U.S. Marshal, Wyatt Tanning is in a race to catch a serial killer who has evaded the authorities. Just as the case hits a dead end, an unexpected email gives him a lead. As much as he wants to share the surprising message with his lover, Rye Daniels, he must hunt a killer first. Darby Grant never expected that one night would change her life forever, but that’s exactly what happened. Not only has she been abducted, but she is in a situation that nightmares are made of. As she begins to lose all hope, fate steps in to offer her aid, but she’s well aware things will never be the same again. Soon, though, Darby begins to realize that might not be such a bad thing…
U.S. Marshal Wyatt sprinted up the front porch, hearing the wood crack and groan under his weight. At the front door, he raised his foot and kicked it open with a crash. Holding his weapon at shoulder height, he placed the flashlight underneath to offer light in the dark space and entered cautiously.
“Spread out,” he ordered.
His team dispersed, each taking a room to search. Wyatt strode forward and kept his gun in his line of vision. He scoped out the living room; if he could even call it such. Old furniture situated around the room sat covered in dust—so much in fact, it itched his nose.
“Clear,” Taryn called from the kitchen.
He glanced around, looking behind the couch first then searched everyplace someone might hide. He found nothing. “Clear,” he replied. Each of the deputies issued the same response from upstairs to confirm the house lay empty.
Lowering his gun, he sighed. He’d hoped the lead Madame Eve gave would have brought them to Marcus. Apparently, she’d been wrong, and that not only confused, but irritated him. His hopes had risen only to plummet again.
He spun around to approach Taryn in the kitchen, and a light caught his eye. If he’d come in the daytime he never would’ve seen it, but being pitch black in the room, the light glowed through the dark space. A small hole, maybe the size of a pea, sat at the bottom of the far wall.
Wyatt raised his gun and approached. “I’ve got something here.” At the wall, he squatted and ran his finger over the light. He looked to Taryn when she stepped in next to him. “There’s something behind here.”
He stood, raised his leg, and after a few well-placed kicks, his foot went through the wall. He peered through the hole to see a set of stairs, and a wall lined with soundproofing. Turning his gun around, he used the butt end to bash in the wall.
The loud cracking of wood filled his ears, but the second he stopped, something else registered in the air—a loud scream for help. He jerked his head toward Taryn. “Did you hear that?”
“I heard it.” She pushed on his back. “Go.”