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We each agree with a nod and split up. Kellan goes into the building, his phone already burning hot as he starts making calls to his deputies for the appropriate measures. We need to pinpoint where Avery’s car is. If she has run off, then she is in danger—no doubt Daniel will be going after her. We knew this might happen, but we’d hoped we could talk some sense into her before it did.
I thought we’d managed to persuade Avery to stick around a little bit longer since she is much safer with us than out there on her own. But dammit, that woman is too stubborn for her own good.
The ghost pain in my leg has returned. It only happens when the stress is at an all-time high, when I am overwhelmed and unable to control the situation. I always try to appear like I have it together, but there are moments when I feel as though I may unravel and fall apart, unable to ever put myself back into a single piece again. This is one such moment, as the thought of losing Avery and the girls forever fries my circuits and has me spinning out of control.
I catch a glimpse of Fallon rummaging through an orange bin outside the dry cleaners just before I turn the corner and make my way around the school building. There are plenty of cars parked on this particular side street, so I need to focus on finding the sedan that Smith and Paxton checked out this morning for today’s shift.
Another turn, and I’m behind the school’s private property. The whole perimeter is fenced and guarded with security cameras, but I don’t need access to any of them just yet. To my dismay, I find the car wedged between an old, brown pickup truck and a green minivan. The license plates match to the sedan they had checked out for their shift—it’s a Wolfhound Security vehicle.
I rush over and check the front seat first. The driver and the passenger seats are empty, but there is blood splattered across the inside of the passenger door. My stomach churns as I use my computerized skeleton key to unlock the vehicle and check the backseat, since the windows are smudged and frozen. This car has been unattended for a while.
“Fuck!” I yell as I see Paxton and Smith’s bodies thrown one on top of the other in the backseat, blood pooled and congealed along the leather and over the floormats. “Shit, shit… SHIT!” I snarl as I quickly proceed to turn Smith over.
Their ID badges are gone. Their guns and phones are gone, too. The killer didn’t bother to take their wallets, though.
By the time Fallon and Kellan catch up with me, I’m shaking and making calls, alerting the entire security company that we’ve lost two agents and that Daniel Madison may have gotten his hands on Avery and her daughters. It takes the Cassidy twins about a minute to take the whole picture in, but once they do, I watch their demeanors shift from worried men to armed and determined machines. I’m fearful for Fallon the most. He’s darker than ever, quiet, as he hands over Avery’s dismantled phone. “I found it in the bin outside the dry cleaners,” he says, his tone flat and cold.
“He has her,” Kellan concludes, the pain in his voice cutting through my own heart.
There is no doubt in my mind that Daniel has Avery and the girls. The best explanation is that he posed as Smith when he entered the school. From what we’ve seen of Daniel throughout our investigation—photos that Avery has given us, IDs—he resembles Smith in stature and facial features, enough to pass as the agent with a brief flash of his badge. The fact that he had the audacity to use Smith’s badge, to leave a mockery of Smith’s signature on the sign-in register after he brutally killed him, is nothing short of sociopathic. He walked out with Annie and Miley, then waited until Avery arrived to make his move.
We don’t know whether he took her from outside the dry cleaners or lured her to another location, but I am willing to bet that the last call that Avery got before her phone was discarded came from that fucker. Daniel is holding one too many cards here.
“What the fuck do we do?” I hear myself asking, almost shouting the question.
“We find her,” Kellan promptly replies, his jaw tight and tense. “We’re not out of options yet.”
I can see from Fallon’s expression that finding Avery may not be everything we’ll end up doing tonight. My worst nightmare has come true. That one possibility I’d thought we could avoid. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t fall for this woman, especially since I understood from day one that she could leave our lives as quickly as she entered them.
My honor demands that I do something, my heart won’t let me walk away.
No matter what, we’re getting Avery back.
25
Avery
My head hurts.
I slowly open my eyes and try to keep my breath even as I take in my surroundings. I don’t recognize this place—where am I? Then I remember, I’m at the apartment in that dreadful, abandoned building. Oh God, Daniel came out and punched me. Where are my girls?
Suddenly I realize I’m not at the apartment anymore. This looks like some sort of cabin.
The walls are made of wood—horizontal logs and old windows with cracked glass and enough dirt on them to inform me that no one has been here in a long time. Figures. Daniel found the perfect hiding spot, judging by the pine trees lining the view outside. There’s tons of snow and not a single sound of traffic or civilization. I’m out in the woods, somewhere far enough from North Platte to make me understand precisely the depth of shit in which I’m stuck.
“No…” I moan as I realize that my hands are tied to the back of an old chair. The plastic cable ties cut into my skin, sending waves of pain shooting up my arms.
My back hurts and I can’t move my legs. My ankles are also bound but with a thick length of rope. Painful heat persists in my cheek, and I can barely see through my left eye. It must be swollen. That blow really knocked my lights out. I could have a concussion or worse, but I’m not sure it matters anymore. I look around again.
I’m in a living room with an open-plan kitchen. There’s an inch of dust and grime everywhere. The sofa is covered with an ancient-looking blanket and there are tin mugs abandoned on the coffee table. A pair of battered boots have been left by the door, a pack of cigarettes abandoned next to an ashtray on the counter separating the kitchen from the living area. Spiders casually hang from their intricate webs drawn across the brick fireplace. I can see a mound of ash resting at the bottom.
There is no way anyone has actually been living here though I can’t help but wonder if Daniel has been spending his nights here. It’s too cold without a fire so he would have had to of found one hell of a sleeping bag to survive the Nebraskan winter in this place.
Where are my girls?
“Annie! Miley!” I call out with a shaky voice.
“Momma!” I hear Miley cry from the room to my right, most likely a bedroom. My heart is racing, the blood pumping fiercely through my veins.
