Chapter Thirty-Two

Brandy

Driving while crying was probably not the greatest plan, but at this point, what did it matter? If I ran off the road and exploded into a hundred million pieces, at least then I’d save myself the embarrassment of the video going everywhere, right? It was one way out of the problem.

The text just had an address. Nothing else. No instructions, no ransom amount, no threats. Just an address.

I typed it into my GPS and found that it was an office building, which looked like it was still active. Unlike the country club, this place looked like somewhere people actually would be. There were restaurants nearby, fast food places, all kinds of stuff that would indicate that it was a somewhat busy area. Completely different than last time.

What was up with that? Why alone, at midnight?

I didn’t want to go inside a building because I felt like that would make it easier to kidnap me or murder me. But then, I was perfectly willing to get out of a truck and wander into the middle of a parking lot of an abandoned country club, so I probably wasn’t the best at making those kinds of safety calls. At least not anymore.

The drive seemed to take forever, and I tried to keep myself motivated by thinking about Collin. Even if I didn’t make it through this, if I could save him the embarrassment, it would be worth it. If I could save Basil and my grandmother, that would be worth it. If I could impart just a little bit of good in this world, doing this was a noble sacrifice.

Something in my rearview mirror caught my eye, and I watched it for a second as I drove. A car pulled onto the highway from a hidden spot along the side of the road. I wondered if it was a cop doing traffic tickets, but I had been going the speed limit the entire time. Why pull out after me? My cruise control was on, so it wasn’t even like I could have had a lead foot.

I kept an eye on it as I drove, but the car hung back, not really speeding up or slowing down, but maintaining a speed behind me. I wondered if it was whoever was blackmailing me, watching me. If they were, then I wasn’t going to give them any excitement. I hit the cruise control and took my foot off the pedals. It wasn’t like there were a whole lot of twists and turns anyway.

Eventually, I noticed there were two cars, one much farther back. At this time of night, there were usually only truckers out this way, so they kind of stuck out a little. But they could be traveling, and the person who pulled off the side of the road might have just been on the phone beforehand. It was common enough of a practice to pull over to make a call that I’d done it before.

My anxiety was getting to me. I was starting to see things now, and make connections that weren’t real. I was worried I was being followed, just because two other cars were on the road.

Turning on the radio, I tried to drown out my thoughts and emotions by playing something loud and annoying. Pop music was good for that.

That lasted all of two songs before Taylor Swift started crooning about an ex, and I lost it again thinking about Collin. Switching to the closest hard rock station, I cranked it up and rolled down the windows, letting in the dry heat of a warm spring day in West Texas.

Finally, I found the exit and pulled off, and the GPS led me only a couple of miles down the road. There were still places open nearby, and the office itself still had cars parked in it. I guessed it was possible that there were companies that had overnight workers that stayed in the office, since it seemed like way more than a cleaning crew. As I pulled into the parking lot, looking for a space, I noticed a car that looked oddly familiar.

Then it hit me. It was a production truck, just like the ones from the show. I couldn’t be completely sure it was the same ones, or the same production company, but it had all the same hallmarks. Including the space on the top that opened up to reveal a powerful satellite for live streaming video when needed.

There was more than one local company that did filming though, right? There had to be lots of them. People who filmed politicians and commercials and all sorts of stuff. There were bound to be dozens of production companies in West Texas. It couldn’t just be the one. Right?

The building felt alive. There was movement inside; I could see shadows moving by windows. The main lobby itself looked empty, but there were lights on, and a closer inspection revealed that, in fact, it wasn’t empty at all. There were people there. They were just not moving much.

What the hell was going on?

I texted that I was there to the number that had reached out and waited about ten minutes. Every second was absolute torture, but the longer they didn’t respond, the worse it got. I was tempted to leave. To just bolt and say the hell with it. But I had to stick it out. For Collin, for Basil, for Grandma. Even if not for me.

Someone came out of the building, a taller man with a beard and a ballcap on. He looked left and right, as if he were checking for someone, then went to the production van. He opened it up and pulled out a tripod, further cementing that it was the kind of truck I thought it was. He took it inside, and I noted that the door didn’t seem to be locked, nor did he lock it behind him.

Taking a slow breath to calm my nerves as best I could, I grabbed my main duffel bag and brought it with me. I didn’t think taking it inside would be a good idea, but I wanted it somewhere easy to grab if I had to run but couldn’t get back to my car. I found a bush by the front of the building and tucked it under there, then made my way to the door.

If something seems dangerous, I’ll just run , I told myself. At the first sign that something is wrong, just go. Don’t think. Just run.

I yanked on the glass door and walked in.

A dozen people were inside, all standing around the lobby in various places, almost looking posed. They stopped cold when I came in. Their faces turned my way, their eyes locking on me. It was like a horror movie. A dozen sets of eyes followed me from the front door all the way across the lobby to the main desk. Then they all moved a step closer, and I froze to the spot.

I was terrified. My legs wouldn’t move, and despite my brain screaming that it was time to go, it was time to run, they did nothing. I was rooted to the spot, for better or worse, as a dozen people watched me with no expression, mannequin-like.

Ahead of me, there was an elevator, and I watched as the lights above it ticked down from the fifth floor. Each floor it reached, it dinged slightly in the distance, but it never slowed. It reached the bottom and stopped, the light disappearing. I held my breath in the pregnant pause before the doors opened and waited.

All dozen sets of eyes turned to the elevator. They were waiting on whoever was going to come out of it.

This was it.

This was when I found out who was manipulating me, who was running this show.

I held my breath and waited.

The doors slid open.