Page 26 of Clara's Secure Hideaway

“Dean told me what he found, but we need to see the evidence,” Owen said. “As you’ve been a part of this investigation, and with what happened earlier, it makes sense you’d want to know what’s found.”

“Appreciate that.”

“If what Dean’s described is true, it won’t be easy to watch,” Owen said, cringing.

Clara lifted her chin. “No one has more at stake than I do. I deserve to know the truth.”

Heath rested a hand at the back of her chair, her silky strands brushing against his fingers. “You heard her. She stays, which I’m guessing mean that Elsie does, too. They both know what they can handle.”

“I’ll mute it,” Dean said, leaning over the keyboard. “No need to hear what’s going on.”

Nausea pitched in Heath’s stomach. If Dean was concerned with making sure the women didn’t hear what came across the screen, there were limited options to what he’d found. Especially if Mitch had gone to such lengths to hide what had been on his thumb drive.

“It’s up.” Dean’s face hardened into a mask of hatred, and he took a step backward.

Owen rounded the desk and sucked in a sharp breath. “Sick bastard. Clara, you can testify that this is Mitch’s computer?”

Clara latched her hand with Elsie’s. “Of course.”

Owen flicked his gaze to Heath. “You don’t have to see this if you don’t want.”

He glanced down at Clara. Her eyes were wide and filled with questions—filled with fear. What was on that screen might haunt him for the rest of his life, but he’d gladly take a bullet for her. Gladly shield her from seeing something she’d never forget by seeing himself.

Steeling his nerves, he gave her a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder then joined Owen in front of the screen.

And what he saw was enough to make him want to kill a man.

* * *

Children.

Scared and abused children. Tortured and battered, used and mistreated for what? Entertainment? Perversion? Profit?

She might not have seen what was on the computer with her own eyes, but Heath had told her enough to make her sick. And now she couldn’t stop wondering if he’d laid a hand on one of her babies.

There wasn’t a word in Clara’s vocabulary that could accurately describe what Mitch had downloaded on his computer. It didn’t matter if it was for his twisted entertainment or if he played a hand in creating this nightmare, there was a special place in hell for anyone involved in the fate of those innocent children.

And if one of those kids was her own, she’d give anything to be the one to stick the final nail in his coffin.

But there was nothing she could do except head back to the shelter with Elsie and Dean and wait.

Mrs. Collins opened the front door before they reached it and spread her arms wide.

A sob caught in Clara’s throat, and she fell against the older woman, melting into the gentle embrace.

“Come on inside, sweet girl,” Mrs. Collins said, guiding her into the foyer. “I have a fire going. The perfect place for a chat. Elsie, Dean, do you want to join us?”

Dean stood next to Elsie with his arm hooked snugly around her shoulder. “It’s up to you, babe. I’m wiped, but we can stay if you want. Or I can leave you to talk and come back to pick you up.”

Elsie leaned against him, her own exhaustion clear as the bags hanging under her hazel eyes. “I think I’d rather go home with you, if that’s okay with Clara.”

“Of course.” She peeled herself away from Mrs. Collins long enough to hug Elsie then gave Dean a quick squeeze. “Thank you for everything. Both of you. I’ll let you know if I hear anything from Heath.”

They said their goodbyes then Clara followed Mrs. Collins into the library. She fell into the comfortable couch, wishing she could disappear into the plush cushions.

Mrs. Collins placed the baby monitor on the coffee table then settled in beside her. “Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head. “Unless you can tell me how I was ever stupid enough to get caught up with such a horrible man, I don’t think there’s anything you can give me right now.”

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