Page 26 of Rescued Faith

“Mitchell here.” Her eyes widened. “Really? Yeah, give me that address.” She gestured for a pen. As soon as Bryce handed it to her, she scribbled on a napkin. “That’s great. Thanks!” She ended the call and looked at him. “We’ve got a lead. Tony ran down the license plate from the truck I saw last night parked near the warehouse. Gomez and Hernandez drove it. The name on the license came back. Doreen Van Kerk.”

“Who’s that?”

“A woman who died three years ago. She still has a house under her name though. Tony gave me the address. He and Olivia are already there.”

Since when did the guy go by Tony? “Then we should check that address out. Mind if I ride with you?” She always did like being in the driver’s seat, and there was no better way to keep her safe than by sticking close.

And hopefully she’d forget all aboutTony.

NINE

Penny wasn’t sure what was more battered: her body or her heart. Every muscle movement and bump in the road brought more pain. But to have Bryce back in the passenger seat of her car again was a different kind of torture.

And yet part of her soaked it in, begging for more. More of the way he protected her from bullets and shrapnel with his own body. More of the dark chocolate-brown stare that pulled her in. More of the way he focused so intently on her when she had something to say.

“Hey, is that the penny I gave you?” He pointed at the one dangling from her keychain. Yes, the very one he’d pulled out of his pocket when he’d taken her up in the mountains to watch the stars. They’d lain on a sleeping bag in the bed of his truck, a velvet night sky and the Milky Way stretching above them with stars so bright she could almost touch them.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he’d said as he’d handed over the copper coin.

“I think this is about as close to heaven on earth as a person can get.” Even her voice had sounded small in the vastness and glory displayed in that sky. And she rememberedthe contentment of that moment. Her mother had felt close. The ache of missing her dulled to almost nothing.

Almost.

Bryce had looked at her then. She could’ve sworn he saw all of her, down to her soul. And he’d smiled, happy with whatever it was he’d found. “I think you’re right.”

But he wasn’t looking up at the stars or the tiny sliver of a moon.

He was looking at her.

And she’d kept the penny to remember that feeling. She wanted to get back to that place of contentment. Of feeling close to her mom. Of feeling seen.

She hadn’t found it yet, but surely she would eventually. She just had to keep searching.

Instead of answering Bryce’s question, she looked at the navigation screen on her dashboard. “Looks like we’re here.”

They pulled up to an old farmhouse with a sagging porch. The yellow paint was peeling away from the siding. Weeds grew in the flower beds that lined the front. Two cop cars took up the short driveway, but no one was in the front yard. They followed the pavers around to the side of the house. Bryce hung behind to take a phone call while Penny continued to the backyard. An old red shed meant to look like a miniature barn stood in one corner against a tree line. One of the officers she hadn’t met was studying it. She heard Tony’s voice and turned to look for him.

Her gaze locked on to the little ramp against the back wall of the house and the gaping doors opening up to cement stairs.

A cellar.

The smell of damp, musty earth hit her.

Penny stood frozen halfway across the yard. Despite the hot sun beating down on them, she shivered.

She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her breathing was too fast, but it wasn’t nearly enough oxygen. What was happening? A shadow came up the steps toward her.

The voices she’d heard so clearly now sounded muffled and far away. Her vision blurred.

“Penny?”

Bryce touched her arm. “Pen?”

She tried to speak but couldn’t.

“Hey, maybe you should sit down. You’re white as a ghost.” He looked worried, but all she could focus on was pulling enough air into her suddenly shrunken lungs.

He helped her sit in the grass. “Try resting your head on your knees.”

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