Page 55 of Mountain Challenge

“She knows who you are?” the first man screeched.

“Of course she knows. Close the door, Richard. We don’t want our friend here to get any ideas.”

“Don’t tell her my name!” Another screech.

“Relax, Richard. She will not be telling anyone anything.”

“Let us go,” Isla begged, looking at the younger man. “Please. We won’t say anything.”

“Shut up. Or I’ll gag you.” Isla recoiled at the hatred in Getty’s voice.

The slimmer man started. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this ...”

“Notcomfortable?” Miles mocked. “She’s not here to make you comfortable. She’s here to make him pay.”

Make him pay …It took a moment for Isla to parse the words, but when they did, she finally understood. This had nothing to do with her. This was about Ry, and what had happened on that mountain.

“Don’t look so serious, kitten,” the man mocked. “We’re going to have some fun together.”

29

Ry

Ateam of gendarmes descended on the scene first, followed by his teammates. There was no need to convince anyone of the seriousness of the situation, nolet’s wait twenty-four hours and see, like you see in books and movies. From the moment they arrived, everybody took the women’s disappearance seriously.

“How are you holding up, Ry?” the colonel asked. As always, the man looked calm and perfectly put together. Ry hadn’t expected to see the colonel, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. The PGHM took care of their own, and one would have to be blind not to realize Ry was close to losing it.

It was a fair question, but not one Ry felt capable of answering without breaking down. He gave what he hoped was a stoic nod.

“You’re sure both women were here?”

Though he’d answered the question multiple times already, Ry stopped himself from lashing out at Vincent. His colleague was only doing his job, and it was important to be thorough. Lack of information was one of the main factors in not finding a victim early on.

The thought of Isla as a victim burned his throat. He wouldn’t think of her as a victim. Whatever it took, he was going to find her and bring her back.

“Isla’s friend is visiting from Brussels. They invited me over for dinner. They were going to cook Belgian food.” They’d all seen the mussels soaking in the sink.

“What time did you arrive?”

“Just before six. There wasn’t much traffic, so I was a few minutes early. I sat outside in my car speaking with my sister, then walked up to the apartment.”

“And you didn’t see anyone leave?”

Ry thought back to those minutes in the car. It’d been raining, so visibility had been limited. And he hadn’t been paying attention. But no. If somebody had left with Isla and Laura—conscious or unconscious—he would have seen.

“And you didn’t you touch anything?” That came from a woman dressed in white, who’d been taking samples.

Ry shook his head. He’d gotten close to the bloodstain, but he hadn’t actually touched it. He hadn’t even closed the fridge until Vincent and his team had had time to take pictures, even though the beeping sound had nearly driven him insane. “I didn’t touch anything,” he confirmed.

“The blood belongs to one person. We’ve put a rush order on it, so we should know more tomorrow.” Vincent paused, as if realizing how inadequate his words were.Tomorrow. Isla didn’t have that long.

Ry’s eyes went to the table, where Isla and Laura’s phones had been when he’d arrived. He hadn’t touched them. Ry had shared Isla’s pin number with Vincent.

“Anything on the phone?” he asked, knowing his voice sounded cracked.

“Nothing, but Alex will keep looking. He’s also working on getting access to her friend’s phone.” Vincent said. His voice gentled. “It’s possible that whatever happened isn’t about Isla at all.”

Ry didn’t know if that was better or worse. He searched through his mind for anything he might have forgotten to share with the team. He didn’t think there was anything. He’d told them everything he knew about Isla and Laura. Everything he knew about the tattoo studio. Her parents. The ex-husband. His hands clenched into fists when he thought about the ex-husband. Was there more to the story than he’d heard? Was Isla scared of him? If so, why hadn’t she said?—

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