Page 7 of Faith's Redemption

I’m not sure how long I sat there as the sound of sirens blared in the distance, agonizing over feeling useless, sure I was too late. Wondering how in the hell to find her. I tried to find a way to pray, but the words were lost as I’d forgotten who God was long ago and I was sure he’d forgotten about me, too.

Realizing it was stupid to just sit there, I moved to stand, my gaze falling on her small trash can. It was literally the only item in the room not upturned. Something about that struck me as odd. I picked it up and found several wads of paper, two of them obviously having been straightened and re-wadded. I opened them and scanned the contents.

Information on wills, probate, and executors.

A trip itinerary to Charlotte, North Carolina, complete with car rental, hotel, another random street address handwritten in the margin, and a one-way flight out of New Orleans leaving—now.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

Charlotte.

Not a person, a place. They’d seen this, too, and knew where she was going.

A one-way ticket.

“Faith, baby, what are you doing?”

I dropped my head back and stared at the ceiling as I realized Guidry wouldn’t be talking to Pittman about enlisting my help. He was going after her himself.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I growled.

I had two options—go to the cops or beat them to her and protect her myself.

Back on her front landing, I closed and locked the door behind me, stopping short at the glow in the distance. Over the trees, a house fire a few blocks away was struggling against the water, fighting to survive. A house all alone on a street that I knew well.

The old McMasters house.

I frowned, a thousand questions roaring through my head as my heart crammed into my throat. There were no coincidences. They were trying to scare her.

I bolted for the stairs as my only option crystallized in my mind.

Find her.

Now.

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