By the time it cycles back to the garage, I'm baffled. He's nowhere to be found; either he's not here at all or he's in a room with no security monitor.
I remember what Brody said about his playroom, and my stomach twists again. Is that where he is? In a hidden hardcore dungeon with another woman? One he's comfortable taking to the edge because he's taken her there already?
One he's not afraid to taint?
I close my eyes in defense against the violent need to lash out. Damn him. I thought he understood. I thought he believed me when I told him that I would go there with him.
Bastard.
I don't even realize I've made a decision until I'm heading down to the basement. It's the best guess I have as to where the playroom is located, and since I don't remember seeing it on the security feed, I'm pretty certain I'm right.
It's accessed through stairs in both the kitchen and the garage, and I head to the kitchen, then descend to the next level, most of which is used for bulk pantry space and other storage. I walk down the narrow corridor that I remember so well from my childhood. There's a door at the end, and I pass through, then down another set of stairs that form a hard right angle before reaching the basement door.
I expect that door to be closed, but as I get closer, I realize that it isn't because I can hear voices, and I realize that my fears were justified, because the voice I hear is a woman's.
I can't make out words--honestly, I feel too sick to even concentrate--and I'm walking faster now, fueled by hurt and a
nger.
But when I get to the doorway, there's no toy-filled dungeon, but some sort of high-tech operations system that rivals what I've seen with Bill at WORR. Hell, it probably rivals the Pentagon.
I freeze just outside the door, my hand over my mouth as I look around and try to understand what I'm seeing. The video monitors. The maps. The various computers doing unknown tasks.
What the hell?
The woman's voice is coming from a video screen. It's on a loop, and she's running on a beach, urging whoever is holding the camera to "come on, handsome, don't make me wait."
I frown, confused. Is she talking to Dallas? I don't think so, because he's barely even looking at the video. Instead, he's angled to look at another monitor, this one showing a map of Mexico.
Then it fades, and I almost yelp when Liam's face pops onto the screen in its place.
Seriously. What. The. Fuck?
"She went missing yesterday," Liam says. "Her boyfriend reported it to local authorities. It's the case I mentioned, and she's skipped out on family and friends before, which is why we did a little more investigation before confirming the kidnapping."
"How did she end up on our radar?" Dallas asks.
"Her father is business partners with Mr. Liu, and was aware that Liu came to us instead of Chinese officials to get back his little boy. The burner phone we issued Liu is still active and linked to Tony's burner for another two days. Standard follow-up in case the boy needs special attention. He left a message. He wants to give Deliverance forty-eight hours, then pull in the feds."
Deliverance.
I start to sag, then reach for the doorframe to steady myself.
"What leads do we have?" Dallas asks.
"We've tracked her to Mexico City. I have Tony looking at--behind you. Shit."
Dallas slams his palm down on a button on the console in front of him. Immediately, all the monitors in the room go dark.
He turns then, and when he sees me, his eyes go wide. "Jane."
"You're Deliverance?" My chest is so tight I can barely force out the words.
I watch as a flurry of emotion washes over his face. I'm holding my breath in defense against the truth that is coming. The truth that is so damn obvious there can be no other explanation even though I desperately hope I'm wrong.
"Tell me, dammit."
"Yes," he finally says. "I'm Deliverance."