Page 77 of Off the Grid
Henry Waineright.
She’d seen him in their office maybe once or twice during the annualTake Your Daughter to Workday. He’d never come around the house and she’d never been invited to business events—they weren’t for kids. When her father was arrested, she’d stolen a picture that had been sitting on the desk in his study, a photo of the two of them when they’d first opened their business. They’d been young—it was from before she was born. But she’d wanted to remember the face of the man her father believed had betrayed him.
What new evidence could there possibly be?
McKenzie dug through the box in search of that old photo, as though somehow it held all the answers the attorneys and the reporters had never had the chance to uncover.
The moment she saw it, she gasped.
It can’t be.
It’s not possible.
And yet, she knew it in her gut. His brown hair had been white. His pale skin had been tan. His muscles had long since wilted. But his eyes were the same—a brown so deep they were almost black. She’d never forget those eyes.
McKenzie dropped the photo.
Oh my God. He’s the man who kidnapped me.
He’s the man from the garage.
He’s—
A knock pounded against her door, loud and demanding.
“Delivery!”
The voice was muffled and gruff.
I’m not expecting anything.
Panic zipped down her spine. McKenzie ran to the living room and grabbed her phone, no longer caring about her apprehensions.
It was already ringing.
Somehow, she knew exactly who it was. “Leo?”
“McKenzie! Listen to me—”
“Leo, someone’s here.”
That fist slammed against her door again.
“What? What do you mean?”
The banging intensified.
“Someone’s trying to—”
The door crashed in and she screamed.
- 27 -
Leo
“McKenzie!” he shouted into the phone. No one answered. He heard thudding boots and a scream, then heavy breathing. “McKenzie!”
Nothing.
