Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Paige
“Claire Simmons, daughter of Senator Travis Simmons.” I put her picture up on the board. “Twenty years old, attends UCLA, last seen two days ago in the library. Go!” I pointed to my staff sitting around the office table.
“I hacked into her phone records and found several texts over the last two months to a number that was traced to a burner phone. They were planning to meet up. Cam footage showed her leaving the library at nine p.m., and then someone wiped the rest of the footage,” my tech guy, Logan said.
“I want you two to go and talk to her roommate and friends. See if she mentioned the guy's name she was texting. We have a small window here, people, so let’s move.”
A sickness suddenly erupted in my belly. Placing my hand over my mouth, I ran to the bathroom and hovered over the toilet. What the hell was going on?
“Boss, are you okay?” Christine stepped into the bathroom.
“Yeah. Probably something I ate,” I said, washing my hands.
“Or maybe you’re pregnant?” Her brow arched.
“You’re funny.” I pointed at her and walked out of the bathroom.
The Next Day
“This guy. Billy Haven. He’s currently on probation and works as a barista at the coffee shop Claire visited every day.
He was charged with aggravated assault of a college girl two years ago, when she turned him down for a date.
Claire’s friends told us he was always talking to Claire, asking her out, but she turned him down.
” I placed my hand on my belly for the sickness rose again.
“Excuse me for a moment.” I ran to the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” Logan asked when I stepped back into the office.
“I’m fine. Let’s go pay Billy Haven a little visit. Shall we?”
We quietly stepped onto the porch of the rundown house, with peeling paint and windows half-covered by yellowed curtains that didn’t quite close. The yard was a mess. Dead grass, rusted metal, weeds everywhere, and old tools scattered around.
I knocked on the door as a courtesy. No one answered.
Picking the lock, I quietly opened the door and stepped inside.
I pointed to the right, signaling for Logan to go that way, while I went left.
I moved through the house, weapon low and fully gripped.
I stopped when I heard a sound coming from upstairs.
Each stair creaked as I slowly moved up them.
Damn these old houses. I froze when I reached the top of the stairs and heard another sound.
The sound of someone trying to be very quiet but failing.
I assessed the layout. Two bedrooms. One bathroom.
All doors shut except for one. With my gun raised, I kicked in the door.
Billy Haven turned around, knife in hand, and before he could lunge at me, I fired, and the bullet hit his shoulder, slamming him back against the wall.
I ran toward him, grabbed him by his shirt, and slammed him down to the floor.
“You don’t move,” I said, my gun pressed to his head.
“I didn’t—I didn’t—”
“Where is she?” I shouted.
“I don’t—”
“Wrong answer.” I pressed the gun harder.
“My shoulder.” He screamed. “Please. I need medical attention.”
“The only medical attention you’re going to get is a body bag.
Wait no. That would be too easy. Because if you don’t tell me where Claire Simmons is, I’m going to throw you in the back of my trunk, tie a cement block to your foot, and toss you far out into the ocean so the sharks can have a feeding frenzy. ”
“Basement,” he choked. “She’s in the basement. I swear I didn’t—”
“Boss?” Logan stepped into the room.
“She’s in the basement,” I said. “Go.”
I pressed my knee into Billy’s shoulder. He screamed. Pulling out my phone, I called Simon.
“Paige, what’s up?”
“I got a guy here who is in violation of his probation.” I rattled off the address. “He’s going to need medical attention.”
“Jesus, Paige. I’m ten minutes out.”
I placed my phone in my pocket and jammed my knee harder into his shoulder.
“Fuck!” he screamed.
“Listen to me very carefully. You will confess to breaking your probation and to the kidnapping of Claire Simmons. You will plead guilty and refuse a trial. If you don’t, I have people on the inside who like to do what I ask them to. Understand me?”
He nodded.
“Repeat it,” I said, pressing the record button on my phone.
“I plead guilty to breaking my probation and kidnapping Senator Simmons’s daughter, Claire Simmons. I am guilty and refuse a trial.”
“I heard that,” Simon said, walking into the room and handcuffing Billy. The ambulance is on its way.”
“Listen, Simon. This can’t be made public. I promised the senator it would be kept out of the press.”
“He’ll talk, Paige.”
“No, he won’t. Will you, Billy?” I raised my brow.
“No. I won’t. I swear.”
I went downstairs and over to the couch where Claire was sitting with Logan.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No. But he was going to.”
“Do you need medical attention?” I asked.
“No. I just want to go home.”
After taking Claire home to be reunited with her parents, I drove to the drug store.
The moment I stepped inside, I scanned the signs above each aisle until I found what I was looking for.
I stood and stared at the row of boxes before me.
Pregnancy tests. Dozens of them. Different brands.
Different words were printed across the front like they meant something, which I suppose they did.
Early detection.
Fast results.
Over 99% accurate.
It was like I was assessing a target. But this was one target I couldn’t neutralize.
My eyes scanned the boxes again until I saw one that said “Results in 1 minute.” One minute to change everything.
I lifted my hand to grab the box and stopped.
This was ridiculous. I never hesitated. It wasn’t who I was.
I feared nothing. Hearthstone made sure of that.
Then why couldn’t I pick up a simple box on a store shelf?
A couple walked down the aisle and stopped a few feet away from me. I glanced over at the man and woman as he grabbed a box and handed it to her.
“This one should do.” He smiled.
“Maybe we should get a couple of them just to be sure.” She placed her hand on her belly.
My chest tightened as I grabbed a box and headed to the register.
I stood in the bathroom, the door half-closed, even though I was the only one home.
I opened the box, took out the instructions, and read them.
I removed the stick from the packaging as my fingers tightened around it.
I could control this moment, this part, before this little white stick controlled the outcome of my life.
After peeing on the stick, I set it on the counter and washed my hands.
Gripping the edge of the sink, I lifted my head and stared at myself in the mirror while my mind went crazy with dates, possibilities, and timing.
I glanced at my watch. Thirty seconds left.
It felt like eternity. I inhaled a deep breath and slowly let it out.
Time was up. Glancing at the stick, two pink lines appeared.
Not faint, not almost, but bold. There was no question about it. I was pregnant.