A/N: Thanks to all who have been reviewing, it's much appreciated. I woke up this morning , checked my email, and it was like Christmas.

Chapter Two

"Mrs. Stewartson, I don't know how to explain this to you. You didn't make a hotel reservation, so I couldn't put you in room 2004. I can put you in room 3006. That faces the beach, too, and it's only one floor up."

"But it's our favorite room!"

Lisa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The Stewartsons were both good customers and she liked them a lot, but they never booked their favorite room in advance. And then promptly wondered why the room was never available when they got there. No matter how many times Cynthia, Mark, or Lisa had explained this fundamental fact to them, the concept still seemed a bit beyond comprehension.

It didn't help that Cynthia was making faces behind her. Goofy ones. And whispering things that were barely audible to Mark. Lisa could hear everything. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Unfortunately, it made her stomach hurt.

"Ms. Reisert, what is the matter?" Mrs. Stewartson asked, looking scandalized.

The whole thing was so ridiculous Lisa had to let out a chuckle. In fact, she was starting to laugh so hard by the time Cynthia got around to mimicking Mrs. Stewartson that her sides hurt. Tears were practically streaming from her eyes, but this time it was the good kind.

"I'll take the third floor room," Mr. Stewartson interjected hastily, looking as if he was absolutely convinced he was surrounded by a bunch of nutcases.

Lisa apologized when the wave of giggles passed and set the arrangements up with them. The couple looked perplexed as they headed into the elevator to go upstairs.

"That was entirely unprofessional," Lisa said, trying to scold Cynthia. But it didn't work. It never worked. The two of them just got along too well. And it didn't help her case that she was still laughing so hard.

"I couldn't help it. I mean, what were they expecting? And it always happens to them. No one else." Cynthia grabbed her jacket and slipped it on.

Lisa put her own on and grabbed her purse. She opened it compulsively-- all was in order. Pepper spray stuck firmly under her planner. Keys on top of everything. Ready to go. She grabbed her keys and stuck the ring around her finger. There was no way she'd fumble around by her car trying to find her keys tonight.

Cynthia chattered happily as they got ready to leave for the night. Lisa listened absently until her friend said, "Hey, you sure you're going to be okay? Want me to walk you to your car and make sure you get there?"

"Is there any reason to believe I won't get there?" she asked, managing a smile.

"No, I just want you to feel better."

Lisa nodded. Although she hated Cynthia and her father's constant nagging, it was nice to know she had moral support. "Thanks, but no thanks. Eventually I'm going to have to do this on my own, anyway."

Once out in the parking lot, Cynthia went the opposite way to her ugly brown Toyota. Lisa began the long trek out to her own car. Sure enough, as soon as she started walking, her stomach decided to do the hokey-pokey and her heart pounded out the rhythm. You're fine, she told herself firmly, shaking her head hard. You're in a public place. Scream and people will hear you. That was the only thing that kept her going.

Lisa began shuffling through papers on her way to the car. It was dark enough that she couldn't see anything written on the pages, but it kept her mind from playing tricks on her. When she finally reached the car, she saw something that made everything inside of her scream.

"Shut up," said the man in the suit, leaned up against the driver's side of her car, blue eyes examining her. "Shut up, Leese."

Her body stopped everything it was doing. Her heart seemed to be the only thing inside of her still working, but brain and leg power seemed to desert her. Her stomach was no longer doing the hokey-pokey; it wasn't doing much of anything.

"And I'll take this," he said, taking a step towards her and snatched her purse and keys out of her numb, horrified hands. "You won't be needing it, not for a very long time."

"What do you want?" she managed weakly.

"I told you on the plane. To steal you." He smiled, lips closed. His smile didn't reach his eyes.

Her body seemed to remember she had a stomach all at once. Her brain and the rest of her body prepared her for what would come next. She vomited in a patch of cement right next to her. Her legs started to shake and she fell to the ground.

"Get up," he snapped, grabbing her hard around her elbow. "We don't have time for this."

