Chapter Nine
Jim Nolan lay on the bed in the dark, waiting. His hosts hadn’t said much to him since bringing him to the house, relieving him of his phone, and showing him into the back bedroom.
He thought about Cynthia and how stressed she’d be not knowing where he was and what was happening to him. He didn’t understand why they’d taken his phone. It wasn’t like he’d be calling the police.
He cursed his rotten luck. This load was the last lot of cars he’d agreed to deliver, and the money he’d been promised would have seen them right for months. He sat upright. They hadn’t paid him, even though he had delivered four of the five cars. He wondered if he’d get paid at all, seeing as he was being treated more like a prisoner than a service provider. Things certainly weren’t going according t
