Chapter Eighteen
Trisha watched carefully as the five men settled into their seats and strapped down. Jaron sat to her right, and the man who was in the corridor the first day she awoke was sitting to her left. Trisha didn’t recognize the other three men, but they didn’t look like they were going to be considered “friendly.”
Jaron was able to slip Trisha food and drink over the last four days of her confinement. She kept it hidden under the cot just in case someone else came in. She was also fortunate they didn’t feel threatened by her or feel the need to search her. She’d developed a bad habit when she worked for Boswell of carrying her Leatherman micro with her everywhere. Because the uniforms didn’t have pockets, she used the one that came naturally for women—she hid it between her br
