Page 6 of Taken By the Bounty Hunter

Now, the dirty cop—one Deputy Mark Lund—who “tipped” me off on the wrong address is now running for sheriff, and that’s a whole heap of trouble for the town of Darling Creek.

I wish I’d done more than simply give Georgie my card and tell her to call me. I probably looked like a creep, but I honestly meant it sincerely. I hadn’t meant it as a pickup line.

Her friend, Goldie, has been cautious about giving me too much information. That’s partially my fault.

I may not have started off on the right foot by showing up unannounced after tracking Goldie down at her and her husband’s house on Windgrave Mountain.

To their credit, Goldie and Barrett invited me in when they realized I was on their side. They made coffee, and we gathered around their kitchen table.

The two of them had started talking strategy with me. A lot of big-picture stuff that I didn’t care about.

Me? I had a one-track mind.

What does Georgie like? I asked.

Goldie and Barrett exchanged a look. “Plants. Books. She collects journals like they’re going out of style,” Goldie had said.

“Where would she go if she ran away again?”

“She wouldn’t.”

Honestly, I can’t blame Goldie for not entirely trusting me, considering she spends most of her time trying to rescue women and children from that crazy church.

“If you want to help Georgie,” Goldie pressed, “You can join us in helping the victims. It’s a process. You’re not going to go in and snatch her out of there. It takes time. It takes precision.”

I regret pushing back on this with Goldie. Words like “process” and “time” and “precision” are not in my vocabulary.

“Like hell I won’t. That’s exactly what I’m gonna do,” I said.

“You need resources. You need us,” she said, crossing her arms, her body language communicating that I was on dangerous ground.

“I don’t play well with others. I just want to find her.”

And then her husband, Barrett, told me it was time to leave.

After I left Windgrave Mountain, I went home, opened my laptop, and did some digging on the cult.

Let me tell you, that was one fucked up internet rabbit hole.

Now that I know what I know about this church, their women aren’t allowed to possess their own phones. Of course, Georgie couldn’t call me.

So it’s all on me to find her. More power to her friends and everything they do, but Georgie is my mission and mine alone.

My hands squeeze the steering wheel as I coast by the house.

A woman comes out through the side door. I sit up straight for a second, hoping against hope that it’s her.

But it’s not Georgie. The woman is about twice Georgie’s age and has a basket of wet laundry. She takes one look at me, then barks something to the children.

They all jump. A second later, they’re headed for the door.

The woman continues to give me the side eye as she hangs the laundry on the line. No one else comes outside.

Georgie should be here. As I watch this woman do her work, I realize that none of those clothes she hangs on the line look like they might belong to Georgie.

Where the hell is she?

Off in the distance, a white pickup approaches, coming from the direction of the main compound.

---