Page 130 of Secrets in the Deep

Ryan leaned closer. “Melanie—where?”

“I don’t know! He loves the forest. He talks about the river a lot, near where the trailers were. But he also loved that big old deserted house.”

The river near the trailers or the old Connoway mansion. It was the best they had.

He rose and turned to his team as an ambulance pulled up out front. “Ethan, Connor, and Joel, I want you three down atthe river, in the forest, east of where the trailers were located.” He turned to Zac. “We’re going to the Connoway mansion.”

They were going to find her. They had to.

Emily groanedas she rolled from her side to her back. Her body hurt. Her head ached. God, she wanted to be sick. And why was her mouth so dry?

She scrunched her eyes, hard floor pressing at her back.

Slowly, she forced her eyes open. Dark floorboards. A dusty old couch. A wooden coffee table. But just a dull light from…candles?

She blinked. She knew this room. She’d been inside this living room.

This was the deserted mansion.

Then it hit her. All of it. Like a steam train she couldn’t step away from.

Roscoe. The soles of her mother’s shoes, followed by the arm around her throat and the cloth over her mouth.

Oh, God. Roscoe had attacked her. Taken her.

Why? Why would he hit her mother and drag her here?

With a groan, she pushed to her feet.

Out. She needed to get out of this housenow.

But where was he?

A chill slipped over her skin as she glanced at the flickers of light from the candles on the fireplace. At the empty room.

Why put her here and leave?

No, he wouldn’t go to all this trouble just to leave her here alive.

The fine hairs on her arms stood on end as she scanned the room.

That’s when she saw something else. A small red light from a camera, affixed in the top right corner of the room.

He was filming her. The sick bastard.

Screw this. Screwhim.

She stumbled into the hall, toward the front door, needing to grab at a wall to catch herself when a wave of dizziness almost had her falling.

You’ve got this, Emily. Keep going.

One more step and she reached the handle. She turned. It didn’t open.

Then she saw the shiny, new hasp attached to the door…and the heavy-duty padlock hanging from the staple.

No.

And she already knew the windows were boarded over.Shit, shit, shit.