Page 77 of Jenna's Protector
They’re small, barely big enough to stand in. The walls are scored with desperate, clawing marks. The floors are stained with things I don’t want to think about. In one corner, a pile of shattered fingernails lies crusted with old blood.
Nausea rises in my throat, mingling with a white-hot rage that threatens to choke me. The thought of Jenna trapped in this hellhole, alone and terrified, is almost more than I can bear.
What about the four missing girls?
Are they also trapped in an unspeakable hell like this?
“I’ve got something.” Rigel’s call pulls me from my thoughts.
We crowd into another room, and my stomach turns at the sight. It’s a torture chamber, complete with a rack and shackles hanging from the walls. The floor is stained a rusty brown, and I don’t need to be a detective to know it’s blood.
“She never mentioned this.” My voice is hoarse, barely recognizable to my own ears.
Blake’s hand lands on my shoulder, a solid weight. “She might not remember. Trauma—it does things to the mind.”
I nod, swallowing hard against the bile rising in my throat. This is worse, so much worse than I could have imagined.
We search the rest of the compound, but there’s nothing else. No clues. No evidence. It’s been wiped clean and sanitized.
A professional job.
Whoever was here knew what they were doing.
“Charlie team, moving out.” Ethan’s voice is quiet, somber.
We retreat the way we came, shadows disappearing into the night, and we return empty-handed.
Time is running out for the girls I’m desperate to save.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Carter
Back at Guardian HRS headquarters,the disappointment of what we’ve seen hangs heavy in the air. The team is quiet as we file into the briefing room, each of us lost in our thoughts.
“We need to go over everything, piece by piece.” Blake is the first to break the silence. “There has to be something we missed.”
“That place was wiped clean. Sanitized. Lots of money behind that cleanup job.” I scratch at the back of my neck, feeling stumped.
“I agree with you there.” Ethan leans back, frustration evident in his tone.
“From utility records, it looks like that place has been abandoned for at least two years.” Mitzy leans toward her screen.
“Where does this leave us?” Gabe pushes back from the table with a groan.
“We lean on old-fashioned detective work.” I hate to come across yet another dead end, but it’s part of the process.
“Such as?” Blake’s eyes narrow, the hint of superiority clear. He doesn’t think my old detective methods will find anything Guardian HRS can’t.
“We trace the funds used to build the place. The funds used to maintain it.” I scratch my chin, thinking. “They had to have maidsand gardeners. Security was probably handled internally. In my experience, the little things always lead us to whoever’s behind this.”
Blake’s skeptical expression doesn’t waver, but I press on.
“We look at utility bills, deliveries, maintenance records. Who delivered their food? What about waste disposal? Someone had to pay for electricity, water, and internet.”
I pace a bit, the gears in my mind turning. “We dig through property records and zoning permits. No matter how well they think they’ve covered their tracks, there’s always a paper trail. We can check for any nearby businesses or residents who might have noticed unusual activity.”
I stop and meet Blake’s gaze, making sure he understands. “And don’t forget surveillance footage from traffic cameras or neighboring properties. We chase the money and look for patterns in everything surrounding the building. Someone, somewhere, saw something.”