“I wasn’t asking what you ate last night, that’s for sure.”
“You’re an ass.”
“I know. You told me that already.” He laughed. “But yes, go ahead and continue talking about what you can remember from last night, and we can try to figure out why we’re here.”
“Last night, I was waiting for my friend at a bar. I hadn’t seen her in a while. I wanted to tell her about some stuff that was going on.” I bit my lower lip as I thought about Rosie. “I remember looking at the menu. I was going to have the steak.” I sighed and thought back to the previous evening. Or what I thought was the previous evening. I had no idea how much time had passed. “I was waiting to order until Rosie got there. I wanted us to have a nice evening.” I paused, not wanting to get into everything I’d wanted to tell Rosie about. “I ordered a glass of Moscato.”
“You like sweet wine?” He spoke softly, even though he was still bobbing around.
“Yeah, I do.” I froze as I remembered something. “I didn’t drink Moscato though.”
“Oh?”
“The bartender sent me a bottle of something else.” I closed my eyes and tried to remember. “It was a bottle of pinot noir. He said it was on the house.” I opened my eyes again. “Some new vineyard from Upstate New York had asked local bars to serve the wine.”
“Interesting.”
“Anyways, the waiter brought over a bottle of wine and poured me a glass while I waited for Rosie. I texted her asking where she was, and she arrived a few minutes later.” I paused as I tried to remember every detail that I could. “She hurried toward me and apologized. I remember she was angry because the waiter didn’t take her drink order fast enough. She was telling me about her job and then . . .” I frowned. “I can’t remember exactly. She needed to go to the restroom, and I saw a guy. The guy I think was following me.”
“Why do you think he was following you? What did he look like?”
“I can’t remember.” I sighed loudly. “I can picture him standing in the corner, watching me, but all I can see is his shadow. I can’t remember his face.”
“What happened next?”
“Someone came up to the table.” I shook my head, as if that would help me to remember more details. “I can’t remember who. All I remember next is waking up in the car trunk.”
“What happened to your friend Rosie?”
“I don’t know.” I froze and my eyes popped open. “I left something in her bag. I hope she’s okay.”
“I think she’s okay. I think she’d be here with us, if they were worried about her. They obviously just wanted to kidnap us.”
“Yeah. I wish I knew why.” Though, that wasn’t completely accurate. I was pretty sure I knew why I had been kidnapped, I just didn’t know why he had been kidnapped as well. I was pretty sure I’d been kidnapped because of my investigating the Bradley Corporation, but what, if any, connection did Jakob have?
“Do you know the Bradley Corporation?” I spoke slowly, as if the answer to his question was of no more importance than the color of his eyes.
“I’ve heard of it.” He responded to me without pause. “I can’t say I know it well. Why?”
“No reason.” I licked my lips. I was started to feel dehydrated. “Now I wish I hadn’t drunk that wine last night. I bet I wouldn’t be feeling so parched if I’d just stuck to water.”
“It is odd that you received a free bottle of wine, and not just a glass.” He spoke thoughtfully.
“Do you think that has anything to do with me being kidnapped?” I bit my lower lip. “I can’t remember much after that.”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I didn’t have wine last night. I’m more of a beer man.”
“Surprising.”
“Why’s that?”
“You seem more like a whiskey guy,” I responded swiftly. “I can picture you in a study with a crystal decanter.” I groaned inwardly. I had a tendency to speak before I thought. I didn’t want him to think I was interested in him.
“I do like whiskey—Yes!” he exclaimed.
“Wow, you really like whiskey.”
“No, no, I can see.” He was excited. “Shit.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. I knew exactly what the ‘shit’ was about.
“Where the fuck are we?” He sounded worried, and I knew he was thinking what I was thinking. How the hell were we going to get off this island?
“So about that whiskey . . . ?” I tried to crack a joke as we sat there in silence. Come to think of it, as much as I didn’t like Jakob, I was glad I wasn’t here by myself. If I were alone, I’d be sobbing already. “Do you think this is like that movie?”
“What movie?” he finally asked. “Swiss Family Robinson?”
“No, that crazy movie where that guy is pretending he’s dead, but really he’s waiting to see what happens.”
“I have no idea what movie you’re talking about.”
“Saw. That’s the name of the movie.”
“Weren’t they in a locked room?” He sounded confused.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “So?”
“In case it escaped you, we’re not in a room.”
“I know that,” I huffed. “I just meant, do you think that someone put us here so they can watch us, like some sort of experiment?”
“You mean, like It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World?”
“What?” I was surprised at his response. I didn’t know many people who’d watched that movie. In fact I didn’t know many men that enjoyed movies that didn’t have explosions and sex.
“They made a remake. Um, I think it’s called Rat Race.”
“The movie with Whoopi Goldberg?”
“Yeah. These rich men send a bunch of idiots on a quest around the country and place bets on what they think will happen.”
“I know. I saw it.” I grinned to myself. I bet I’d seen every movie he could think of.
“So, you think we’re being watched? Do you think there are cameras watching our every move?”
“Shit, that sounds a bit like The Truman Show!” I exclaimed. “Or Hostel.” I shivered. “Shit, if it’s Hostel, we’re so dead. That movie was so scary. I thought I was going to—”