Page 93 of Exposure of Murder

“Give me some good news,” he asked hopefully.

She smirked. “Well, the good news is that Viper is probably Victor Ruggerio. Rumors suggest that he is involved in racketeering and money laundering, although nothing has been proven. He’s cautious. I have to give him that. It looks like he uses other people to do his dirty work.”

Okay then. Ethan mentally filed away that information. He was sure Sean could run with what they had and dig deeper.

“Any idea of his whereabouts?”

“He owns a condo in Manhattan, which he’s had for several years.” Rosie shrugged. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

“More than we had before.” Ethan wondered if Victor was really going to bring Maggie to New York, or was he stringing her along for some reason? He’d touch base again with Maggie later.

Rosie stood. “I’ll keep checking,” she said, leaving the office.

Maybe now was a good time to call Sean, Ethan thought as he picked up the phone. Before he could dial the number, a call came through his cell phone.

Finally, Jane called.

“Hi, sweetheart. Having fun with Savannah?”

“Ethan, it’s not Jane. It’s Savannah.”

Alarm bells went off in his head. “Hi. What’s up? Where’s Jane?” His knuckles turned white as he clenched the phone.

“That’s what I was going to ask you. Where is Jane? Is she running errands? Is she with you?” Savannah’s voice trembled, edging toward hysterical. “I’ve been here an hour. Her car’s here, but she’s not.”

Jane wasn’t there? Ethan closed his eyes. His stomach plummeted. This wasn’t good—not good at all. “Have you checked the barn?”

“No. Will you stay on the phone while I run over?”

“Of course.”

Ethan heard Savannah’s footsteps crunching over the gravel and her labored breathing as she ran to the barn.

“I’m here.” Silence. Then her voice dropped into a whisper. “Oh God, it looks like there’s been a struggle.”

Ethan’s pulse pounded in his ears, matching the rapid beat of his racing heart. His mind tried but failed to stop the worst-case scenarios. Images of Jane hurt, frightened, or worse, each more horrifying than the last, flashed through his mind. He tightened his grip on the phone.

“Savannah, we’ll be right there. Go back to the house and stay there until I arrive.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “How long before you get here?”

“It’ll be just a few minutes. Please go back to the house.”

“Okay.”

The phone went dead. Ethan shot to his feet, grabbed his keys, and bolted out of his office.

“Ethan, what’s wro—?” Jimbo looked up and asked.

He barked at Jimbo. “Get a patrol car to Jane’s place now.”

Jimbo’s eyes widened. He nodded, already reaching for the radio. Ethan was out the door and in his truck with the engine roaring, lights flashing and the siren screaming as he sped toward Jane’s farm. The landscape blurred by as his mind went to a dark place. “Please be safe,” he muttered under his breath.

Bile rose from his gut, threatening to choke him. If something bad happened to Jane, whoever hurt her would pay. He called Tanner and told him to get his butt up to the farm, that Savannah was in the house.

The trip felt like an eternity. Ethan finally skidded to a stop at the barn, jumped out, and raced toward the barn. It was eerily silent. Dark clouds settled overhead, casting a threatening shadow over the farm. He looked toward the farmhouse and saw Savannah pacing on the porch. Tanner was with her.

The barn door was open. A sheep was in a stall bleating at him. The cats were playing with something under the feed bin. There were signs of a struggle and a feed pail flung aside.

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