Page 36

Riley

“ W hat do you mean she’s gone? ” I demand, fear clawing its way through my insides. Sampson drove me back to the house himself after a call to Tucker revealed that Jules had stepped out of the room for a second and not come back.

The house is empty.

The grounds too.

And I don’t know how to explain it, but I know we’re running out of time.

“I’m searching,” Tucker says as he moves his mouse around and continues scouring video footage of the exterior of the house.

He’d placed a few extra cameras when he arrived here, but there’s so much to cover that I imagine there’s at least one blind spot.

I can only hope whoever took her didn’t know where it was.

I’m going to tear them apart. I clench my hands into fists.

“Here.” Tucker points to the computer. Beckett, Sampson, and I all come around behind him to stare at the screen as we catch a brief glimpse of Jules as she rushes around the corner of the house. Her expression is determined, but not fearful.

She left on her own.

“Find her,” I tell Tucker. “Whatever you have to do, find her.”

“I’ll put out an APB,” Sampson says.

“Good. Finally, you’re doing something.” Beckett rolls her eyes. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t arrested Riley in the first place.”

Sampson glares at her then steps away.

“Where could she be going?” Beckett asks. “Her brother is dead; you were in jail. What could have possibly motivated her to leave the house?”

And then the realization slams into me.

Jules is the self-sacrificing type. She would gladly trade her life or comfort for someone else. Which is exactly what would have driven her out of the house.

“She went to Dodger,” I say, the words vile on my tongue.

“Why would she do that?” Tucker asks.

“Because she knows he’s behind it, and she thinks she can get him to let me go.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t intend to wait around and find out.” Rushing upstairs to my room, I retrieve my go bag from the corner, along with the tactical vest hanging in my closet. As I’m slipping it over my chest, I note that my Bible is not where I left it.

It’s sitting on the bed, open to Mark 4.

“When Jesus woke up, he rebuked the wind and said to the waves, ‘Silence! Be still!’ Suddenly, the wind stopped, and there was a great calm. Then he asked them, ‘Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?’”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I imagine the fear His disciples must have felt as the waves threatened to capsize their boat. Yet, He was there, able to calm the storm. I clench my hand into a fist and press it to my chest.

“Lord, be with me now. Calm the storm in my chest and help me find her, God. Please let me get there in time.” Tears burn in my eyes as I picture the way she looked, standing on the porch as I was driven away.

She’d looked scared.

Alone.

And now she’s likely both.

Not for long. I take a deep breath and turn away from the bed. “I’m coming, Jules.”

By the time I’ve made it downstairs, Tucker is dressed in his tactical gear. Beckett is far more casual than I’ve ever seen her, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt.

“Ready?”

“I have a team prepped too,” Sampson offers. “They’ll meet us there but won’t move in without our signal.”

I nod at him and kneel to slip Romeo’s harness over him. I’ve prepped for a fight more times than I can count. I’ve walked into enemy territory without so much as breaking a sweat because I knew that I wasn’t walking alone.

And even though I know that still, feeling unsure what I’ll walk into now is a terrifying thought.

Crippling, if I let it sink in.

Straightening, I keep Romeo’s leash in hand. “Let’s go.”

Dodger buzzes Sampson in without so much as a single question as to why. As we head up the drive to the estate, I look for any sign of Jules, though I’m not entirely sure what would even be out here.

We make it to the front, and I jump out, Romeo beside me.

Beckett, who’d insisted on riding along, gets out of the front passenger seat while Sampson climbs out of the driver’s side. Tucker, who’s been silent most of the afternoon, gets out opposite of me.

We’re ready for war, and the team Sampson called is just outside the gate, prepared to move in the second he calls.

We’ve just made it up the front steps when Dodger pulls open the door. One look at me and Tucker, and his expression falters. “You brought a murderer to my house?” he asks. “That man killed my friend. Your friend.”

“Odie Landers was my employer, not my friend. As for Riley Hunt, he’s been cleared on all charges,” Sampson tells him. “But I’m afraid I have some questions for you, Dr. Dodger.” He withdraws his badge and shows it to Dodger, who pales slightly.

“You’re a cop?”

“I am. Detective Sampson,” he says, placing his badge back inside his pocket.

Dodger crosses his arms, a mask falling into place over his expression. “And just what questions do you have for me?”

“Can we talk inside?”

“ We can,” he says. “But I’m not allowing two fully armed men into my home when one of them was just picked up on murder charges.”

That’s it. What little control I’m maintaining slips, and I step forward, putting myself directly in front of the monster.

“Where is she?” I don’t have time for games. Not when Jules could be hurt, scared, or—worse. “Where is Jules?”

Dodger’s eyes widen slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Unless you want me to put you on the ground right now, you’ll tell me where she is.” I stare into his eyes, not even blinking, because I want to make certain he understands that it’s not an empty threat I’m throwing his way.

“I haven’t done anything to Jules Landers. That girl is troubled, and if something happened, it wasn’t me.”

I hold up a finger. “That’s one strike, Dodger. You have two more before not even the good detective here will be able to stop me.”

Dodger’s gaze shifts to the detective. “You’re an officer. This man is threatening me.”

“Answer his question. Have you seen Jules Landers today?”

The doctor glares at me. “No,” he sneers. “I haven’t seen Jules in years.”

“You mean since you kidnapped, raped, and assaulted her from the time she was sixteen until she escaped two years later?” I ask.

Dodger takes a step back, his gaze widening. He’s terrified—it’s etched into every line of his face. Good. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” I grip him by the front of his shirt. “If you hurt even a single strand of hair on her head, there is not a prison in this world that will hold me. Do you hear me? I will come for you.”

“I-I didn’t do anything! I haven’t seen Jules today! Emmaline said she showed up here earlier, but Helena sent Emmaline out for errands, and by the time she got back, they were both gone.”

“Your wife was here when she arrived?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I release his shirt, tossing him back a step, and then I turn to Tucker. “Then you don’t mind if we search the house.”

“Actually, I do.” He crosses his arms.

“Actually, I think I have enough for a warrant,” Sampson replies. “So it really doesn’t matter what he says; one phone call and we’ll have our permission.” He withdraws his cell phone.

“Media is going to love this story,” Beckett says as she grins and crosses her arms. “I can’t wait to see what the headlines will read.”

“Just go in,” Dodger snarls as he steps to the side. “But you’re not going to find anything.”

“Oh, I think we’ll find plenty,” I snap as I unclip Romeo’s leash then withdraw Jules’s T-shirt from where it was tucked into my back pocket. I let the dog smell it. “ Such, Romeo.” Search.

My dog instantly goes into work mode and moves into the house, nose to the ground. He rushes through the front door and into the living room. He sniffs the couch, then stops and looks at me, my sign that he found what he was looking for.

“She was here,” I tell them.

“ Voran, Romeo.” Go on. He begins searching again, and I follow as Sampson makes the call to his team so they can come in and help us cover more ground.

Romeo moves through the kitchen then stops at the back door and lets out a single bark. I open it, and he rushes outside. He moves quickly, clearly following her scent, but stops when we reach the still-open garage door.

Dodger’s car is parked beside an empty space.

“He lost the scent,” Tucker says. “Meaning it was Helena that took Jules.”

Fear chokes me like a vise around my throat. “And we have no idea where they are.”