“Yes.” I drew the tarp back and put my hands against the passenger side window. When I opened the door. I could smell Jeremy. His scent. That bodywash he liked.
“Where is he?” Marni pulled the rest of the tarp off and let it fall to the floor. She stared at the closed trunk as she asked the question.
No, no, no.My mind begged for another answer. My heart shattered as those blocked thoughts about the worst things that could happen flooded my brain.
Jeremy drove an older-model sedan. It was sturdy and not fancy, so I believed, probably wrongly, it would be heavier and less likely to crumple in a crash. It still used a key to start it. I kept his extra on my chain. I pulled it out of my back jeans pocket, but I couldn’t take the next step. Dread froze me in place with the harsh truth that this could end in the worst possible way.
“What if...” I couldn’t even say the words.
Stella stepped in front of me and held out her hand. “Let me look.”
I stared at her fingers. Watched her put the key in the lock.
“Here!” Marni shouted from the far end of the wall of boxes.
She’d stepped into the front space of the tandem stalls. In the roomier, three-stall garage at the front and along the far wall. She ducked down. Disappeared from view.
I raced over to her. To the cordoned-off area where Patrick and Victoria’s gardener used to store lawn equipment. The makeshift walls stretched to the ceiling, but the sides of the structure were held together by wire and posts. A fence of sorts that was see-through in spots.
A lump covered by what looked like a dusty old outside furniture cover. A sneaker peeked out from the side.
“Jeremy!” I tore at the opening of the structure. Ripped skin and broke fingernails. My heart hammered as Marni and Stella pulled at the wood slats with me. Tugged at the lock that held the enclosure shut.
The wire bent. The decaying wood buckled. I slipped through a space where the sides scraped against my back and my stomach. Once inside the five-by-five pen, I dropped to my knees and tore the cover away.
Needles on the floor. What looked like vomit.
Jeremy with his body curled into a ball. Not moving. His dark hair plastered against his forehead with a smear of blood.
My hands shook as I reached for him and checked for a pulse.Please. Please.A steady thump. My body collapsed and I let the sobs come as I wrapped my body around his. A whoosh of relief knocked me forward.
“He’s alive.” I whispered the glorious words into his shoulder. “Alive.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Aubrey
One question answered. Just as I thought. Someone wanted me in the spotlight. Someone went in and out of my house to keep Jeremy drugged and docile.
Someone would pay.
I paced the hospital hall, staying at the end farthest from Jeremy’s room. Away from the policeman talking to the nurse nearby. The town likely didn’t have enough spare officers to station one at Daniela’s room and one at Jeremy’s room. Not if, as the news claimed, law enforcement had been mobilized to investigate the links among the finding of my father’s remains, the fire, and what looked like Jeremy’s disappearance.
Word was Jeremy survived his little stay at my house with minor injuries and a case of dehydration. He’d be going home soon, but the drugs he’d been given during his kidnapping—the word felt like an exaggeration but fine—needed to fully wear off first.
Jeremy had gotten lucky. Tanners rarely got lucky. Tanner males never did.
Hanna stepped out of Jeremy’s room. Her head turned as if she sensed me standing there. Her gaze met mine. She started screaming a second later. “Security! Police! Someone, help!”
Not that she was afraid of me. No, not Hanna. She sprinted down the hall to get to me.
“How dare you show up here!” she bellowed, clearly not caring who heard her. “Security!”
The police officer stopped his pathetic flirting with the nurse and radioed for help. He also sprinted after Hanna and failed to catch her.
I held up both hands. That meant surrender... or something close if television shows got the gesture correct. Whatever it took to calm her down. Same as everyone else in this town, Hanna had the wrong target. I didn’t have the patience to reason or tangle with her while she was in this mood.
“Hanna, stop—” She was on me before I got the rest of my warning out.
