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Mothballs.
People kept clothes in mothballs.
She was in the closet, he knew it.
Grabbing hold of Tom as he started for the bathroom, he gestured at the closet. Tom’s eyes widened in understanding, and they both headed for the wardrobe.
Inside the closet looked normal, but at the end was a door. It looked like a safe room. The kind rich people sometimes built in their house so they could hide in it if anyone broke in.
Only, this safe room wasn't so safe.
Fin wondered if the irony of what he had done was lost on Pete.
As they approached, they saw light spilling out the open door. From inside they heard a grunt of pain, and he tried to run forward, only to be yanked back by Tom, who frowned at him.
Glaring back, he allowed the FBI agent to go first.
“Pete.”
The man looked up at them. He was on the floor, struggling to drag himself to his feet, using an examination table for support.
Chloe was on the table.
Her skin was paper pale, and pain was written all over her face.
They were too late.
Pete Larkin had already hurt her.
She turned toward them and relief washed over her.
“Put your hands on your head, Mr. Larkin,” Tom ordered.
The man ignored them and continued his struggle to stand but seemed to be having trouble controlling one of his legs, which kept giving out. Something had clearly happened to his leg, but Fin had no idea what. He did know that whatever it was, it had Chloe’s name written all over it.
His girl would never go down without a fight.
“I'm not done,” Pete Larkin muttered.
“Yes, you are,” Tom said firmly. “Put your hands on your head.”
It didn't look like Pete intended to go down without a fight.
Fin wanted to go running to Chloe. He might have if Tom wasn't blocking the doorway, preventing him from getting past. He could feel her pain as though it were his own. She was struggling to remain conscious, and it was killing him that he didn't know how badly she was hurt—that he couldn’t fix it.
He was a doctor; fixing people was what he did.
But he hadn’t been able to fix his son, and now he couldn’t fix Chloe.
“You're not walking out of this room except in handcuffs, Mr. Larkin. You are going to prison. You may as well just give yourself up now. Don’t make it worse.”
Pete stared at them.
It looked like he was contemplating doing as Tom had ordered him.
It wasn't like he had a lot of choices.
There was no way he was getting out of this.
