AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She tried to scream, but before the sound could leave her lips, a hand stifled the noise. Panic settled over her. Monica attempted to claw at the giant paw encasing both her mouth and nose, but it was no use. The person seemed to be immune to her struggles.
Fight or flight finally kicked in and it was no longer about just trying to dislodge the hand over her face. Monica kicked and bucked like a bull at the rodeo. Sick satisfaction swirled in her belly when she felt her heel connect with what she hoped was a shin. The small grunt from her captor ensured she hit something of importance, but it did nothing to loosen the hold on her.
With each new step she was dragged along, her ability to fight was further diminished. Monica regretted all those times Ash tried to convince her to participate in yoga or some other form of exercise. The exertion she was putting out was quickly causing fatigue.
Why the hell had she thought she could get by on her fast metabolism was beyond her. It was of no use now when she was growing exhausted from mere minutes of struggling.
The panic was made worse by the fact that whoever was taking her had yet to speak. It sent her mind reeling. The hard chest and large palm suggested a very fit male. The lack of odor or any other scent made her think the person had done this before. At this rate, if he let her go, she wouldn't be able to give the police a single detail to help them identify the guy.
That thought further freaked her out. Was it good or bad that the person kidnapping her didn't want her to be able to identify them? Monica thought back to every crime show she ever watched. Usually, it was the kidnappers who showed their faces that were the most dangerous. It meant the chances of survival were slim to none. So maybe not being able to identify this person was a good thing. She would survive.
Then Monica thought back to the earrings she was wearing. Was it really just two days ago that Luke insisted she have them modified? If what Caden had said was true, this Tex guy would be able to find her no matter where she ended up.
The thought provided some comfort.
With any luck, Ryker would swoop in to save the day before they ever managed to make it out of the building. That thought disappeared when a second individual stepped into her line of vision. This person didn't care that she saw his face as he shoved a rag toward her. At the last second, the hand cutting off her access to breath suddenly moved, and before she could think better of it, her lungs demanded she take a big gulp of air.
But instead of the fresh air her body needed, a sickly sweet scent filled her nostrils and she immediately understood her mistake. They weren't giving her the opportunity to breathe. They were knocking her out.
As her vision started to blacken, Monica realized how precarious her situation was. There was nothing left to do, as the darkness pulled her under, except to hope her earrings would indeed save her life.
Otherwise, it was game over. Seeing her kidnapper's face promised that. And that was Monica's last thought before her body and mind succumbed to the drugs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Meeting with the fire marshal wasn't how he wanted to spend his afternoon. When Ryker called to let him know that Monica had a break in her day, due to a client canceling, he had hoped to surprise her with lunch. Ryker's tendency to constantly hound Monica's secretary had its benefits. But even his best-laid plans didn't work out.
Not when he got a call from both Steven, the chief of police, and Brad, the fire marshal, saying that they wanted to meet him at Monica's townhouse.
"Luke." He grabbed Steven’s outstretched hand and pumped once. "Thanks for meeting us on such short notice."
"You said you had something you wanted to show me."
"Brad does."
Brad was the same fire marshal they met with the day after Monica's neighbor's house caught fire. He was the one who suspected it was arson. Luke liked the guy because he was a no-nonsense kind of man who got straight to the point.
"Lead the way."
Monica's townhouse was a two-story building built in the sixties, in immaculate condition. Or it had been until the fire next door had traveled a short distance and caught the second floor on fire.
Steven brought him around to the side of the townhouse that caught fire. Brad stood next to two ladders that rested against where Monica's bedroom would've been.
"Are we climbing?"
"We are." Brad gestured to one of the ladders. "What I have to show you is up there."
Now he was intrigued. Because the buildings were so close, it was difficult to get the proper angle to climb, but they made do. Once he was just below where the bulk of the fire had started, Brad stopped him.
"Do you see this faint pattern here?"
Luke saw what he thought was a trail of water that discolored the siding.
"Kinda?" He had no idea what he was supposed to be seeing. He wasn't an expert on fires, or the paths they took.
"That's proof that an accelerant was used,” Brad explained. “And I'm not just talking about on the primary building. Someone wanted to make sure the fire jumped to this building even with the firefighters trying to provide protection to the exposure. Someone sprayed this building with accelerant as well."
He looked at the mark more closely. It wasn't until he was within an inch of the structure that he realized what he was seeing. The discoloration was actually the path the fire took through the accelerant.
