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“You must. You just don’t know it. Your father is a smart man, not smart enough to not get caught, but smart, nonetheless. I can guarantee that journal is somewhere in your home, and I want it.”
“How do you expect me to find it?”
“Did you get anything from your father’s house that the FBI didn’t seize?”
Dixie frowned then realized she did have something from the house. Her mother’s desk. Before she could give anything away, she shook her head.
“No. Nothing. The FBI took everything.”
Cortez’s eyes narrowed. “Why is it that I don’t believe you?”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t care less if you believe me or not. I cannot give you something I don’t have.”
“I’ll kill Townson,” Cortez said.
“I don’t have it. I swear. If I did, I would give it to you.”
“Well, we’re going to take you to your home tomorrow, and we will all look for it. One of my men will stay behind and if we don’t find it, Townson is dead. Get some rest, Ms. McCarthy. You’re going to need it.”
After looking at her once more, he walkedfrom the room, closing the door behind him and locking it.
The next morning, Dixie sat on the edge of the bed, exhausted from a sleepless night, when one of Cortez’s men entered the room.
“Get up.”
“Why?” Dixie asked, feeling a sense of dread wash over her.
“Just get up. We’re going to your house to find that journal.”
“I already told you; I don’t know where it is.”
“It has to be there somewhere. Get up,” he demanded.
Dixie sighed and reluctantly got to her feet. She followed him out of the room as he grabbed her arm tightly and led her down the stairs.
When they reached the living room, another man motioned for her to sit on the sofa. Her heart raced when she saw Cortez enter the room.
“I hope you’re ready to help me find that journal, Ms. McCarthy.”
“What if I can’t? Like I said, I have never seen it before.”
“If you can’t, we’ll kill Townson.”
“He’s nothing to me,” Dixie snapped, trying to downplay her connection with Logan.
“Well then, it won’t matter to you what happens to him, will it?”
Tears pricked at Dixie’s eyes as she imagined Logan being hurt. She had wanted to die when she thought he’d been killed. She clenched her jaw and glared at the man. She had no idea how she was going to get out of this situation or where Logan was or if he was evenalive. She fought back tears at the thought of him being dead.
“Just because he’s nothing to me doesn’t mean I want to see him suffer. If you hurt him, I will not help you find that journal.”
“We could just kill you instead.”
“If you kill me, the police will be all over my house and you’ll never get it. Assuming it’s even there,” Dixie pointed out.
“There’s nowhere else it could be,” Cortez stated confidently.
“But how do you expect me to find it?”
