Insatiable (Steel Brothers Saga #12) - Helen Hardt Page 0,1

Colin had presumably been talking.

Nothing.

Fucking nothing.

Not even a dark-brown hair to indicate she’d been there.

“Damn it!” I said out loud.

“Hey.”

I turned. Ryan Steel and his wife stood next to me. Ryan’s eyes were heavy-lidded and troubled, and Ruby’s blue eyes held sadness as well, but she was a pro. She got straight to work, her hands gloved.

“You sure this was the bench where she met Colin?”

“I have no idea, but it’s the one closest to town, and I assumed she was in town when she called me. Reception is never great in this park.”

“I don’t think she was in town,” Ruby said. “If she were, someone would have seen something. This park is usually dead weekdays during working hours. I’m betting she was still here.”

Of course. That made sense. Why hadn’t Joe and I thought of it?

I exhaled.

Because we were fucked up in the head with worry and fear.

Ruby eyed everything, leaving nothing to chance. She got down on her hands and knees and regarded the grass under the bench, threaded her hands through the thin carpeting of blades. I watched every move she made, my insides knotted, hoping she’d come up with something.

She didn’t.

“Odd.” She shook her head. “Or not so odd. If we’re dealing with seasoned pros, they’d know not to leave clues. Or they’d leave blatant plants like they did outside the playground where Dale saw the stranger twice now.”

“Damn,” I said again. “Now what?”

“Now we look around. We ask questions. The cops are already downtown checking to see if anyone saw Marjorie. Do you have any idea where she might have gone in town?”

“She’s got a new trainer at the gym,” I said. “And she likes the smoothie place.”

“I’m going to go ask some questions in town, then,” Ruby said. “You two can come along if you want.”

“I’ll go with you.” Ryan took her hand.

I felt like I was being tugged in two different directions. “I’ll stay with Joe,” I finally said. After all, Ryan loved Marj as much as Joe did, and he and Ruby didn’t need me breathing down their necks.

Joe finished talking to the cops and returned to me. “Anything?”

“Ruby didn’t see any clues. She and Ryan headed into town to see if anyone saw Marj or Colin there. Did you uncover Colin’s number?”

“Yeah. I got it, but he’s not answering.”

“Of course he isn’t,” I said. “Either he has Marj—”

“I honestly don’t think so,” Joe interjected.

“I don’t either. Which makes me think whoever has Marj also has Colin.” I shook my head. “This has my father’s stench all over it.”

“Your father is dead, Bryce. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“I know. But he’s haunting us. In the form of Ted Morse.”

Chapter Two

Marjorie

Darkness all around me.

Movement too. Jiggling movement.

And nausea.

Overwhelming nausea.

Then…the fear set in.

A scream rose in my throat, tearing through my vocal cords, and then…

Nothing. Nothing but suppressed gagging.

I was gagged. My mouth had been taped shut.

The nausea again, bile creeping up my throat like clawing acid.

I attempted a swallow.

I couldn’t puke. If I puked, I’d suffocate.

Though I had no frame of reference, I sensed I wasn’t alone. Someone else was with me. The presence of another body.

Fear. Dark fear. Panic.

God, the panic!

Marjorie, calm down. If you panic and throw up, you’ll die.

No, I would not die. Not when I had so much to live for now. My family, including my new niece or nephew growing in my best friend.

Dale and Donny.

My brothers and sisters-in-law.

Henry and Evelyn.

And Bryce.

My wonderful Bryce.

A low groan vibrated next to me. I felt it more than heard it. It could have come from an animal, but if an animal were trapped with me, it would be moving in chaos. Maybe it was drugged.

No, not an animal. I felt sure of it. A person. A person was here with me.

I moved against whatever bound me. Though I couldn’t see, I felt my wrists tied together in front of me. Also my ankles.

I breathed in deeply through my nose.

Air! Need air!

Calm down. Calm down. Don’t panic, or you’ll fucking die!

I was enclosed, so I needed to conserve air. If I panicked, I’d use more.

I wasn’t claustrophobic.

But I also didn’t know where the hell I was.

Once, in college, Jade and I had gone to a sensory-deprivation tank before finals. The advertisement had said that forty-five minutes in the tank was equal to five hours of sleep.

We were closed in, couldn’t move.

And I’d never been more relaxed.

I closed my eyes against the darkness, trying to force my mind to go back