Something wasn't right with this picture. The hair on Tory's neck bristled as the van bumped along the back roads as if the drivers had been here before and knew the way. They knew exactly where to go-which turns to make.

"Who are you and what do you want with me?" Tory tried to ask through taped and trembling lips.

"Shut up or I'll do it for you," the guy sitting beside her said.

She took them seriously. She inched her hands toward the seat belt button, to try ...