Page 72 of Knight's Journey

Her fists beat at the arm holding her, and she struggled to no avail to escape.

“Bridget, calm down. You can’t go in there. We’re still securing the scene.”

“Brick, put me down. They’re here somewhere. I have to find them. They’re counting on me. I can’t let them down. I can’t.”

Her words spilled from her mouth in a random order of gibberish which stopped making sense to anyone but her. Panic seized her, and she started begging to be released. Brick adjusted his hold until he pinned her arms to her side.

“Stop struggling before you hurt yourself. They’re not here. We’ve looked.”

“But Marlowe sent the beacon. They’re here. I know they’re here. Please! We have to keep searching. They are counting on us to find them.”

“Bridget, we think Singer moved them after Marlowe sent the beacon. Zane went after Singer on his own, so we need to help him out. Once we have Singer in custody, we can get him to tell us where he moved them to.”

“What if they’re hurt? What if he never tells us where they are, and we lose them for good? I can’t tell you how I know, but Iknowthey’re here. I know if they had been moved, they would have found a way to get word to us. My kids are brilliant and resourceful and awesome. I can’t give up on them. Please don’t make me give up on them. You guys go after Zane. I’ll stay and search for the others.”

Twisting her around without loosening his hold, he stared at her for several minutes. She used her eyes to plead with him to understand. She didn’t have a mother’s bond with her niece and nephew, but she believed she would know if they weren’t close by. She believed she would know if something worse had happened to them.

Brick raised his voice to carry over the yard to where some of the others stood. “Jay, can you and Alpha handle back-up for Zane? I need Delta to help do another sweep of the premises. I want to be sure we didn’t miss anything.”

“Copy that,” Jay agreed. “Alpha, let’s head out.”

Bridget almost collapsed in relief. “Listen, around the foundation to the house, did you notice if there was a door or a grate or something? There was this case of abuse back where I used to live. The kids were kept in this underground crawl space. Could there be something like that here which you might have missed?”

Brick gazed over her head to address the men who were left behind. “Fan out. Check for any crawl space or hidden trap door—anything we could have missed. Leave nothing unsearched.”

Bridget started to follow behind them, but Brick held her fast. “Let them look. You need to take a moment. When we find them, they need you to be strong.”

She nodded. “I know, but I don’t think I can. I’ve never been so frightened in my life.”

“But everything you do is for those kids, and you do a damn good job. You can do this, and if you feel like you can’t, you lean on me. Got it?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I got it. Just find them. I can’t lose my kids too. Zane and his sisters can’t lose their mother. This cannot end in tragedy. Not today.”

He nodded. “Come on. You’re with me.”

He grabbed her hand, and they ran toward the house. Some were inside, and some were outside, walking the space slow enough to study every nook and cranny. She saw nothing that could lead to a space where they were being held. Each minute that ticked by left her spiraling.

“Come on.” Brick tugged her hand. “These guys have the house covered. I want to check the garage. Kat said the heat signatures could indicate Maggie and the kids were in there. If there is a hidden spot somewhere, it could be in there.”

She ran after him, her legs barely keeping up with his long strides. She drew up short once inside, but she wasn’t quick enough to avoid bumping into an old car in the center of the garage. She stumbled and fell right on her ass, anhummpffescaping her throat.

“Bridget!” Brick called, turning to come back and help her up, but she waved him away.

“I’m good. Just look.”

Then she saw it, lying under the bumper of the car on the ground. The white plastic guitar pick. Leaning back, she stretched her arm as far as she could and used her fingertips to push it closer to her until she could grasp it in her hand. She pulled it up in front of her face and almost sobbed at the red logo printed on it, too worn and faded to be legible. But Bridget knew exactly what it said.

“Brick!” she shouted. “We need to move this car. I think it’s covering something up.”

“How do you know?” He appeared at the back of the car, peering over the trunk at her.

She held up the guitar pick. “This is from Abernathy’s Guitar Store in Atlanta. It belonged to Dean, and Mat carries it around. He’s never without it. I found it under the car.”

Brick pulled her to her feet, instructing her to wait off to the side. He squeezed behind the wheel, reaching underneath the steering column for a few minutes before the car fired to life. He threw it in reverse and backed it slowly out of the garage. Once the car passed her, Bridget moved to the front, searching the floor for a sign of…anything. It wasn’t long before Brick joined her. His thick-sole boots stomped the floor. She didn’t ask why. She trusted he knew what he was doing, and whatever he was doing would give a clue as to how to find their family.

Then she heard the noise, different from the racket Brick was creating. She caught his arm with her hand and placed a finger to her lips to stop him. Once the garage was quiet, they could better hear the softtap, tap, tapwhich caught her attention. She glanced at him then dropped her gaze to her feet. Nothing about the floor seemed anything but solid cement, and her heart caught in her throat.

Please don’t let them have been buried alive!

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