25
I yanked at the handcuff. I don’t know why. I knew it wasn’t going to magically slip off my wrist.
I settled into bed, leaning against the headboard. Edna should be here soon. But how was she going to get in?
There was nothing to do but wait. At least Brett hadn’t taken my phone, I thought, pulling it out of my pocket.
Mrs. Janowski’s text was waiting for me.
10-4.
That’s the text that got me handcuffed to the bed. I replied with: Bring handcuff keys.
The minutes ticked by slowly, and I was about ready to start gnawing at the headboard to escape when a sound caught my attention. If my ears were correct, a tiny woodpecker was pecking at metal. But unless the tiny woodpecker could say “blast it!” I knew there had to be another explanation.
“Hello?” I shouted.
“It’s just me, dear,
