Page 45 of The Way Back Home
The others murmured their agreement.
Noah appreciated their support. He was trying to wrap his head around what he’d just seen. To see through the red haze that was clouding his own vision. To bank the sudden, violent rage burning him from the inside out, preferably by inflicting extreme pain and loss of body parts on those who had hurt her.
He’d known she’d seen the darker side of life, but he hadn’t expected this. Teagan hadn’t told him much about her past, and maybe this was why. He couldn’t step back, feign ignorance, and leave her to face her demons alone.
Nor could his brothers. It just wasn’t in their DNA. Ziegler men protected their own and those they cared about.
“It had to be someone close. Someone who”—he closed his eyes and took a breath—“for whatever reason, felt compelled to do this.”
“That would be her stepfather,” Adam said, referencing one of the earlier articles. “Her mother died when she was five. The first reports ofaccidentsappearshortly afterward, starting with a supposed topple from a barn loft.”
Five. Fucking hell. Her stepfather—if he was still alive—was a dead man.
Alex’s fingers ghosted over the keys. “The latest link is a video from about five years ago.”
“Play it,” Noah commanded, bracing himself, knowing it was going to be bad.
Alex clicked the play button and full-screened the image. A blonde reporter, dressed in a stylish coat and matching hat, spoke into the camera, her expression one of dramatic concern.
The color drained from Noah’s face as he recognized the setting. The reporter stood in front of Miller’s Diner in downtown Saughannock. Noah sank into the chair next to Alex, afraid that his legs would no longer support him.
“It has been five years since local teen Teagan McKenna disappeared mysteriously from Saughannock General Hospital,” the woman began. “While authorities refuse to comment publicly, most of the people this reporter spoke with do not believe she could have survived. There are some, however, who continue to hold out hope.”
The woman turned to a young man, ruggedly handsome with strong, masculine features, in a camouflage coat. His eyes were dark and compelling; his shaggy dark hair hung down past his brows.
Noah hated him immediately.
“Josh Graner is one of those who continues tosearch for the missing girl. Josh, why do you believe she is still out there somewhere?”
Graner’s expressions were practiced and perfect, the look of concern in his eyes flawless, as if he had rehearsed them until he had them just right. He looked soulfully at the reporter, and her features softened visibly.
“I know Teagan is still alive because I feel it here.” He touched his chest, his hands covered in fingerless gloves.
“What a fucking poser,” Alex murmured.
A low growl of agreement rumbled in the back of Noah’s throat.
“You and Teagan were close then?” the reporter asked, obviously touched by his words.
“We grew up together, took care of one another,” he said. “I feel sick every time I think about what happened …”
“You’re referring to the brutal beating at the hands of her stepfather?”
Graner nodded, looking tormented. “I never should have taken that scholarship. I should have been here with Teagan, watching out for her. I knew her stepfather was no good.” He averted his eyes, as if he didn’t want to be caught crying on camera.
“Why do you think no one has seen or heard from Teagan in all this time, Josh?”
Graner’s hands curled into fists. “I swear to God, I wish I knew. The doctors say it’s entirely possible she doesn’t even know who she is. Her injuries were sosevere. I don’t think she could have left the hospital on her own.”
“So, you believe foul play was involved?”
“There’s no doubt in my mind,” Graner answered firmly. “Teagan would never have left unless she believed there was no other way. Maybe she had been drugged, or threatened, or …” He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. But I know she’s out there, waiting for me to find her and bring her home.” At this point, Graner turned to the camera. “Teagan, if you can hear me, I love you, baby, and I won’t rest until I have you back home safe again.”
A phone number flashed up on the screen, along with the picture Alex had found in the Saughannock yearbook. The reporter urged anyone with information to call.
“Please,” Graner pleaded. “Someone out there knows something. Help me bring my girl home. I won’t stop until she’s back where she belongs.I’ll never stop.”
The words sounded more like a threat than a promise.
