Insatiable (Steel Brothers Saga #12) - Helen Hardt Page 0,21

Ryan said tersely.

“Come on, Ryan,” Ruby said. “She was your mother too. In every way that counts.”

Ryan didn’t respond, and I didn’t look into the back seat to see his reaction. None of my business. Plus, we had more important things to attend to.

“Let’s go,” Talon said. “We should split up. Ryan and Ruby, you go together. I’ll go with Bryce.”

“Makes sense,” Ruby said. “Everyone got their phones on?”

We all nodded. We had temporarily retired our normal phones and started using burner phones to stay in contact with each other. It had been sheer luck that Jade and Melanie were still using their original phones. Thank God. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have gotten the text from Colin.

Talon and I headed toward the first run-down trailer to the north of the truck, while Ryan and Ruby headed south.

Talon had his light on the dimmest setting. “I don’t see any tire tracks or anything around here. You want to go in and check it out?”

“I don’t think we should leave anything to chance,” I said. “What if someone walked back and covered the tracks?”

“It’s possible. All right. Let’s go in.”

I walked up the cracked concrete stoop and tried the door. It was locked, but I easily executed a side kick and knocked it in.

“Bryce,” Talon said. “That’s not exactly being quiet.”

“You got a better idea?”

He shook his head, and we both walked inside.

“Marjorie?” I yelled. No need to be quiet after kicking in a door. “Are you here?”

Nothing.

I followed Talon, who had the light, as we searched every inch of the unit.

Nothing.

On to the next one.

Nothing in the next four units, either.

Finally, we came across what looked like tire tracks and footprints.

“This could be the one,” Talon whispered.

This door was padlocked and had been recently replaced. Not a great chance that I’d be able to kick it in. I tried, though, and got a nasty charley horse in my thigh.

“Maybe both of us together,” Talon said.

We kicked on three. Nothing.

“No one’s there, apparently, or they’d have heard us kicking,” Talon said.

“We still have to try,” I said. “What if she’s in there? Tied up and gagged?”

I could hardly bear the thought.

Talon nodded. “Let’s check the windows.”

We walked the perimeter of the unit, Talon shining the light in each window. “A-ha,” he said. “Beakers and Bunsen burners. This is a meth lab.”

“So that’s why it’s locked up, and why there are tire tracks. Still, what if Marj is in there? She could have easily been taken by meth heads.”

“We’d have gotten a ransom demand if that were the case,” Talon said. “My gut tells me she’s not here. We shouldn’t waste the time.”

“We can’t take the chance. We have to know for sure.”

He nodded. “You’re right.” He pushed his flashlight through a window, breaking the glass. “Give me a boost.”

“You need a cloth. What if a shard gets you?”

“I’ve been through worse than a cut from broken glass,” he said.

I nodded and made a scoop with my hands. He pulled himself up to the window.

“You stay here and keep watch,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

“Roger.”

I heard faint noises of Talon tussling around inside, looking for clues. A minute passed. Then another. Then ten more, until—

Crash!

Shit! I hoisted myself up quickly and landed, not gracefully, on the floor of what appeared to be the kitchen. I didn’t have a flashlight, but my eyes adjusted quickly. This was a meth lab, all right, but it had long since been abandoned.

I followed the noises Talon was making, my weapon drawn. “Talon! I’m coming.”

“This way,” he said.

Soon I came upon him. His light was shining on a skinny sandy-haired man. He held his gun aimed at the man’s heart.

“He came in the back way after I got in,” Talon said.

I moved to Talon’s right to cover the guy from the back. I aimed my gun at his brain.

“Start talking,” Talon said.

“You better have a good reason for breaking and entering,” the man said.

“And you better have a good reason for having a meth lab in your kitchen,” I retorted.

“It’s not mine,” the man said.

“Sell it to someone else.” Talon cocked his gun. “We’re looking for three people. An older woman with brown hair and eyes, a younger one, same coloring with long hair, and a young man with light brown hair and hazel eyes. Hair’s real short.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “Put those guns down, please.”

“Not on your life,” I said through clenched teeth. “You’re holed up in a meth lab. Even if you