Chapter 15
Fifteen
A dim shaft of sunlight pierced through her eyelids, and Aubrey grimaced.
She opened her eyes a sliver, only to be greeted by more pain with the light. Bile rose in her throat, and she licked her dry lips, the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. Her shoulder hurt from where she lay on the floor. She had to sit up, try to remove the ropes binding her wrists.
Think, Aubrey.
She inhaled slowly through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, trying to keep the nausea at bay. The old wooden floor was covered with dust, dead leaves, and other debris from the forest.
Using the wood beams of the wall and her good foot, she pushed herself up into a seated position, assessing her situation.
She heard voices through the door—one with Finn Donovan’s dark tone, and the other man sounded familiar too.
“How long do you think she’s gonna be asleep?” Finn asked.
The other man said, “I told you to be careful, not to hit her too hard. I told you to use the sedative.”
Finn swore. “And I told you, I didn’t have enough time. I caught the marshal in a blind spot and put him down. I shoved her through the window. Dead weight.”
The sound of twigs breaking under their feet grew closer. Should she stay upright or pretend to be asleep? Their conversation paused, and Aubrey slowly lowered herself to the floor again.
Footsteps clomped across a porch or boards, wherever they were located. A few bird trills broke the silence. No traffic. No cars. Nothing.
They had to be back in the woods. But where? And if she was isolated with these two…
She closed her eyes as the door slammed open, and forced herself to slow her breathing. She hated to think what they’d do to her if they found out she was awake.
“Look, Rousseau, I helped you out, now help me out. The cops are lookin’ for me all over. Do I need to remind you that I took out the judge for you after you screwed up and killed the housekeeper? You owe me. So after I make her suffer for what she did to me, you’re gonna help me leave town.”
Aubrey inhaled sharply, and Finn kicked her injured foot. Pain shot up her ankle and shin, and she winced, reluctantly opening her eyes.
“Well, well, well.” Finn squatted in front of her, wrists resting on his knees. “Looks like the sleeping princess has awakened.”
She watched as he took a stray strand of her hair and rubbed it between his dirty fingers.
“So soft.”
Help me, Lord. She closed her eyes and swallowed back her fear. “What are you going to do with me?” She tried to sound brave, but her words were a weak whimper.
“Now, that depends.” Finn stood.
“On what?” Aubrey watched him pace, wondering if Finn was in charge or if Rousseau was the boss here.
“On whether or not you tell us what you know about the judge,” Rousseau said. “Why else do you think Donovan hasn’t killed you yet?”
If she kept her head down, all she could see were the fancy Italian loafers that Rousseau wore and Donovan’s scuffed biker boots.
She bit her lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do.” Now it was Rousseau’s turn. She’d seen him in town. He even sponsored Renegade Days. His eyes were blocks of ice, his expression hard. “After all, you and the judge were, how shall I say it? Close?” His gaze traced to the top button of her blouse. “Pillow talk, right?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t.” Rousseau’s laugh was condescending. “If you don’t tell us where the judge kept the information on the syndicate, I’m gonna leave and let Finn do whatever he wants with you. Tell me and I’ll kill you quickly.”
“No, please.” Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara Desert, the words raspy, scraping against her throat.
Ethan, where are you? Please, God, help him find me.
“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer.” Where had that Bible verse come from? Right. All those years ago, when Mom had made Aubrey and her sisters memorize a verse a week.
I trust You, Lord. She inhaled and began to pray.
Donovan grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh as he yanked her upright. “You better tell us the truth.”
He squeezed harder, and she bit the inside of her cheek as he shoved her back against the wall, her head connecting. Stars swam in front of her, and her eyes watered from the impact.
She exhaled. “Just, let me catch my breath a moment. I need to think.”
She only prayed she could stall them a little bit longer, until Ethan found her. And if he didn’t? Well, she’d be with Jesus, and that was an outcome she could live with.
Because she wouldn’t be alone.
“Don’t hurt me.”
Ethan tossed his phone on his desk and leaned back in his chair. All that work for nothing.
The warehouse tip had gone nowhere. Hours burned, adrenaline wasted, the anticipated takedown collapsing into another dead end. False tips were part of the job—especially when there was a reward attached—but this one sat wrong.
Something was off.
A Post-it clung to his monitor in Aubrey’s loopy scrawl.
Back by two. Have a doctor’s appointment.
Ethan checked his watch.
Way after two. If she was running late, Stanton would’ve checked in. He was supposed to report every hour. It had been two hours since the last update.
Ethan pushed out of his chair and stepped into Liam’s office. “Have you heard from Aubrey or Stanton?”
Liam shook his head. “No. Montgomery and Glover are over at Rousseau’s place, asking mommy dearest a few questions.”
Ethan nodded, but the unease didn’t lift. He drifted back to Aubrey’s desk, straightened a stack of files, busywork. He had to stay focused on Donovan. But where was she? Back at the safe house? He could call Jenna or the medical center. Find out when she’d left there.
Ethan dialed Jenna’s number. “Hey, have you heard from Aubrey?”
“The woman you’re supposed to be protecting?” Jenna asked. “That Aubrey?”
“One of the deputies took her to see her doctor. Have you heard from her?”
“Fine. She called me when she arrived at the doctor’s office. Said Deputy Marshal Stanton was with her. I haven’t heard from her since then.”
“Call if you hear from her, okay?”
He went back to where Emma sat at Aubrey’s desk. “Hey, where’s Supervisor—”
She had the desk phone to her ear. “Yes, thank you.”
Emma lowered the phone, her face pale.
“What is it?” Ethan’s stomach churned.
“Police officers responded to a scene at the medical center. Aubrey’s doctor’s office. Stanton was found hit over the head, and EMTs have taken him to the hospital.” She swallowed. “It doesn’t look good.” She took a deep breath, then added, “And no one can find Aubrey.”
Ethan flinched. It had to be Donovan. Donovan had attacked Stanton.
And Aubrey was gone.