Page 132 of Valor

“People keep saying that.” Fresh anger surges through my veins. “But I can’t believe it. I’m a cop. I should have known something was off. I should have insisted on walking her inside, then leaving. Or waited a few more minutes until I was sure she was safe.”

“You’re a cop, not a superhero,” Bradyn says. “You can’t see through walls or read the minds of others. And if you don’t start cutting yourself a break, you’re going to end up blind to what’s happening in front of your face. Stop being so angry at yourself, or you may miss the truth.”

I know he’s right. I need to let it go. If it were anyone else and this were any other case, I’d be telling them the same thing. But this isn’t anyone else—it’s Lani. And all I can think about is how terrified she must have been.

Was she waiting for me to come back as she fought?

Did she call out for me?

Bradyn steps forward and rests his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve always been a part of our family, Gibson. Don’t let this drive you crazy. You found her. You helped her get home.”

“God brought her home,” I tell him honestly. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Maybe, but He chose you to find her. And that means something.”

* * *

Two hours later,I’m standing in the cabin where Lani was held. The abandoned shack is situated in the very center of that 100-acre parcel, with only one road in and out. Every window is boarded, with only thin cracks between boards where the sunlight sneaks in.

A ragged couch covered in stains is the only seating in the main room. There’s a bathroom off of one area, and what likely used to be a bedroom, though now the floor has fallen in.

The entire place appears to be one gust of wind away from falling right over.

I’d seen the ditch Lani told me she’d crawled through. The storm drain she’d hidden in. Bradyn and the other brothers had looked over the place, then left before I called in backup. Less people, less questions to be asked.

As it stands, I was able to say the reason I came in was because I noticed the drain Lani had described and had probable cause to check the property.

Someone could still call me on it, but given I was voted into this office and the people of this town trust me, I doubt they will. And even if they did, I’d make the same choice again and again. Lani matters more to me than any badge or position ever will.

The crime scene unit is combing the cabin now, but I’m rooted in my spot, staring at the dingy room Lani was held in for nearly three days. It’s little more than a closet, barely large enough for the hospital bed she’d been tethered to.

Three of the four bindings are open, but the one that held her right wrist is secured still. Which is the same wrist that Lani claims came loose first.Thank You, God.I don’t even question it. Because there is no other explanation. He freed her. Just as Pastor Ford said, He was with her even as she was being held here.

There’s no light, no fan. No chance of airflow aside from the small sliver of light that peeks in from the bottom of the door. I’d shut myself in here briefly, just to put myself in Lani’s shoes in hopes I’d see something that would unlock everything.

All it did was push that fury to a full-blown inferno. How terrified was she? Emotion burns my throat. She’d feared the dark as a child, then was locked in it as an adult. Trapped like a sardine in a can.

Before I level this house out of anger alone, I shift my attention to the rest of the room. Therehasto be something here. Some clue that I’m missing. I cross over toward the IV pole beside the bed and inspect the bag of saline hanging from it.

The fact that hospital equipment keeps popping up here only angers me further. Is it possible Dr. Pierce has something to do with it? Or a nurse perhaps? Someone in the maintenance department?

We have our list of names, and even though we ran everyone through and found nothing, I know we have to have missed something. I did text Tucker though, so he could be aware and ensure she’s not left alone—not even for an instant.

There’s a bin of waste in the corner. Urine-soaked bedding and gowns that her abductor must have changed when she’d been unconscious.

I clench my hands into fists.

I’m going to tear this guy limb from limb. Even if it means I get hit with murder charges and lose everything. It’ll be worth it, to see the same fear reflected in his gaze as I saw in Lani’s when she woke this morning. As she must have felt every second in this glorified closet-turned-prison cell.

“The place is clean,” Bill Wilson, head of our crime scene unit, says as he comes out. “We pulled prints, but my money is on them all belonging to Lani. Every other inch of this place has been wiped. Whoever else was here even used shoe covers over their boots so we couldn’t pull a type.”

“Any way to trace the equipment?”

“Sure, but we won’t need to. Pine Creek Hospital is stamped on the underside of all of it.”

Suspicions confirmed, I turn to face him, crossing my arms. “So it’s someone with ties to the hospital.”

“That or a ghost who can get in and out with a truckload of equipment and not get seen.”