in relocating victims to new lives. The people were in transition and most didn’t stay too long, but rather were eager to get as far away from Samuel and Cold Plains, Wyoming, as quickly as possible.
He now leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee, his thoughts on the newest members of the house. “If she’ll talk to Hawk and some of the other FBI agents, then we could potentially get an arrest warrant for Samuel for the murder she witnessed,” he said. “We’d have a reason to get inside his house, maybe find some real concrete evidence to put him away forever.”
“I wouldn’t push her too hard,” June warned. “She seemed pretty fragile.”
“This whole situation is fragile,” Micah replied drily. “We have five murdered woman that were all tied in one way or another to Cold Plains and Samuel. We have enough additional dead bodies to fill an entire cemetery.”
“And missing children and people with disabilities who seem to have vanished into midair,” Darcy added, her hauntingly blue eyes darkening.
Micah frowned and took a sip of his coffee. Aside from the murdered women, this was one of the most disturbing things about this case. The streets were filled with only attractive, robust people seemingly not only physically fit but mentally well. There was no sickness, no imperfections of any kind and those who showed signs of either disappeared and were never seen again.
“There are rumors that those people are held in secret rooms or basements, prisoners for the good of the town. The worst part is the children,” Darcy said. “I think we’ve all heard the rumors of children who are born with slight ‘defects’ or deemed unworthy in some way and are hidden away someplace in town and eventually adopted out.”
Her face displayed a myriad of emotions and Micah suspected she was thinking of Rafe Black’s missing son. Was he hidden in some secret location in town or had he already been adopted out by Samuel for a huge fee to a couple in another state, another country, desperate for a child?
“Of course, we don’t have to worry about anything now that the FBI have arrested some of Samuel’s henchmen and they’ve confessed to the murders of some of the women,” June said sarcastically.
Micah snorted. “They might have confessed to being the ones who actually pulled the triggers, but they still refuse to give up Samuel as the brains. Until we can cut off the head of the snake, nobody is safe and we’ll never know for sure who in town we can trust.” He knew that a man and a woman had been arrested by the FBI and had confessed to some of the murders of the women, but they’d refused to name the man who had given them the orders to commit the crimes.
Once again his thoughts turned to the pretty blonde now sleeping in the depths of the large cave. She was the key. She had the kind of solid information that could put Samuel behind bars.
All he had to do was figure out a way to force her to do the right thing.
Olivia awakened slowly, her brain fuzzy with residual dreams of her childhood. It had not been a particularly good upbringing and the dreams hadn’t been pleasant ones.
She’d grown up in a trailer park with her sickly mother who liked to drink. Olivia never knew if her mother was sick because she drank, or drank because she was sick. Her main memories of her youth were of too little food, too little heat and far too much responsibility.
Her mother died when she was twenty-two and Olivia had known two things: she wanted to get as far away from the trailer park as possible and she was desperate to build a different kind of life for herself.
Two children later, abandoned by her boyfriend on Main Street in Cold Plains, Olivia had embraced the town and thought she’d finally come home.
As she thought of that moment in the alley when she’d watched the man she’d believed was her salvation and mentor cold-bloodedly shoot the man in the alley, she had gasped and sat straight up, disoriented for a moment as she looked around.
The cave walls in this room were particularly smooth with a small outcropping of rock that made a natural stone bench against one wall. The small oil-burning lamp still flickered, creating a pool of illumination that allowed her to maneuver easily through the room.
Sam!
Thoughts of her youngest son shot her off the bed. She’d slept in the clothes June had graciously provided her, a pair of jeans, and a T-shirt that was a tad too small across her full breasts.
She knew her hair was probably in wild disarray, but the only thing that mattered at the moment was seeing Sam’s smiling face, assuring herself that he was okay.
She couldn’t even think about her three-year-old still someplace in Cold Plains. Ethan would probably be scared, needing his mommy and if she dwelled on that thought for too long she’d come completely undone. She had to keep it together, for Sam’s sake … for Ethan’s sake.
Racing into the room where she’d placed Sam in a crib the night before, she stopped short in the doorway as she saw that the crib was empty. She whirled around, running wildly down a corridor, wondering if perhaps she’d trusted the wrong people after all.
As she wound around corners and ran into blind passageways, her heart banged discordantly, making her half-breathless as she felt like Alice suddenly falling down a rabbit hole.
She whirled around one corner and slammed into a brick wall. The wall was Micah Grayson’s hard, muscled chest. “Whoa,” he said and grabbed her firmly by the shoulders.
“Where’s my son? Where’s Sam?” she asked.
He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “I just saw him in the kitchen eating some breakfast.”
A shudder of relief swept through her. “Where’s the kitchen? This place is like a maze.”
He pointed down the nearest passageway. “Go straight and take the left turn. You’ll be in the kitchen.”
As her panic ebbed, she once again noticed that Micah Grayson wasn’t just hard and dangerous looking, but also handsome and sexy in a way that might have affected her under different circumstances.
“Thanks,” she said and started to move past him, but he reached out and grabbed her arm before she could scurry away.
“I’d like to speak with you later … after you get some breakfast and settle in.” His hand was big … weighty on her forearm.
She frowned. She couldn’t imagine what he might want to talk to her about and, if she were perfectly honest with herself, she would admit that something about him unsettled her more than a little bit. All she really wanted to do was make sure Sam was safe and then figure out some sort of plan to return to Cold Plains and retrieve Ethan.
She wasn’t interested in whatever investigation they were conducting in the town. She just wanted to have her children safe and with her and then she’d go from there.
“Olivia?”
Her name sounded strange on his lips, reminding her that she knew nothing about this man, these people and the touch of his big hand on her arm felt too warm, oddly intimate.
She pulled away from him and took a step backward. “Obviously I’m not going anyplace but the kitchen for the time being. You can find me there after breakfast.”
This time when she turned to walk away he didn’t stop her although she imagined she could feel his piercing green eyes lingering on her back.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she entered the kitchen where June sat at the table with her coffee and Sam was locked into a high chair happily smooshing scrambled eggs into his mouth.
“Mama!” he exclaimed with a happy eggy grin as she entered the room.
“Sammy,” she replied and planted a kiss on the top of his forehead. She offered a tentative smile to June. “I had a moment of panic when I woke up and didn’t find him in his crib.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.