Page 77 of Lacey's Fight

“She has her bag and towel with her,” Graham “Hollywood” Caverly said. “So whatever happened to her either happened now with the old lady or immediately afterward.”

“She could have gone back down to the beach again,” Aspen “Blade” Carlisle suggested.

“If she’s worried about the old lady she wouldn’t have gone back down,” Hollywood said.

“She didn’t,” Olivia said, her voice tight.

As he watched on the screen, Lacey helped the woman over to a black van parked in the furthest corner of the parking lot. Just as Lacey went to open the driver’s door the side door of the van opened, and arms snaked out.

Forced to watch in horror as his sunflower was snatched from the parking lot and dragged into the back of the van, Ben felt his entire body go taut.

Ready to snap at a moment’s notice.

Preferably when the man who had stolen his woman was standing in front of him.

Ben had never had an opportunity to face down the man who had killed Jemima, but he would love that chance to take down Lacey’s abductor.

Painfully.

And slowly.

“It has to be The Master,” Pearl growled, looking as furious as he felt. “But who’s the old woman?”

Olivia’s fingers flew across her keyboard so fast they were almost a blur and he prayed she got them all the answers they needed.

The Master had gone unpunished long enough. Not only was it clear that he intended to keep abducting more little girls to replace Lacey and her sisters, but he was a constant reminder of all that they’d lost.

“Oh my …” Olivia trailed off as she looked at her screen.

“What, honey?” Eagle didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“I got a hit on the license plate. The van is registered to a Mable Matthewson. She has a son. The picture matches The Master. His name is Mervin Matthewson. The Master is Mervin Matthewson.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

August 15th

4:59 A.M.

One moment she was slumbering restlessly, the next, a shrill alarm was startling her awake.

Lacey blinked open sleepy eyes. She hadn’t gotten anywhere close to enough sleep. After tossing and turning as best as she could, still tied to the bed for what felt like hours, she had eventually drifted off.

That had to be all of maybe an hour or so ago and now she was being woken up again.

Part of The Master’s plan to break her.

Only unlucky for him, she wasn’t some terrified child anymore who didn’t know better. Now she was an adult, a highly trained adult, who was going to do whatever it took to get herself and those little girls out of here.

After she killed The Master.

“Rise and shine, my beauty.”

His overly cheerful voice made her cringe. Not so much because she knew he was trying to annoy her, or even because the sound seemed to reverberate inside her head like a gang of wasps, but because she suddenly realized how awful fake cheerfulness could be.

How many times had she pretended that all was perfect in her world and sounded as fake as The Master did right now?

Too many to count.

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