Page 84 of Connor

“Okay. We’ll see you soon, Connor,” he says, ending the call, and I send a quick text to my team to arrange the flight before pocketing my cell.

“Would she be at Marie’s Place?” I ask my dad as it pops into my head.

“Nope. Victoria’s there already, and there’s no sign of her.”

My heart feels like it’s about to blow up as I pace around the parking lot, pulling at my hair. Some staff are already arriving, and I walk from the gate of the springs toward the distillery door, feeling like I need to retrace her steps or something.

Not wasting any precious moments, I look around, seeing the garden unbothered, and as I’m about to turn, I see a small sparkle hit my eye and pause. Walking closer, I bend down and pick it up.

Dread chills me down to my bones, anxiety crawling through my body like black tar.

“Dad!” I yell.

“What is it?” he shouts back as he runs over, and I hold up the silver daisy chain necklace that I found on the ground.

“This is Daisy's. Her mom gave it to her for her birthday. She never takes it off. Never,” I state, and we both look at it closely. “Is that…”

“Blood. I’ll call the sheriff,” Dad says quickly, and I think I lose the ability to breathe before I look up, spotting our security cameras on the side of the building.

“I need to see the cameras.” Placing the necklace into a clean tissue, I run up the stairs to my office, my dad right behind me, already talking to the local sheriff.

I race to my computer, bringing up the security feed. I rewind it until I spot some movement.

“There!” Dad yells in my ear, and I pause it, playing it back slowly. We see a van in the parking lot, not sure what time it arrived. With the party yesterday, we had so many cars coming and going all night, it would have been easy for it to come on-site. Our security when we travel or when we are in the city is tight. We have our own team that we use when we need to. But out here, in such a small town, where everyone knows everyone, we haven’t needed full guards or locked gates before.

“That’s her.” I spot her coming up through the gate from the springs, her hair wet, towel in her hand. So she did go to the springs for a swim this morning. Then she looks up sharply at a man I recognize stepping toward her.

“Who is that?” Dad asks.

“He’s been here before. I think it’s a supplier. Soren,” I say, because it definitely looks like him. But then the man turns, shoving something into her waist, and I freeze.

“Was that a gun?” I ask my dad, who’s looking over my shoulder. He leans closer because I can’t move my hands from where they’re gripping my desk, white-knuckled as fear takes over my body and we replay that part of the footage. The two of us watch intently, holding our breaths.

“Fuck,” Dad spits, and my anger now rises to join my fear and anxiety. I can’t see the man’s face, but as he moves, I notice his hair is a little different from the man I met in her office all those weeks ago. He’s also bigger and broader than I remember Soren being.

Pure terror takes over Daisy’s body language, and I watch her stumble into the van before he hits her. My teeth grind, my jaw tight as he throws her limp body into the van, slamming the door shut and driving off.

“Download the footage and send it to the team,” Dad says, and I move on autopilot.

“Who would want anything from Daisy?” he asks me, and I shake my head.

“I have no idea. She doesn’t know anyone here.” Downloading the footage, I send it out immediately to our team for facial recognition and any other trace elements we can find.

“What about her parents?” Dad asks. And I pause.

“The commune…” I say, thinking out loud. The kidnapper was wearing flowing cream linen clothing, nothing like the denim and button-down shirts most people around here wear. Long hair, earthy, nature-loving type profile.

“The what?” Dad asks, looking at me like I’m crazy.

“Daisy’s mom was raised in a commune not far away from here,” I tell him.

“Where?” he barks.

“I have no idea, but her parents will know.” Running my hand through my hair, I pull at the ends, wishing I knew more about it. But I know exactly who does, and they’re on my plane and going to be here within a few hours. So I send them the footage, hoping they have the answers we all need, before I call them to work out a location. At the moment, we don’t have much.

And I need my Daisy girl back.

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