No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

“Answer me.” Darby’s voice wobbled with adrenaline,
with two strangers inside and two killers at the door outside.
They were listening, too. Everyone was listening. Everything
hinged on what this ex-veterinarian said next—
“Carlsbad,” Ed said. “We’re from Carlsbad.”
Not San Diego.
Darby blinked. Oh, thank God.
He threw up his arms. “There, Dara. You happy?”
She exhaled, like emptying her lungs after surfacing from
a deep dive. It was just a coincidence. Jay had been mistaken.
It’s easy to match faces among half-remembered strangers, and
apparently Sandi had a doppelganger in San Diego with a
morning bus route. California was a massive population
center, so it wouldn’t be unheard of that Ed and Sandi would
just so happen to hail from the same state as the abducted girl.
Everything else — just nerves. Just paranoia.
Silence outside. The brothers were still listening through
the door.
“I told you,” Jay whispered. “See? I was wrong—”
“Carlsbad,” Ed hissed to Darby, his face glistening with
sweat. “Carlsbad, USA. What else do you need, for Christ’s
sake? State? California. Zip code? 92018. Population? A
hundred thousand—”
“Sorry, Ed. I just had to make sure—”
She was vaguely aware of Sandi moving up behind her,
and she was turning to face the older woman when Ed
continued — “County? San Diego county” — and that was the
last clear thought that went through Darby’s mind before a
pressurized spurt of icy liquid fired into her eyes.
Then pain.
White-hot pain.