Claiming Sarah (Ace Security #5)(70)

“After a game, the kitchen needs to be cleaned,” she said firmly, testing him.

Owen pouted, but nodded.

“And your toys are everywhere. It would be easy to trip and fall over them.”

His eyes got wide. “It hurts when I fall and hurt my knees.”

Sarah nodded, and her hopes rose. She’d noticed that the man-boy did almost anything she told him to. He’d gone to bed when she told him to. He brought her whatever she requested, and when she did have to use the restroom earlier, he’d carried her easily, left her alone when she’d told him to, and carried her back to the couch.

If she did have to be there long enough for her ankle to heal, maybe she could eventually convince him to take her into town . . . there had to be something close. He’d said that he’d gone shopping. If she could get him to take her with him, she could find someone to help her, or maybe they’d recognize her. She knew that Cole and Ace Security had probably plastered her face all over the news.

If she could only get out of this cabin, she could be saved. She knew it.



Cole stared at the papers strewn across the table. He’d looked at them until his eyes had crossed, and he was no closer to finding Sarah than he’d been five days ago.

Five days. God. He’d been so sure they’d figure out where Owen had taken Sarah in a few hours. He’d been so sure that with Owen’s low IQ, he’d never be able to hide for long. But they’d been wrong.

Cole hadn’t slept more than an hour here and there. How could he when he had no idea if Sarah was sleeping?

He hadn’t eaten anything other than what Felicity and the others had forced on him. How could he when he had no idea if Sarah was being fed?

He hadn’t showered and didn’t care if he stunk. How could he enjoy that luxury when he had no idea what conditions Sarah was living in?

The only reason his gym was still running was because of Felicity. She’d taken over without prompting.

But Cole didn’t care about that either. He didn’t care if he lost every penny of his savings; he only wanted Sarah back in his arms, safe and sound.

Even the police were losing hope. He’d heard it in the detective’s voice the last time he’d come into the offices to talk with all of them. The police thought Sarah was probably dead. In most cases, kidnappers almost always killed their victims after a few days of holding them in captivity. But Cole had a feeling that wasn’t the case with Sarah. He felt it in his bones.

If not for the support of the Anderson brothers, he knew he’d have gone crazy by now. Logan and the others had been tireless in their quest to find Owen. Ryder had even contacted his mysterious ex-handler down in Colorado Springs for help.

But they hadn’t found hide nor hair of the man . . . or Sarah.

They’d looked over every gift the man had left for her. Thanks to her pictures and notes, they’d had a thorough list. From the cookbook, jewelry, and even clothes, to the notes he’d written to her . . . nothing had stuck out, and every lead they’d followed had been a dead end. There had been boxes and boxes of papers found in Aubrey Montrone’s house, and they’d at least glanced at them all, but it had been impossible to read every single one word for word. The woman had been a pack rat, and finding the one needle in the haystack that would lead to wherever Owen was holed up was turning out to be impossible.

Nathan was sitting at his desk, his eyes glued to his computer as he continued his search. Logan was on the phone with a reporter, and Blake was organizing a search party to continue looking around the neighborhood where Sarah’s house was located.

The women were at Grace’s house. Sarah’s kidnapping had brought back Grace’s own nightmares of her son being taken, so she hadn’t wanted to be separated from her babies. Cole couldn’t blame her. So the women had started spending their days at her house. Keeping her company and doing what they could to help in the search from there. They had a few boxes from the Montrone house and were sifting through them much more thoroughly than their men had time to do.

Ryder was sitting across the table from Cole, staring down at more papers they’d looked at a hundred times before.

Cole stared almost sightlessly at the mess in front of him. He felt like shit, but nothing seemed to matter as long as Sarah was missing. He’d promised. He’d told her that if she ever disappeared, he’d find her. And here he was, sitting on his ass while she was hidden, possibly going through hell.

Sighing, he blindly reached for the nearest piece of paper and forced himself to focus. The answer was here . . . somewhere. He just had to be awake enough to find it.

Cole wasn’t an investigator. He was just a guy who liked to work out and had somehow been lucky enough to make a living at it. But he’d learned a lot by watching and paying attention to the Andersons. They’d looked at things he wouldn’t have thought twice about. They’d taught him to question everything.

Not only that, but they’d had a long discussion about Owen’s mental status. He was basically a kid. And kids thought differently than adults did. If Cole was going to find Sarah, he had to think like Owen. Which was extremely tough, because looking at the asshole in a picture they’d taken from the Montrone home made it hard to remember he was developmentally disabled. His large stature and scruffy beard made him look like a middle-aged man who could, and would, hurt anyone who stood between him and what he wanted.