Pain shot up and down her arm as he yanked her upwards. Her legs didn't want to follow. Her mind was telling her to make herself as heavy as possible, and she resisted.

"Leese, stop being stupid." At this, he forced her all the way up and walked her towards his own car. Although the limp she'd noticed on the first day of hearings wasn't as pronounced as it had been then, it was still there. So that was his weakness. The trick would be to injure his leg again...

"I'll scream again," she threatened as he fumbled around for his keys. Go figure... she'd taken care to have her own keys ready and now Jackson couldn't find his. The irony would have made her laugh if it had been happening to someone else.

"Now, Lisa, you must know me well enough to know that's not a good idea. I can be reasonable, but you have to cooperate." He found his keys and reached over to the passenger side of the car. He snatched something in his hand and pointed it at her. "You see this, Leese? It's a gun. I wouldn't scream if I were you. Get in."

Miserably, she did as she was told. He pointed with the gun to where she sat trembling in the backseat. "Buckle up. All we need is for me to get pulled over for your stupidity." He shoved the thing in the glove compartment.

Lisa could hardly pull the strap down she was shaking so hard. Pull yourself together, she told herself firmly. You're being kidnapped by a half crazy man with a limp who's now breathing heavily because you shoved a pen through his throat. She managed to buckle herself in and watched as he slid gracefully into the seat in front of her.

"You'll notice I prepared myself this time," he said, pushing a button on his side that made all the locks go down. "I figured you'd try to escape, even in a moving car, so I invested in a car with child safety locks. And I removed any sharp objects from the backseat so you can't try any of your tricks. I think what got me last time," he said, turning the key and starting the car, "was carelessness. I underestimated you, you know. I thought you were just another dumb victim, and here you go, outsmarting me completely. Nothing I couldn't have fixed if I hadn't been paying attention."

She was vaguely aware of him talking as she began to think to herself. How was she going to get out of this? She couldn't get out of the car, not until he let her out. And Jackson was right-- he'd removed anything that would even remotely give her a chance of having the upper hand. Lisa began to panic. She had to find a way out of this. She even tried pinching herself-- this kind of thing only happened in nightmares. No, she thought, feeling her arm throb, this was real.

"Did you hear what I said?" Jackson asked, in a voice so testy Lisa knew this wasn't the first time he'd asked her that.

"What?" she responded, trying to sound brave but failing miserably.

"When were you the most afraid you've ever been?"

"I was nine," Lisa lied effortlessly. "My next door neighbor dared me to climb the tall tree in the park. Our parents were all off doing something else, I don't remember what. I climbed too high and couldn't get back down, so he ran off to tell them. He didn't come back for a long time and I thought I'd be up there forever."

Jackson lurched the car violently and Lisa gasped, holding on to the arm rest. "That's a lie," he snapped. "We both know the time you were the most afraid, and that wasn't it."

"Are you trying to kill both of us?" she said, and this time her voice came out stronger. It was the opposite of weak; it was hysteria.

"No," he said darkly.

"Then what's your point?"

"I just want to prepare you, Leese. Because the fear you've already experienced won't be anything compared to what's in store over the next few days."

"What are you talking about?" Her stomach flip-flopped. Her mouth had gone completely dry and she recognized the feeling as adrenaline.

"Remember your prime witness? Rebecca, I think her name is? Turns out that not only did she figure out what happened on the plane, but her father is the vice presidential candidate for Bob Killmore. Something interesting came up. He thinks the justice system let me go too easily. And wants it to be easier for good people like you to prosecute bad people like me. And guess who's staying at your hotel tomorrow?"

"Rebecca's father?" Lisa asked, numbly. She did remember the president and his election staff staying there as they campaigned in Florida, now that she thought about it. Oh, God. She didn't even remember feeling this numb, this hopeless, on the plane.

"The whole family," corrected Jackson as he stopped at a traffic light. "Won't that be fun, Leese?" He turned around to face her and smiled coldly again.