Page 137 of Stolen Ones

Eighty-Three

Kim tapped her phone as they turned into the lane that led to the farmhouse at the end.

‘National speed limit, Bryant – step on it,’ she said.

He growled in response as he positioned the tyres either side of the grass column that had grown in the middle of the road. The increase in speed caught every pothole on the poorly maintained strip of tarmac that was more like a dirt road, but she didn’t mind being bounced from pillar to post. Every second counted.

Her heart rate had been steadily rising ever since they’d lost visual contact with Grace.

She was praying desperately that her colleagues had Butler and that there had been some kind of rural power cut in this neck of the woods.

‘Bryant, I swear, if you don’t—’

‘There’s bends, guv,’ he argued. ‘Trust me, I want to get that little girl safely home more than anyone, but who’s coming to get her if we get hit by something coming the other way?’

‘And anyone we might meet will be coming from the farmhouse, so feel free to speed it up a bit.’

He did as she asked.

‘Come on, Penn. Come on.’

As if on cue the phone rang, just as they approached the farmhouse.

A blue Jaguar XF was already parked.

‘Oh shit. He’s already here,’ she said by way of a greeting to Penn as she got out of the car.

‘He really isn’t,’ Penn said. ‘He’s here in his office. I’m looking right at him.’

‘What the…?’

Kim stopped speaking as everything she’d learned throughout the week stormed into her head. Removing Butler from the equation had cleared her mind like a sliding door to reveal the truth standing behind it. Everything fell into place as she finally understood who and what they were dealing with.

How the hell had she missed what had been staring her in the face all week?

‘Oh shit,’ she said again as she ran towards the door.

Eighty-Four

The door was flung open, and for a second Kim was disoriented by entering the physical area of a space she’d been watching virtually.

Surveying the scene before her, she had no time to waste. Adult hands were clamped around Grace’s throat.

She threw herself forward and grabbed the woman by the hair.

‘Loose her, Kate,’ Kim screamed as the lawyer’s hands released from around Grace’s neck.

They landed in a heap on the ground.

‘Or should I call you Melody?’ she asked, pinning the woman with her legs.

‘Get off me,’ Swift cried out, but Kim wasn’t going anywhere.

She turned to see Bryant comforting a coughing, spluttering Grace, who looked terrified, but she was alive.

‘It’s okay, Grace – we’ve got you now,’ he said gently.

Just another couple of minutes and they would have been too late.