Chapter 14
Jensen
The drive back to Tilikum was frustratingly slow. Snow fell steadily and traffic moved at a glacial pace.
I tried ringing Natalie one more time. Still no answer. Tempting as it was to keep calling, a dozen missed calls from me would send the wrong message. I wasn’t stalking her. I was simply concerned.
Finally, I turned past the Welcome to Tilikum sign. Snow clung to it, making it largely unreadable, but the large Christmas squirrel still beamed his odd greeting at the passing cars.
The town was rather idyllic, decked out for Christmas and covered in snow. I passed snowmen being built in the park and the large tree sparkled with lights.
But where was Natalie?
Tension rippled through me as I made it to her street. I pulled up to her house and didn’t see her car. Did she park in the garage? She hadn’t before, but maybe she’d done so to get it out of the snow.
I parked and got out, heedless of the new-fallen snow on the walk up to the front door. I knocked, then stepped back and waited.
No answer.
I knocked again, harder. Still nothing. It was a weekday, which probably meant school for Annabel, and I assumed Natalie’s sister would be at work. But where would Natalie be?
Turning, I was about to return to my car—if I had to drive all over town, I was going to find her—when a thought hit me. What if Julian was behind the heist, and I hadn’t imagined his look of recognition? Everyone in that room, including him, had seen me with Natalie.
Had he done something to her?
Fuck.
After a glance around, I pulled a lock-picking tool out of my wallet. Standard issue. It only took me a second to unlock the door. I eased it open and went inside.
“Natalie?”
All was quiet. Small shoes and, child-size socks, and gloves were scattered around the entryway. I took a few steps inside and came upon what looked like signs of a struggle. A box of Christmas ornaments had been knocked over and lights trailed over the coffee table and onto the floor.
“Natalie, are you home?”
Still no answer, so I rushed around the house. A chair was tipped over in the dining room and a collection of gingerbread family pillows seemed to have been thrown down the stairs.
What had happened there?
I raced upstairs, but the bedrooms and bathrooms were empty. No sign of Natalie or her family. The little girl’s room looked like a fight had broken out. Discarded clothes and toys were everywhere.
Bloody hell, had he gotten to all of them?
Another stairway off the kitchen led to a finished basement. Large fans hummed loudly, but it was empty.
Trying to stay calm and think it through, I returned to my car. She could have been out running errands or doing whatever she usually did when she wasn’t at work. I needed to eliminate the other obvious possibilities.
Work. She’d said they were on strike, but that could mean a picket line. I brought up the hospital on my GPS and headed across town.
It was easy to find—as hospitals generally are—and sure enough, a small group of men and women bundled up against the cold stood outside, holding up signs. I slowed as I approached, narrowing my eyes as I looked for Natalie.
I didn’t see her, so I stopped and lowered the passenger side window. A woman in a red-and-green stocking cap leaned closer.
“Hi,” she said. “If you’re looking for the emergency department, it’s open. Just follow the signs.”
“Actually, I’m looking for Natalie Thatcher. Do you know her?”
“Yeah, of course I know Natalie. But I haven’t seen her today.”
“Could she have been here earlier?”
“I don’t know.” She straightened and tapped the person next to her. “Have you seen Natalie?”
He shook his head, and the first woman leaned down again. “I thought she was coming today, but I don’t think she’s been here yet.”
“Thank you.” I gave her a polite nod and raised the window.
Fuck. Again.
I kept going and headed back toward town. If I had to circle through every street, I was going to find her.
My sense of panic rising, I rang Maple.
“Go ahead,” she answered.
“I can’t find Natalie.”
“Your asset?”
I bit back a sharp reply. She wasn’t just a fucking asset. “I’m back in town, but I don’t know where she is.”
“Is there a reason to be concerned?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice vehement. “I left her a bloody note instead of saying goodbye. What if I hurt her feelings?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
I knew I wasn’t making sense, but it was too late for that. Somewhere along the way, I’d lost my damn mind. Recalibrating, I offered Maple something more relevant to her helping me find Natalie. “We encountered a possible suspect last night. He might have done something to her.”
“That makes more sense than hurt feelings. Who is he, and why do you think he took her?”
“Julian Myers. And fuck if I know. I don’t know what game he’s playing.”
“Jensen, I’m not hearing a lot of rationality in your voice at the moment. Are you ill?”
I growled in frustration. “No. I just need to find her.”
“All right. I assume you checked her house.”
“She wasn’t there. And it was a mess. Signs of struggle everywhere.”
“Okay. Is she at work?”
“She’s a nurse, and they’re on strike. I just checked the picket line.”
“Do you know anything else about her schedule or routine?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Not really.”
“Did you call the hospital?”
“I told you, she’s on strike.”
“No. To see if she’s a patient. If something happened to her, she could be there.”
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I glanced around. I was the only vehicle in sight, so I did a U-turn in the middle of the street. My tires slid as I went around, but I managed to straighten out. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“I’m not really sure what you’re thinking.”
“I’ll update you later.” Without waiting for Maple to reply, I ended the call.
Following the signs to the emergency department, I passed the picket line again—searching for her among her coworkers one more time—and parked outside. Snow kept falling as I got out, and I held the lapels of my coat together as I ran inside.
A woman in blue scrubs looked up from the front desk as I approached. “Do you need to be seen?”
“Is Natalie Thatcher here?”
“Are you a family member or friend?”
“Friend.”
“I can’t give out any specific medical information, but she is here being treated, yes.”
I put a hand on my chest. A mix of relief and renewed alarm filled me. “I need to see her.”
“Just give me a minute. I’ll find out if she can have visitors.” She stood and disappeared into the back.
I paced around the waiting room, clenching my fists, rage burning hot in my veins. What had he done to her? I’d make him pay. I was going to tear him limb from limb.
He had no idea who he was messing with.
“Sir?” The woman was back. She pushed a clipboard across the counter. “If you’ll sign in here, I can take you to see her.”
Grumbling at the delay, I signed in. She disappeared again, and a moment later, a large automatic door swung open, and she gestured for me to come through.
My heart raced, my body thrumming with urgency. The woman brought me to a room, and I braced myself for the worst. What would I find behind that curtain? Bruises? Broken bones? Was she conscious?
I was going to fucking kill him.
When I stepped around the curtain, relief almost made my legs buckle. Natalie was there, sitting up in bed—alive.
And then she did the most remarkable thing. She smiled at me. And my heart cracked wide open in my chest.