Road Tripped (Satan's Devils MC Utah #1) - Manda Mellett Page 0,87

aids I noticed before.

“Who?” My question is terse. This is too much for me to process. That Swift, so strong and self-reliant, has been taken seems unbelievable. The thought I might never see her again, unbearable.

“That’s what Pip and the others are trying to find out. Come on, let’s look for clues. But tread carefully. This place could be a fuckin’ death trap.”

“You think someone wants to take us out?” I glance around. My eyes, while not trained in the same way as the others, are still perfectly capable of looking for trip wires. I inch forward, my feet gingerly touching the floorboards, checking in case one might be loose.

“Could be.” Snatcher’s proceeding with equal care. “They know we’ll come to the scene of the crime, so yeah, if they wanted to take a bunch of us out, this place could be primed to blow.”

“Have you been here before?” I wonder if he knows the layout.

“Yeah. When we installed the equipment.”

“You think it’s anything to do with a case?”

For a reply, Snatcher makes the motion of zipping his mouth.

I take the hint. As well as taking Swift, whoever’s got her may have left something behind—a camera or a bug.

Slowly, too fucking slowly, we search the room where Swift sleeps. My eyes keep being drawn to Swift’s hearing aids left by the side of the bed. Christ. I’m not sure why, but seeing Snatcher is ignoring them, I pocket the small devices and put them into the pocket of my jeans. I’m determined we’ll find her, and when we do, they’ll be the first things she’ll want. She’s strong, capable of resisting the most severe torture methods, but even so, it must be terrifying not to be able to hear. It’s her literal nightmare come true.

Why did I get so drunk last night? As I watch Snatcher expertly searching for any small clue, I feel guilt settle on me that maybe I had chased her from the clubhouse last night. I vaguely recall people making comments about my idiotic approaches to her. Had she removed herself from the situation, rather than disabling me? Had I not come on to her, she might have stayed surrounded by people who’d keep her safe.

Something on the floor catches my eye. “I got blood.” Once again, I feel chilled.

“Yeah, man, you on your way? We got blood.” Snatcher’s touching his ear again and speaking to someone who’s not in the room.

“More here.” I notice what looks like a bloody smear on the door.

“Two samples. Yeah. See you soon.”

He sees my raised eyebrow and explains, “Honor’s on his way. He can collect blood samples and dust for prints.”

“He can?”

“Yeah, he’s an ex-cop. Both he and Duty got out a few years back. Got fed up with all the crap they saw going on. You didn’t know that?”

I shake my head. “Why isn’t one of them here now?” It seems like we’re wasting time.

“Honor went back to collect his shit. He’ll be here soon, and Duty’s best used behind a computer. Whoever did this, it was carefully planned, and may have left some kind of digital footprint. We’re here to look for any message left—something to give us a clue who they could be or why they’ve taken her.”

There’s clearly so much I don’t know about how they do things. I glance around again, looking for anything obvious or not that might help us find Swift. There’s nothing that jumps out. I turn around, trying to see if I’ve missed something, but notice Snatcher looking equally puzzled.

“Would you expect to find something?” I query, feeling out of my depth. Knowing part of my helplessness is that this isn’t some stranger whose disappearance we’re investigating, this is Swift. A woman who seems to mean more to me than I care to admit, and which I hadn’t allowed myself to acknowledge until she went missing.

He shakes his head. “No, but the fact we haven’t suggests this was planned and carried out by people who know what they’re doing. All we’ve got are those splotches of blood, and they could have come from Swift herself.”

That’s what’s worrying me. Is she hurt? I’m assuming she is, so the real question should be, how bad? Is she even alive? My heart speeds up, then I tell myself, If they’ve killed her, why take her body? Surely if that’s their purpose, they’d have left her here for us to find. Next, I wonder whether the people who’ve taken her know who she is.