Shattered (LOST #3)(47)

“What happened to the man who took Molly?” Emma asked.

He glanced around the scene. So many cops. So many firefighters.

“Did he burn in the blaze?”

Jax shook his head. No, the end hadn’t been nearly that simple. Not for the freak they were looking for. “He’s still out there.” He stared at the fire. Burning so bright. “And he isn’t done.”

“How do you know that?” Emma’s soft voice followed him.

He focused on Sarah. “Because he doesn’t have what he wants, not yet.” You never will. I’ll make sure you don’t hurt her.

Another attack would come. They would be ready for it.

HOSPITALS. THEY ALWAYS reminded Sarah of death. Far too much of death. She’d stayed out at that scene with the detectives, answering their questions again and again. The fires had been extinguished. The area searched. But there had been no sign of the man who abducted Molly Guthrie.

Now, exhausted, body aching, voice too husky from the flames and the smoke, Sarah was pacing in the hospital waiting room. Dean and Emma had gone to the hospital earlier. They’d been calling to give her updates.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to update on.

Molly had gone into surgery. The guy’s attack had been brutal. The doctors had done their best to stitch up Molly and stabilize her, but she’d lost so much blood. She was unconscious now, and the doctors were monitoring her closely. She couldn’t talk to the cops or to Sarah about who’d hurt her. She couldn’t even open her eyes.

So the man who’d attacked Molly could be walking down the main streets in New Orleans. He could be planning another abduction . . .

And there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

“This is a win, Sarah.” She jumped at the voice and turned to see Victoria standing in the doorway. Her friend’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and the light glinted off Victoria’s glasses. “You found Molly. You saved her.”

Wearily, Sarah shook her head. “They don’t know if she’s even going to last the night.” And that made her heart ache. “She survived until the end, but, Viki . . .” Sarah crossed toward her, exhaling softly. “He did a number on her.” So many cuts. So much pain.

Victoria’s fingers closed around Sarah’s. “She made it out. You got her out.”

“No.” She couldn’t take credit. She hadn’t carried Molly through the fire and down all of those stairs. “Jax got her out. He did this.”

Victoria blinked. “What?”

“There’s more to him than just the stories you hear.”

“There’s always more,” Victoria allowed. “More good and more bad. That’s something you and I both know.”

Yes, they did. Because Victoria’s past was filled with blood and tragedy and death, too. Victoria had learned, early on, that love could be a mask for evil. A mask that hid true intent so very well.

“He knows my father,” Sarah confided to Victoria. “The man who took Molly . . . he’s connected to my dad.”

“How?” Victoria asked her.

“I don’t know.” And, since she didn’t know who the perp was . . . that meant only one other person could tell her. “But I will find out.” She’d already talked to Gabe. He was pulling the files on the families of Murphy’s victims—victims they knew about. But the cops had been able to pin only a few of the crimes on her father. Sarah knew there were other bodies out there.

If they can’t find the body, then there’s no crime. You have to be smarter than the cops. Don’t ever give them anything. Make them work for the job.

She swallowed as her father’s words replayed in her mind. “Once I know that Molly is safe, I’m going to see him.”

“Sarah, no.”

She hadn’t seen her father in . . . no, she didn’t want to think about the last time she’d seen him. “Maybe Molly can ID the guy. Maybe it won’t matter and I—I won’t have to see him.” Because her father terrified her.

Not because he was a monster. She knew that, with utter certainty.

A monster who would never hurt me. But, to her father, the rest of the world was more than fair game.

No, he scared her because . . . I hate him. She hated the man who’d murdered and tortured so brutally. A man who’d rightfully earned the moniker of Murphy the Monster.

But . . . I love him. She still remembered when he taught her to ride her bike. When he lifted her up to put the star on the Christmas tree. When he would take her camping and they would eat roasted marshmallows under the stars . . .

All before she’d learned the truth.

“I want to check on Wade,” Sarah said. “See how he’s doing.”

Victoria’s hands slid away from Sarah’s. “He’s getting frustrated. You know, typical Wade. The guy is more than ready to bust out of here, but the docs want to keep him for observation.”

Sarah and Victoria slipped from that waiting room and started walking down the hallway.

“I thought I’d have to tie him to the bed,” Victoria confided with a shake of her head. “And then—” Her words ended abruptly because she’d just seen the three big, tattooed men who were waiting around the corner. Men who immediately stood when they saw Sarah.