of the kidnap van.

“Cut those things off his ankles so he can walk on his own,” said the woman.

Gabe tried to think who else the voice could belong to. He didn’t want it to be Althea, but between the whack on the head, the hood, and the godawful stench, he was having a hard time thinking straight.

And he was fooling himself. That voice belonged to Elton’s girlfriend.

With one kidnapper at each shoulder—and the Fucking Stinky Hood still on his head—he was led into what he presumed was some sort of structure. From the way everyone’s footsteps echoed, he figured they were in a large but enclosed area, maybe a garage. There was no rain or wind that he could feel.

That’s because you have a hood over your head, Chance.

Thanks a lot, Heidi.

“Does anyone want to step up and tell me what the fuck—and I cannot emphasize that particular word enough—this is fucking about?”