Bred in the Bone (Widow's Island #4)(16)

Tessa nodded and took several deep breaths. “Samantha,” she said, her voice calm. “We were told you were dead.” Tears choked her words. “All these years we didn’t know what happened to you . . . and here you are . . . ” Tessa spotted the chain and yanked on its attachment to the floor. “What the fuck? Get some bolt cutters. Now.”

One of the men left.

Samantha watched him leave from behind her fingers, fear in her eyes.

“Henry,” said Cate, a suspicion dawning. “Can you guys step outside?”

The men left, and Sam lowered her hands. Cate tentatively took one, and Sam didn’t resist. She gently squeezed Sam’s fingers. “It’s over, honey. It’s all over.”

“I’m not dreaming?” The words barely audible.

“Not a dream,” stated Tessa. “We’re getting you out of here.”

“Where is he?” Sam whispered.

“Who are you talking about?” Cate asked slowly.

“Him.” Sam swallowed. “The commander.”

“Sam . . . are you talking about Travis Underwood?” Cate couldn’t breathe.

Confusion and then comprehension crossed Samantha’s eyes, and she gave the smallest nod.

Cate exhaled and heard Tessa do the same. Travis is behind this. He lied to his mother.

Sam went rigid. “Mickey! Where is Mickey? If the commander—”

“Mickey is right outside,” said Tessa. “He was upset that we entered this building, but he’s fine.”

Sam grabbed Cate’s arm, her eyes feral. “You’ve got to keep him away from the commander. If he discovers someone found me, he’ll hurt Mickey.”

Shock rocked through Cate. “Is Mickey your son?” she whispered, thinking of the boy’s red hair.

“He’s my baby.”

Did she give birth to him in this shed? Cate’s heart mourned for her friend’s pain.

“Mickey is with two police officers, and more are on the way,” Cate assured her. “No one will hurt him without going through them.”

“You don’t know the commander,” Sam whispered. “He will kill to get what he wants. Nothing can stop him.” She released Cate’s arm and started to quietly cry.

Tessa stood and left the shed, but Cate wouldn’t let go of Samantha’s hand. She’d finally found her; she wasn’t letting go. She let the woman cry and gently stroked her hand. They would get her and Mickey out of here before Travis came back.

Samantha has a son.

Cate ached to melt into the ground and sob along with Samantha, but she shoved away her emotions. Sam needed her strong.

“Watch out.” Tessa had returned, the bolt cutters in her hands. She clamped them on the chain and snapped it in half adjacent to Sam’s ankle. “Can you stand up, Samantha? It’s time to leave this place.”

Samantha raised her head and stared at the broken chain, her lips silently moving. Cate slid to one side as Sam shifted her legs over the edge of the bed and sat, her chest heaving with the effort.

Progress.

Sam tilted her head, her gaze shifting between the two women. “It’s really you? Cate . . . Tessa?” She stumbled over their names, as if the words were brand new to her vocabulary. Her eyes were still haunted, her eye contact hesitant. “My brain won’t let me believe it.”

She’s so thin.

“Yes. It’s us.” A thick lump formed in the back of Cate’s throat. “See?” She pulled her third of the sisters pendant out from under her sweater, holding it closer to Sam. “We didn’t forget you.”

Beside her Tessa did the same thing, and confusion filled Sam’s face as she looked from one necklace to the other.

She doesn’t remember.

Fresh hot tears ran down Cate’s cheeks. How much abuse had Sam endured?

Samantha’s hand shook as she touched her own bare neck. “Mine is gone.”

“No, we found it,” Tessa told her. “Finding your necklace is what led us here.”

Cate dug in the pocket of her jeans. She’d grabbed Samantha’s restored necklace that morning, wanting a piece of Samantha with her when her killer was captured.

Travis didn’t kill her.

Or did he?

She held the shiny necklace out with one finger, and Samantha stared at it in wonder.

Then Samantha crumpled into herself and melted into sobs.



Henry watched as the backup they’d requested pulled into the clearing at the Underwood property, his mind still reeling over finding Cate’s friend.

“This is insane,” McClure said. “I thought Samantha Bishop was dead. Are they sure it’s her?”

Henry had never been so certain of anything. “I’m positive.”

“So the guy they believed killed her has been holding her captive for two decades?”

“Sure looks that way.”

“Where is the asshole?” McClure scanned the property as if Travis Underwood were hiding close by. “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. He had her chained up like a dog.” He shook his head. “I’m going to help Gunderson update the new guys.”

Henry looked back at the shed as McClure left, wondering if Cate and Tessa were getting through to Samantha. Like Mickey she was clearly malnourished—worse than the boy, it appeared. When body weight dropped below a certain level, the brain struggled to function properly. And who knew how long Samantha had been at that low weight. She could have permanent brain and organ damage if Travis had starved her the way Henry suspected he had.