Page 106 of Serial Burn

“I assure you, it is. There’s no one in there.”

He headed inside and scanned the area. Still and dark. And maybe still smoldering in some places. Dank in others.

But definitely empty.

He yanked his phone from his pocket and dialed her number.

It went straight to voicemail. He spun and stepped back out into the fresh air. “Andrew!”

Andrew looked up from talking with one of the firefighters. “What is it?”

“She’s gone. He’s got her.” He thought fast, searching his mind for the next best step, trying to keep the panic at bay. He pressed a hand to his mouth and turned his gaze on his partner. “We’ve got to find her fast.” What if it was too late? Why take her when the guy had been trying to kill her? Why not just shoot her and run?

Morbid speculation that made his heart ache, but valid questions nevertheless.

He sent a group text.

Jesslyn’s been taken. Need your help.

Within seconds, his phone started blowing up. He tapped another message.

That’s just a heads-up. Stay tuned for the plan.

Andrew scrubbed a hand over his chin. “Okay, Jess thought there was someone in her old neighborhood that would give her a clue about who her father was spending time with. Maybe we should chase that lead hard and fast.”

“That’s going to take time,” Nathan said. “Time Jess may not have.”

“I’ll get everyone on it. We’ve got the best resources in the world at our fingertips. We’ll use all of them.”

Nathan nodded. “And I’m going to have to call her aunt Carol. She’s not going to take this well.”

“Who would?”

“Yeah.” He found her number and dialed.

TWENTY-SIX

A groan woke Jesslyn. She tried to raise a hand to her throbbing head only to discover both hands were cuffed in front of her. She also realized the sound had come from her. What—

She sat up with effort, her gaze scanning the area, swallowing hard against the bile working its way up the back of her throat. She was in ... an office? There was a desk with a chair in front of the far wall. Two wingback chairs faced the desk. She rolled her head the other way and spotted a door. With a floor-to-ceiling rectangular window next to it. The blinds were closed. And she washot. Was she sick again?

She shook herself and took inventory.

No. She had her fire gear on except for her helmet and gloves.

Memories came flickering back.

The fire scene, the guy dressed in matching gear. The struggle. The pinch in her wrist. Then ... what?

She had nothing.

It was a complete blank.

Panic wanted to scramble her thoughts and she fought to keep the fear under control. “Oh Lord, help,” she whispered. She was going to be sick.

She rolled to her feet in desperate search of a bathroom and spotted it right next to her. She raced to the toilet and lost what was in her stomach.

Then sank onto the blue-and-white tile floor.

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