Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Dear God,” Nicole says, covering her mouth with a trembling hand.
Livy jumps into action. “Here, Anya.” She takes her arm and leads her to a chair. “Sit down before you keel over. You need to be strong, understand?”
Trusting Livy to take care of Anya, I pat Rosemary’s cheek. She doesn’t react, but her skin isn’t cold like a corpse’s.
I feel her pulse.
It’s strong.
“What’s wrong with her?” I ask Nicole.
Nicole shoves me away and peels open one of Rosemary’s eyelids. “She’s knocked out good. I don’t see blood or obvious injuries.” She runs her fingers along the vertebrae at Rosemary’s nape before carefully checking her skull. “No head trauma.”
Dante arrives with two men in tow. He comes over while the men continue down the hallway.
I bark out an order. “Get the video feed from the security cameras outside.”
“Already done,” he says. “The feed is being sent to your phone as we speak.”
“Wake her up,” I tell Nicole.
Nicole straightens. “You need to call an ambulance.”
I get into her face. “No one leaves until we find Claire, so wake her up. Now.”
Nicole flinches at my volume, leaning away from me to escape the verbal outburst, but she doesn’t argue.
I walk to the nursery, my chest squeezing until I can’t breathe. The feeling I get when I look into that empty crib is something I can’t name. All I know is that I’ve never felt anything like it. It’s like claws digging my heart out of my chest. It’s like being in a vise that slowly tightens, like a flower that’s left to die and dry between the pages of a heavy book.
Fuck.
I feel her behind me. Anya.
I can’t look at her. I don’t have the courage. If I see the pain on her face, I won’t be able to tear myself away from her and do what must be done.
Reaching around me, I take her hand and pull her under my arm. I keep her close to me, giving her my strength as we stare at the empty bed where we left our daughter not three hours ago. Time is of the essence. Even as I comfort my wife, I take my phone from my pocket with my free hand and access the security app.
The video feed connects just as Dante pops his head around the door frame.
After a brief hesitation, he says, “The men did a first round of the house and the grounds. We’re going through every room more thoroughly now, looking in the less obvious hiding places.”
The part he leaves unsaid rings the loudest. They haven’t found her. She’s not here.
“Oh God,” Anya cries out in a broken whisper.
I turn her to me, holding her in a steel embrace with her head cradled against my chest. She wraps her arms around my waist and clings to me as if she’s never going to let go.
“Listen to me, Anya. I need you to go help Nicole. Get whatever she tells you from the medicine kit. We need Rosemary conscious.”
She nods, untangling her arms from my body. Every step she takes away from me is like a spike through my heart. But I can’t let her hear what I have to tell Dante. And what she needs right now is a task to stay busy.
I wait until she’s gone before delivering my instruction in a lowered voice. My tone is level-headed. It’s no indication of how torn up I am inside, of how my gut twists inside out. “Get an ultraviolet light. We need to scan for blood and body fluids.”
“Already on it,” he says with a deadly fury that burns in his brown eyes. “We’re keeping the guests in the tent under armed guard. The working staff are locked in the kitchen. I have a dedicated team questioning everyone in case someone saw or heard something. The rest of the men are combing through the yard and the house. I’m going back there to oversee the search.”
I nod, my throat tight with the emotions I push down. “Keep me posted.”
He disappears down the hallway. I linger another moment, taking in the stuffed toys and the story books Anya reads diligently to Claire. Clenching my hands into fists, I make a silent oath. I’m going to find my baby. I’m going to smoke the motherfucker who dared to take her out of the woodwork, and I’m going to snap his goddamn spine in two.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I walk with uneven steps back to the landing. Livy kneels in front of Rosemary, holding a gauze swab under her nose. Anya stands next to her with a bottle of household ammonia in her hand.
“Rosemary.” Nicole has two fingers on her pulse. “Open your eyes. Blink if you can hear me.”
Nothing.
The footage from the cameras comes through. I pace as I open the video file. The feed is clear. The security system sends a notification every time a person is detected outside, but we switched it off because of the party. Otherwise, our monitor would’ve blown up with notifications. I needed the guards to focus on any suspicious activity. Instead of being distracted by ten thousand pings for every caterer, waiter, and guest who crossed the threshold, the guards have orders to watch out for Raphael and his men. They’re equipped with face recognition software that’ll alarm them if a Morelli dares it onto my property. Every invitee received a printed invitation. A guard ticked off the names of the guests and checked their IDs as they arrived, which means we have a full inventory of everyone on site.