No! No! Not again! Please…
Beg, you b***h. I like it when they beg.
* * *
Then it was gone. A shriek seemed to reverberate through the room.
Santee’s eyes focused on her hands, out of the bag, enclosed in large warm ones. She looked up into Ruarke’s worried face.
“She’s still alive,” she whispered. “But not for long. I think he’s already got his sights on someone new.”
“Who?” Lance said eagerly. “If we know who, we can set a trap.”
Santee just shook her head. She put her hand on the county map. Her finger unerringly jabbed a spot—Lover’s Lane.
“That trail’s a dead end.”
Her finger traced an erratic path from Lover’s Lane. “He took her out that way.”
“My men said—“
Santee narrowed her eyes on Lance. “Your men are wrong.”
* * *
An hour later three vehicles pulled into Lover’s La
