True Colors (The Masks #1)(59)

“You’re right. Good idea.” Libby’s head bobbed.

I drove one block down the road and parked at the beach. It was a really quiet beach that hardly anyone came to. I looked out across the rippling water and smooth sand. They were in complete contrast to my roaring emotions. I wanted them to make me calmer and fill me with a sense of peace, something nature normally did, but this time I was turning away from it. Walking from a serene sanctuary into a potential hell pit. Okay, slightly dramatic, I suppose, but I had no idea what would be waiting for us at the Swanson house and no part of my brain could convince me it’d be good.

*****

It took us five minutes to walk back up the hill to Indie’s place. We didn’t talk the entire way, but I read Libby a couple of times. She was petrified, her skin so pale it was almost blue. She clenched and unclenched her fingers as she puffed her way up the driveway and then I thought she’d actually stopped breathing for a second when we reached Micah’s car. We ducked behind it, peeking into the windows. It was unlocked, but the keys weren’t in the ignition. It looked as though they’d parked with the intention of only being a minute. That had been the intention, so why the hell was his car still here?

Libby nudged me and pointed to the front door then raised her hand in question.

I pinched my nose as I thought, unsure what to do. Libby’s idea of walking through the front door seemed ridiculous. I couldn’t shake the foreboding in my stomach.

“Let’s try around the back first,” I whispered.

Libby nodded and we scurried around the side of the three-car garage, looking for an entrance. We found a gate and lucky for us, it was unlocked. We snuck through and padded our way down the path until we reached the pool house. Peeking our heads out, we quickly scanned the pool area and then peered through the glass doors leading into the main living rooms.

We ducked back into hiding and leaned our heads against the wall.

“This is ridiculous. Who do we think we are, spies or something?”

Libby tittered with nervous giggles. I couldn’t help a small grin.

“We need to get into the house.”

“I know there’s a laundry room around the corner.” Libby pointed. “Carter took me past it last time we were here. It’s a back way to the upstairs bedrooms.”

“I guess that’s a good place to start.”

I followed Libby’s lead and soon found myself outside the laundry door. To our surprise it was also unlocked. Had these people not heard of security before?

We crept in and closed the door softly, just as my cell phone started singing “Kiss You.” I scrambled for it, turning it off before I could even check who was calling me. I turned to Libby with an apologetic wince as we listened for noises in the house. After a minute of silence, we found the courage to sneak out of the laundry and work our way upstairs. I don’t know what compelled us to start with the upstairs—most likely it was the fact that the stairs were right there—but I’m glad we did. Because behind the first door we found Micah...bound and bleeding.





Chapter 27




“Micah,” Libby choked out the word as she tripped into the room. His head shot up, his eyes wide and vehement. Blood had dripped from the laceration on his forehead, marking his face with dark, red smears. It had now dried and caked into his short black hair. If his limbs hadn’t been secured to the arms and legs of an office chair with coarse rope, he could have been mistaken for a madman killer.

Libby went to work on freeing his feet, while I gently pulled his gag free. “Micah, what happened?” I whispered.

With a grimace he licked his lips, his mouth sore from the gag. “Have you got Indie?”

“No, where is she?” I wrestled with the ropes around his wrists, finally pulling one free. He shook the rope off and tenderly checked out his wounded head. He looked slightly groggy and slow. Surely that blow to the head must have knocked him out. I wondered how bad his concussion was.

“We need to get to her.” His dark eyes flamed. I focused on undoing the tight knot binding his other wrist.

“Tell us what happened.” Libby pulled the ropes free of his feet and sat back.

“We were in the office, about to download the files.” Micah pointed at the big mahogany desk on the other side of the room. A laptop was open, the screen dancing with rainbow swirls, indicating the computer had been open a while. “Where’s the memory stick?”

Micah winced. “Indie must have it. She was just finding the files when I blacked out.” Micah touched the back of his head. I peered over his shoulder to see a second wound. “I didn’t even hear Liam come into the room. When I came to, I was tied to this chair. Indie was screaming at him to let me go. Liam was rabid. Going ballistic. Screaming at Indie that she was a cheating whore. He grabbed her by the hair and threw her towards the door.” Micah’s face bunched as he struggled with the words. “I tried to wrestle free and get to her, but then Liam smacked me over the head again.” He closed his eyes, looking sick as he fingered the cut on his forehead. “Do you think she’s okay?”

“We’ll find her, Micah. It’ll be okay.” I finally tugged the knot free and Micah wriggled out of his bindings, rubbing his chafed wrists. He lurched tall and made an attempt for the door. Two steps in, his legs turned to Jell-O and he had to catch himself against the wall.