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Margie. Such an awful nickname, nothing as sweet as what Damon calls me.

She latched onto the memory of Damon telling her how he’d come up with his new nickname for her.

That was someone who cared and loved her, not whatever Ivan thought was love.

“I know,” she said, instead of yelling at him that he was wrong. “Will you untie me please, Ivan? I’m your sweet Margie, aren’t I? Please, Ivan, don’t hurt me,” she whispered.

Margot kept her gaze on him, hoping that her pathetic display of submission would be enough to convince him to release her.

Maybe once she was free, she would find something that she could use to subdue him, because he wasn’t going to win. She was going to get out of this and live the life she wanted with Damon.

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Damon paced around Margot’s small living room as Wilt sat at the dining table working away on his keyboard. His shoulder had to be killing him, as he’d seen his friend pause more than he would’ve in the past. Steve was on the phone talking to Bayden, who’d called in the middle of it all. Reed and Andy had used the fact that sight lines weren’t that great into Ivan’s place, and had broken in to see if they could find anything that would lead them to where he’d taken Margot.

Restlessness ate at him that he wasn’t doing anything proactive at the moment. Sighing, he went and sat opposite Wilt. “I’m sorry, man.”

Wilt looked up, frowning. “For what?”

“For this.” Damon pointed to the keyboard. “This can’t be good for your shoulder.”

“Fucking stop.” Wilt glared at him. “If you think for one second that I would walk away and let you deal with this by yourself, then you don’t fucking know me. I can handle a little pain, and it’s not like I’m lifting weights. I’m keeping my movements as minimal as possible.”

Damon sat back, knowing that pushing it wasn’t going to achieve anything. He would have to send Indigo flowers, chocolates, fruit, bath salts, or all of the above, for making Wilt work longer than was necessary.

A knock sounded, and he looked up and found Tabitha standing on the other side of the screen door. Before he could get up, Steve was over there letting her in, along with Narelle, Lauren, and Indigo. Charlee, Lauren’s daughter wasn’t with them, and so he assumed Lauren had sent her to a friend, there was no way she’d bring her daughter to something like this, and he appreciated that she wanted to be here for him.

Tabitha went straight over to Damon and pulled him into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

Damon gave himself over to the embrace. Ever since Steve had married Tabitha, she’d become everyone’s big sister. The one to provide food and extra support whenever needed. “Thank you.” He caught Indigo’s gaze, expecting to see annoyance in her eyes, but he only saw caring. She gave him a small smile before she went over to Wilt where she kissed him on his cheek and grabbed a chair, so that she sat beside him. He watched as Wilt gave her a quick kiss before returning to what he was doing.

“Is there anything we can do?” Narelle asked, looking around to see if she could see Andy.

“He’s next door with Reed, going through Ivan’s place.”

Lauren and Narelle nodded, as if it was normal for their partners to break into other people’s places. They both understood what they did, and didn’t have a problem with it.

“I’ve got something,” Wilt announced.

“What?”

“Ivan is renting the unit next door, but his mother has a property over in Lathlain, not far from here. From what I can ascertain, it’s been empty for the last year since his mother died.” Wilt pulled up a picture of the small brick house.

“He could’ve sold it and made a bundle, because that house is on a quarter acre. Great for subdividing. So why didn’t he?” Steve mused.

“Doesn’t matter now,” Damon stated. “This is where Margot is, I know it.”

“I’m inclined to agree, considering this. I picked it up from the camera of the house across the road.” Wilt tapped a button, and on the screen, video played of Ivan lifting something out of the truck of his car, before the garage door closed behind him.

Damon’s heart leaped into his throat, knowing that it was Margot he was carrying. He didn’t want to think that he’d already killed her, but it was a thought that wouldn’t leave him alone.

“She’s fine,” Steve murmured. “He’s not going to go to all this trouble and then harm her straightaway.”

Damon wanted to believe him. Surely he’d know if Margot was dead. Part of him would feel the loss as acutely as someone who loses a limb.

“Steve’s right. This is from yesterday,” Wilt said. This time, the video showed Ivan’s car parked in front of the closed garage, and was carrying groceries into the house. That wasn’t the action of a person who planned a murder.