Til Death Do Us Part

Chapter 5

"Eddie" led me down a hallway beyond the kitchen, stopping at a door with another deadbolt on it. Here he stopped and searched in his pockets until he found his keys. He unlocked the door, opened it, and pulled me into a two-car garage.

I looked around. The garage door was shut, and there was only one tiny window in the rear wall,.. which, like all the others, had plywood nailed over it. He took me to his car -- a beat-up, rusty old Toyota Corolla -- and guided me around to the passenger-side door, opening it for me like a proper gentleman. I got in and he shut the door. I put on my seatbelt, watching as he went around to the driver's side, wondering if he was really crazy enough to try taking me to some restaurant in town. If he was, then as soon as we got onto the road, I was going to fling open my door, roll out of his car, and take off running, screaming for help.

He got into the driver's seat, shut his door, put on his seatbelt...then just sat there.

I waited for him to start the engine and open the garage door. He didn't.

Instead, he just pantomimed inserting a key into the ignition, turning the engine, and shifting the gear.

I sat there, watching stupefied as he mimicked driving, hands turning an invisible steering wheel, making car sounds ("Vroom! Vroom!") like a little kid pretending to drive his dad's car, staring straight ahead with an unnerving empty expression.

We must have sat there for at least twenty minutes while he pretended to drive, "stopping" at imaginary stop signs and red lights. Finally, he "slowed down" and "turned the wheel" sharply as if pulling into a parking lot. He mimed putting on his brakes, then "parked."

He glanced at his watch. "Whew! We're just in time! I was afraid we were going to be late!"

"What time is it?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Eight fifty-seven. Our reservation's at nine."

Eight fifty-seven. It had been less than eight hours since this nightmare had begun. By now Tony would have returned from school. He would have noticed my absence and seen the signs of struggle in the house. He would have seen that my door had been kicked in and that my purse was still in the house with my phone in it. He must have already called the police. They were probably looking for me right now...but they wouldn't know where to look. I didn't even know how far "Eddie's" house was from mine.

Unless he had maybe left some evidence behind that they could use to identify him. Had he been wearing gloves when he'd abducted me? Fuck, I hadn't even noticed at the time.

"Come on," he was saying as he opened his door, "we better hurry." He came around and opened my door for me, escorting me back into his house. Aren't you going to give your keys to the valet? I considered asking sarcastically then quickly concluded that probably wouldn't be a good idea.

He led me back back through the kitchen and into the living room. I thought for a moment we were heading back upstairs, but instead he ushered me to a door opposite the one to the kitchen that I hadn't noticed before.

It looked like it was probably his dining room. It had been dressed to resemble a posh restaurant. There was a white linen cloth on the table and two places were set with fine china and silverware. Two candles were already burning. Elegant violin music was playing through stereo speakers on the walls.

He pulled my chair out for me -- again, like a perfect gentleman -- and I sat down. He sat across from me, taking a linen napkin and placing it in his lap. I did likewise.

He smiled at me. "Shall we begin?"

"Sure!" I said, trying to sound pleasant and eager. I glanced at my plate. "It looks great!"