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The line had gone dead, as did the recording. Harper was right all along. George very well could’ve had something to do with their accident, and this was the evidence needed to present his motive. George had essentially gotten away. There was no timestamp or anything to indicate when this conversation occurred, only that it had. George had since been living his life in Portland and...
“Portland. Oh My God. Harper,” I said aloud, then quickly grabbed my phone.
My last message from her was around noon when she responded back to my texts from the night before. She indicated that she’d gotten some much needed rest, and after meeting with her clients, she planned to pack and say goodbye to some friends. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost seven thirty here, so it would be two hours earlier there. I quickly dialed her number, but it rang a few times before going to voice mail.
I kept trying and when I couldn’t get her at all, I sent a few texts. I didn’t want to scare her so I had just told her to call me because it was important. As I waited for her to at least text me back, I started to pace around my office. When fifteen minutes had passed and nothing, I quickly booked the next flight out of Midtown.
I had to get to Portland before something bad happened to her. I kept thinking about Jayson, and while she never mentioned George abusing her in the same way, it didn’t mean she wasn’t in danger. In fact, she would be in even more if he'd actually killed my parents.
I broke nearly every traffic law ever written getting to the airport and once on the plane, I tried to text her a few more times, but still no response. I also called and asked my receptionist to forward all calls to my cellphone and cancel any in-person meetings I had.
This time of year was very successful for my career, but nothing meant more to me than Harper. I had to find her and make sure she was safe. I also needed to apologize for not believing her when I should’ve.
I thought about Valentine’s Day weekend in Chicago and how terrible I’d been to her. I had taken her with me to Washington D.C., but even then, I’d minimized her fears. If she knew any of the things I had just found out about her uncle, I could kick myself for not listening more.
The flight took about four and a half hours and while en route, I’d already arranged for a car. I knew her address not only from the investigation I had done on her, but from her own mouth. I also knew her code because she had set it to mirror the locker combination she’d always used. Odds were that I would arrive and startle her, but that she’d be okay.
After the plane landed and I rushed to the rental car desk, I handled the transaction and was soon racing toward her West End apartment. I parked nearby on the street, fed the meter, then tried to appear calm, cool, and collected as I walked through the lobby to the elevator. I took it to the fourth floor, and once in front of her door, I knocked. When I did, the door creaked open.
My heart thudded rapidly as I entered. The place was pitch black as if there was no power. She never would’ve left her door unlocked like that, and there had to be electricity in her place because the rest of the building had it. My cellphone was still in my hand, so I turned on the flashlight, and moved it around the room.
There were obvious signs of a struggle from the broken lamp on the floor to the few dots of blood on the cream-colored carpet. I turned and used the minimal light from my phone to track the trail of red, and noticed it went out the door. Whoever had Harper, they had taken her from this place, and not willingly from the looks of it.
I had no idea how to get in touch with her, so I used the tracking apps I knew both her and I had on our iPhones. According to the ping, she was just outside the city limits. My blood ran cold, and remembering the type of place Jayson had lured her to, I could only imagine where that bastard had taken her to. I took a screen shot of the address, then placed a call I should’ve made when back in Chicago.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
HARPER
When I had awoken, I was in my apartment with George and some other shady-looking character. I was bound in rope; it wrapped around more than simply my wrists and ankles. The thick material cut into my stomach, legs, and arms as he’d wound it from my feet to my neck. I tried to buck the men off, but I ended up falling onto one of the end tables.
I knocked over my favorite lamp, and hit my mouth on the corner of the table. It’d knocked out a tooth and even now, I could still taste the acrid copper against my tongue. My mouth hadn’t been the only thing that hurt. The entire side of my face did as well from the numerous blows I’d received as George interrogated me.
“You’ve locked my son up for the rest of his life. You’re a stupid bitch whose going to pay for everything you’ve done to my family.”
“He brought it on himself, just as you are doing to yourself.”
I cried out when his henchman struck me again. The way it was going, I would be left with permanent scars whereas Jayson’s had been temporary. Each time I thought him, I’d be struck with the realization that I wouldn’t be making it out of here alive. There was no way he would call Gabriel, and with no one even knowing I was in danger, the odds of someone finding me would be a miracle.
Even Jackson would be none the wiser as George had responded to one of his messages telling him that I needed to take a raincheck on our visit. I’d prayed he’d see through it, but he hadn’t and I was now at the mercy of a fucking madman.
Again. How did I keep getting myself into these situations?
I tried to think of a plan, and when George spoke again, I continued to fight to no avail. “Get her and let’s go.”
Despite the amount of fighting I tried to do, the silent henchman was able to hold me still enough so George could duct tape my mouth. Something dark and heavy was placed over my head, and I was taken away from my apartment. I couldn’t see, but I could hear, and I knew they had taken me to the stairwell instead of the elevator.
If they managed to get me out of this building, I would be killed not long after. After all, George wasn’t asking for something like Jayson had been. He had one intention which was to get rid of me. A fleeting thought that Gabriel would be next did come to mind and I tried to scream, but the tape he wound around my head was so tight, I doubted anyone could hear a thing.
A few minutes later, I felt the pelting rain against my skin before I was tossed into the backseat of a vehicle. I had no use of my hands or feet, and there didn’t even appear to be any seats back there because I rolled from one side to the other without a single object in the way. The covering was kept over my head, even as the vehicle sped off.
“Is everything set up,” George asked his henchman, and I grew still.
“It is,” the man spoke, his voice heavily accented. It wasn’t one I recognized, but that didn’t mean anything. “The house is ready in Dundee.”
“Good. Once we get there, we’ll see what else she knows, then I’ll get rid of her once and for all.”
The henchman stayed silent for a few seconds, before asking, “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, she’s just a woman.”
