Mellie grins. “Oh yeah, don’t worry about that. Once my dad gets himself all wound up, all bets are off.”
“Really. I can’t picture that at all. He seems like such a calm person.” He was the perfect Southern host last night. I can’t imagine him cursing a blue streak.
“It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen,” Trudy agrees. “So what’s the plan? Do y’all even know where those little ones are being kept?”
I may have the team, but Mellie is the one who did the research. So, I take another bite of the muffin and let her answer her mom. I’m not sure how much she wants to share, so it’s safer if I let her take the lead.
Mellie refills her coffee and sits back down with it cradled between her hands. Her face is pale, but not as white as when she described the abuse we’d suffered. Neither one of us wants to think about it, because then it reminds us of what the missing girls are going through now. I’m sure Trudy is just as aware of how difficult this is and doesn’t rush her either.
“I was never going to tell you or daddy, but a few months back I was driving around looking for locations to add to my latest book, when I came upon a rundown house. It looked abandoned. Overgrown yard, peeling paint, weeds in the driveway, but then I noticed a newer car in the garage, and something just clicked into place like déjà vu, I guess? Except the longer I looked at it, the more I felt the urge to run away. I added the address in my phone and drove away. I looked it up when I got back home and after some digging I eventually found a photo of the owner. It was him—Master—the man who stole us from the playground all those years ago. But there was no way I’d ever forget his face.”
The little hairs rose on the back of my neck just thinking about how she must have felt when she saw his photo. I’m not sure what I would have done in her place. “That’s how you figured out who he is or was back then,” I murmur, but Mellie still hears me and nods.
She hadn’t told me that or the address where she thought the girls were being held, and I still haven’t asked. I guess I figured we’d just go there. But I should probably text it to Tony. Who knows? Maybe they could find more information, even enough to get the locals involved. If they’d done their job properly back then, maybe they could have caught the asshole.
“Oh, baby girl, you should have come to us.” Trudy rushes over and pulls Mellie into a tight hug. Her eyes, filled with pain and shining with tears, meet mine over Mellie’s head. I can’timagine how it would feel to have a daughter taken from you. Her suffering has to be close to ours.
Life will never be the same for me. Even if I can’t really remember any of it yet, it still happened. I’ll have to find a way to work through it—to recover my memories. Right now, it feels like my past is a lie. The childhood I thought I knew was really so much worse.
“It’s okay, Mom. You’ve dealt with enough because of this. I didn’t want to burden you with more. I’m a grown woman with the tools to help myself for find help if I need to.”
“I’m not saying you’re not, but still.” Trudy sniffs back tears as she returns to her chair.
“Anyway, so that’s how I know where he is or was. I think it was a sign, I know it’s woo-woo stuff, but I still believe there was a reason I found it after all these years,” Mellie says and shrugs her shoulders.
“I don’t usually believe in all that stuff, but I think you’re right. Can you give me the address? I want to text Tony and see if they can use their sources to dig up anything else on that house or what was his name?” I ask pointedly. She’s somehow avoided saying it, but I need to know.
Her gaze meets mine, and she pulls her shoulders back as if she needs to feel strong to even say it out loud. I almost think she’s going to tell me it doesn’t matter, but then she says the monster’s name. I don’t know what I thought would happen when I heard it. An epiphany, maybe? Instant recall of all my memories? But there was nothing. It was just his name, and it meant nothing to me, even though I knew he had changed my life in ways I couldn’t even comprehend.
“His name is Charles Harrison. There’s a second name on the tax records too—Rodney Harrison. I couldn’t find his connection to Charles, though.”
I nod without looking up, afraid to see the pain reflected in her eyes. Concentrating, I send this new information to Tony, carefully typing Harrison’s name and address into the text. “Maybe Evan, one of his team, can figure it out. He’s a tech genius.”
“Good. The more information we have before going in, the better.”
“Exactly,” I say, and hit send.
CHAPTER 11
TONY
We’re over an hour into the flight and still have nothing. Evan is doing his best, but with the limited information we have, it’s futile. Providence hasn’t given us much to work with, other than the name of the town—Woolridge, and the names of the little girls being held—Bethanne Davis and Georgina Baker.
Exhaustion weighs heavily on all of us, and I’m not sure how many cups of coffee I’ve downed, but I’m probably close to overdose levels. The rest of the team is in the same boat. After yesterday’s fiasco, then virtually no sleep, we’re running on fumes.
“We need more, Boss.” Evan is staring at me from behind his laptop screen.
His eyes look as bloodshot as mine feel. I should let the team rest since we’ve got nothing else to do. Continuing this search is a waste of their energy at this point.
“Can you check with Providence to see if she’s got anything else? We’re going to be walking in there blind.” It’s as close to begging as I’ve ever heard from the man.
“Yeah, I was actually just about to text her.”
I swear I hear a collective sigh of relief from the team as I pull my phone out and start typing. Before I can hit send, it buzzes in my hand. I’ve never seen so many eyes glued to my face as they are right now. It’s like we’re all hanging on with bated breath to see what she has to say. Because, of course, we just assume it’s going to be Providence, because that’s how the universe works.
Providence: Mellie just shared more info. The name of the original kidnapper was Charles Harrison. She found the house where they had kept us. After she looked up the tax records, she discovered Charles Harrison listed as the owner. There’s a co-owner—Rodney Harrison, but we couldn’t find any info on him. The address is 3627 Mockingbird Road, Woolridge. I’m hoping Evan can dig up something she couldn’t. Love you.
Me: This is great intel. How are you holding up, sweetheart? I can’t wait to have you in my arms.
