She stepped closer to the source of the dim light in the room, a spot behind a wooden post that had been a remnant of an old shelf. As she neared, she knew where the light was coming from, and her eyes brimmed with tears. A glimmer filtered through a hole, one she had dug many years ago. She ducked behind the post and knelt. Trash she’d stuffed into the cavity, to keep the man from finding it, had long since blown away or rotted.
Moonlight and the distant city lights streamed through it now. And a faint breeze touched her cheek as she peered through the crack. She remembered how it felt to see through it for the first time. Back then she’d worn down an old spoon and a few big nails that she’d used as tools to cut through two layers of cracked old brick. The simple comfort of fresh air on her face had made her cry then, as it did now. And images of her first encounter with little Samantha Cooper flooded her mind.
She thought she had been found that day, that someone would come to rescue her, but Sammie must not have understood. And when days went by and help never came, the setback crushed her spirit, finally and completely. She’d never told anyone that, especially not Sam. Hell, she hated admitting it to herself.
She had tried to bury that thought, but being here again was a cruel reminder that Danny Ray Millstone had beaten her down. He’d stolen her innocence and robbed her of ever feeling safe again. He died the day she was rescued, but she got a life sentence. A rush of sadness hit her hard, as if it had happened only yesterday. She clutched a fist to her chest and shut her eyes, fighting back the pain.
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “Please.” Her version of a prayer.
But Harper needed her now. This wasn’t about her demons. She had to find Seth.
She stood on shaky legs. And when she was ready, she ventured into every corner of Millstone’s basement. There were lots of places to keep secrets. This had been her world for a time. And she knew it well.
When she got to a familiar air vent, she knelt once more and listened. Jess never thought she would be in this very spot again—the place where she’d first seen Max Jenkins and witnessed the end to her living hell. Struggling to block out a rush of dark memories, she listened at the vent, but her gaze trailed down to the large, dark splatter that stained the floor near her feet.
Shutting her eyes to concentrate, she was surprised how little she’d forgotten. From this point, sounds in the house echoed and traveled through the air vents. Noises from the floors above could be heard by sitting very still and listening. She’d gotten good at deciphering what they meant. It had been her early-warning system when she was held captive. If the man had plans for her, she’d hear it through the air vents first.
But hearing noises from deep within the house also had its price. Every kid crying alone and the torturous screams of others had scarred her. There were nights she still heard them, even now.
She’d never be free of Danny Ray Millstone and his house. Not ever.
As a tear dried on her cheek, she heard a soft footstep above. Her head jerked toward the noise, and she stood. The ground floor was her guess. Although listening through the air vent was tricky, she knew the sound had been too close for it to come from the second or third floor. It could be Alexa, but if she heard the woman’s footsteps, then so could someone else—someone who might know the house better than her friend.
She had thoroughly searched the basement and hoped the worst was behind her. Now it was time to find Alexa and put an end to this, but one thing she knew with certainty.
Harper was here. She felt it.
The house on High Street had a vibe to it—the kind that haunted anyone who came here. Alexa sensed the smell of old death and something…more. She wasn’t one to believe in evil spirits, yet something lingered in this place.
And she hadn’t been immune to its force.
She’d nearly finished her search of the first floor, the process slow going in the dark. Her night vision had improved. And she took advantage of every elusive trace of light that had found its way into the gloom.
But the creak of a loose floorboard forced her to stop.
Holding her gun in both hands, she listened for a beat, then crept along a wall, hoping to avoid the same mistake of stepping on a creaky board. Up ahead, she sensed a presence, and the hair on her neck drove goose bumps down her arms. She fixed her eyes on a subtle movement across the floor, a vague shift of light.
Or had she only imagined it?
Jessie. She had to remember that Jessie had gone missing in the house. The shadow up ahead could be her. Alexa gripped her weapon and crept closer, but movement to her right startled her. She turned and aimed her weapon. An open doorway.
That’s when she heard it.
“It’s me,” the bounty hunter whispered from behind cover, then moved into view. Not much more than a shadow, she raised her arms and let herself be seen.
But if Jessie had been to her right, who stood in the shadows ahead?
Alexa wouldn’t wait to find out the hard way. Without a word of warning to Jessie, she held up her weapon and headed to the next doorway down the hall. She saw the bounty hunter tense beside her and fall into step.
Down to the left, a shadow moved and eclipsed a very faint light. It drifted as if it were a ghost. And she heard a muffled gasp, at least she thought she had. With her heart hammering her chest and adrenaline coursing through her veins, Alexa pushed her shoulders to a wall and inched closer for a better look.
She held her breath and peered around the corner.
Across the room, she spied a pale glimmer under another door, one with a series of heavy metal brackets, like coat hooks, screwed on the outside of it. And movement obscured the light that spilled onto the floor. Someone was behind the door.
Alexa stepped into the room with Jessie at her back. She moved to the closed door, wedging her body along the far doorjamb. And Jessie took the nearest one. The sparse light from below cast eerie shadows into the room, shedding light on the haunted eyes of the bounty hunter. She’d never seen Jessie frightened like this. The woman was normally rock solid, but something had a firm hold on her.
She nudged her head toward Jessie—her way of asking if she was ready. When the bounty hunter grimaced and gave her attitude with one look, Alexa knew Jessie would back her up.
Being cautious, she listened at the door and heard the soft gasp again. With another nod, she signaled to Jessie and reached for the doorknob. She turned it slowly and realized it was open. One more time she caught the eye of the bounty hunter, then shoved the door open.
Gun drawn, she charged inside, with Jessie close behind. Half the room was steeped in shadows, but a dim light shone from a far corner. It was enough to force her to wince, protecting her night vision.
It was the last thought she remembered.
Alexa entered the room first, taking the lead into a windowless chamber that was dark except for a single light on the floor. The beam reflected up, positioned against the far wall. With her Colt Python aimed, Jess avoided squinting into the light that would screw with her night vision. Instead her eyes fixed on a dark silhouette of a man sitting across the room. His shoulders were slumped, and the dim light profiled his face.
She didn’t see what happened to Alexa until it was too late.
Jess heard a loud thud and caught a glimpse of another man, his movement a blur. Alexa’s body blocked her view. And time slowed to a sluggish crawl. She watched as her arm shifted, holding the Colt Python, but Alexa collapsed into her. The blow knocked her off-balance. It took everything she had to hold on to her gun, but Alexa’s weapon skittered into the dark.
When Jess hit the floor, Alexa collapsed on top of her. She shoved the woman aside and grappled for her footing. But as she got to her knees, she came face-to-face with a gun muzzle pointed dead center, right between her eyes. That was enough incentive to stop her cold.
Panting, Jess knew she’d been beat. She slowly set her gun down and shoved it toward the man, then raised her hands, hoping he wouldn’t shoot.
“Okay…okay. You win.” She took a quick look down to see if Alexa was still breathing. She never saw what happened. “What did you do to her?”
Alexa had a nasty gash over her eyebrow. Blood pooled under her head, making her blond hair glisten in the faint light. Jess wanted to stop the bleeding, but when she leaned toward the woman, a man’s booming voice stopped her.
“You…stay put,” he ordered, raising his weapon and kicking her gun behind him into the dark. “By the time
