Page 67 of The Woman in the Garage

There was a smile on my lips as I slid my finger across the screen to unlock the phone.

That same smile was in my voice as I answered.

Until I heard her voice—high-pitched, tight, borderline hysterical. Crying out my name.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt panic like I did right then.

Adrenaline surged through my system as I had just enough presence of mind to flick off the burners before running through the house and jumping into my car.

The garage was a solid seven to ten minutes away.

But I blew through every yellow light, rolled through every stop sign.

“Is someone there with you right now?” I asked as Dasha sniffled on the other end of the phone.

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice small and quivering. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay. Even if someone is, I got it, okay?” I said, reaching over to my glove box to grab my gun.

I knew I was probably supposed to call Luca, to tell him I was possibly going into a dangerous situation. I was supposed to have backup. But I couldn’t waste time waiting for someone else to show up. Not when Dasha was crying by herself at work after… who the fuck knew what happened.

“Where are you in the shop, baby?” I asked, seeing the building looming in the distance.

“The bathroom. By the front door in the lobby.”

“Okay. I’m almost there. But I want you to stay in the bathroom until I come to get you; can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” she said, sniffling harder, trying to pull herself together.

“I’m pulling in now,” I told her, slamming on the brakes the second I pulled into the lot. “I’m gonna hang up while I come in and look around. Just stay where you are. I’m coming for you.”

“Okay.”

I hated ending the call, but I couldn’t have a phone to my ear when I was trying to clear a building.

Sucking in a deep breath, I climbed out of the car.

I went right to the front door, but the handle didn’t give. I’d break it if I had to. But if someone came in while Dasha was in there, chances were there was a door that was unlocked.

I inched around the building until I came to a side door. That one opened right up.

I moved inside the darkened building, pausing to listen for a moment, seeing if I could hear any footsteps.

There was nothing.

So I made my way through the bay area and Dasha’s office, then the back storage room, and—finally—the reception area.

Then I moved around, flicking on all the lights to double-check.

It was then I saw Dasha’s purse on the floor, contents spread around.

Then I saw, with a twisting in my gut, blood.

A growl rolled through me as I went back to the side door, locking it.

I paused to gather the spilled contents of her pocketbook, bringing it with me as I went back toward the reception area.

Making my way to the bathroom door, I gently tapped my knuckles on the door.

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