Page 20 of Emi's Hero

After drying off, she stepped into the sweatpants and pulled the T-shirt over her head. She tucked the shirt into the pants and pulled the string tight. The elastic around the ankles kept her from tripping on the length, and the string helped to keep them from falling off.

She figured she looked like a clown in the oversized garments but didn’t care. The man didn’t have to do anything. He could have taken her straight to a hospital and dropped her there, ending his responsibility there.

Emi was grateful for all he’d done so far and had promised to do. She wasn’t sure how she could rescue her daughter, much less find her.

She found a comb in the bathroom and worked the tangles out of her hair. When she’d been captured, it had been a chin-length bob. After eight years without a chance to cut it, it had grown past her waist. She gathered it into a loose bun at the top of her head and pulled the cap over it, tucking in the stray strands.

When she was ready, she stepped out of the bathroom to find a pair of men’s socks on the bed. She perched on the edge of the mattress and pulled the socks onto her feet, appreciating the warmth. As she straightened, she heard George’s voice in the other room.

“Thanks, Swede,” he said. “I’ll let her know.”

Emi emerged from the bedroom as George turned toward her.

His lips pressed together for a moment. “That was Swede. He searched the internet for a Fallon Vance in Hawaii.” George shook his head. “I’m sorry to say that he didn’t find anyonewith that name. He checked real estate records for the state of Hawaii, the Department of Motor Vehicle registration and the Division of Boating and Ocean registration databases and didn’t get a single hit. When he expanded his search to other states, he only found one Fallon Vance. That man was an eighty-one-year-old stroke victim confined to a nursing home in West Virginia.”

Emi’s heart sank into her belly.

“Did you ever hear anyone else refer to him by any other name?”

She shook her head. “No. The guards and the boat captain who worked for him called him Mr. Vance. Though most of the cleaning and maintenance staff in the compound didn’t speak English, they called him Mr. Vance.”

“Then Fallon Vance isn’t his real name,” George said. “It’s probably an alias he only used on the compound.”

She pressed her hand to her chest. “If I don’t know his name or where the compound is located, how will we find Sara?”

“We’ll start by conducting an aerial search of Kauai. It’s not as populated as Oahu and presents a better opportunity to hide a bunker-style compound.” His gaze swept her briefly. “Ready?”

Emi squared her shoulders and nodded, praying she could spot the compound quickly.

Only then would she worry about what came next.

CHAPTER 6

George escortedEmi to the SUV parked out front. What he liked most about the cabin was that it was set back from the main road with enough trees shading the entrance that it couldn’t be seen by anyone passing by. The privacy and the dock where he could park the rented boat were what had sold him on the place.

Given the recent acquisition of one almost-drowned female, George was thankful for both.

He cupped Emi’s elbow lightly and helped her down the steps and across to the SUV, opening the door for her.

When she tried to pull herself up into the passenger seat, she fell back into his chest.

He caught her easily, helped her into her seat and buckled her seatbelt around her, careful not to touch her for too long.

After all she’d been through, he could imagine she’d hate any man touching her. Though he hadn’t known her long, he didn’t want her to hate him.

Since she’d showered, she looked less like a bedraggled homeless person. Dressed in his sweats and T-shirt, with the cap hiding her auburn hair, she looked more like a teenage boy than a young mother of a three-year-old.

She was more than kind of cute. Though he’d been in a hurry to get her out of the water and her skin covered, he hadn’t been able to help but notice that she had a beautiful body. A little on the thin side, nicely shaped, with full, perky breasts, not too big, but just the right size.

He pulled his mind away from that image seared into his memory and rounded the vehicle to slide into the driver’s seat.

Silence stretched between them for the first few minutes.

George glanced over at Emi. She couldn’t be much more than five feet tall. Sitting slumped low in the passenger seat, she looked even smaller, like a sad, lost child.

Something about this woman made him want to know everything about her. He struggled with what he could ask that wouldn’t be too prying or trigger the horror she’d suffered from being kidnapped and held hostage for so long. Finally, he settled on what might have come before. “Where did you grow up, Emi?”

She wrapped her arms around her middle and stared at the road head, keeping her ballcap tipped low over her forehead. “I grew up in Boerne, Texas, a small town northwest of San Antonio.”

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