Page 137 of Another Girl Lost

I ticked through all of Margo’s features and now saw more similarities than differences. “You knew Tanner had a girlfriend. He locked you in the box under his bed.”

Margo was silent but her eyes narrowed slightly.

“You met Lynn briefly at Tanner’s front door. Did you signal her that you were in trouble? You must have been terrified. If you called out for help, would she have believed you or Tanner? Lynn adored Tanner.”

“Did she?”

“It must have felt terrible when Lynn just walked away.”

Margo’s gaze hardened.

“Is she the reason he started locking you in the basement or the box under his bed? Maybe he was worried she’d come back and figure out you were his prisoner. Or maybe he told her the truth and she kept his secret.”

“This is sad,” Margo said. “Maybe you’ll finally get the help you need.”

“Did you help Tanner dispose of Sandra’s body, or did Lynn?” I shook my head. “Della knew she was gone and likely dead.” I remembered Della’s somberness whenever I asked about the Other Girl. I shook my head. “You didn’t help him with the body, but you must have heard Tanner talking about it.”

She didn’t speak.

“That’s when you decided to escape. It took time, but eventually you goaded Tanner into beating you before we were all to go to the diner. He thought you were too beat up to move, but you weren’t. You found a way out of that house. I thought you looked so bloodied and battered, but maybe that was an act, too. After we left, you got free and burned the house down.”

Margo’s face was stoic. “Keep spinning tales, Scarlett. It’ll entertain us as we wait for the cops.”

I glanced at Lynn on the bed. She was breathing. Weeping. Begging to be set free.

“Why did you decide to kill Tiffany after all this time?” Margo asked. “Was she blackmailing you?”

“I didn’t kill her. I was trying to help her.” My eyes narrowed. “Did you send that text to me this morning?”

“No.” Margo looked past me to Lynn. “It’s almost over. I’m here to save you. Drop the knife, Scarlett.”

“You’ve been waiting for me. You set this up.”

“No. I found you standing over this poor woman with a knife.”

I tightened my grip around the handle. “This isn’t what you think.”

“It’s your house. You stalked Lynn.”

I realized how terrible this looked. In the distance police sirens grew louder. Margo was a cop, and she was right. No one would believe me. As the cops approached the warehouse, fury and anger rolled inside me. I was going to be arrested and thrown into a cell.

And Margo knew it. That same smile that lured me to the van appeared. Years of resentment flooded through me, stinging my muscles and burning my fingertips. I’d escaped, and now she was back to lock me up again. I’d gone willingly the first time. But not now.

I lunged toward Margo, the knife held high. She raised her weapon, but I was seconds faster. I plunged the knife into her shoulder and sliced across her chest. Howling in pain, she shoved me back hard.

As I raised the knife a second time, I heard a distant command ordering me to drop the weapon. My hands slick with blood, the knife slipped and cut my palm.

And then the zap of electricity seconds before prongs embedded in my chest and a jolt ripped through my body and paralyzed my muscles. I fell to the floor, unable to move or pull in a deep breath.

Strong hands pried the knife from my fingers. Metal clinked around one wrist as it was wrenched behind my back. The second cuff wrapped around my wrist and tightened until metal pinched my skin. My vision blurred as my body convulsed. I collapsed against the floor.

I saw Dawson move to Margo. When he spoke to her, his voice was full of concern. “Margo, hang tough.”

“Help Lynn,” Margo said. “Her breathing has been compromised.”

“You’re bleeding,” he growled.

“I’ll live.”

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