Page 117 of Hours to Kill
“We got a basement,” someone yelled from the TV.
“Yes!” Kiley pumped her fist, and her eyes lit up.
Mack tried not to get his hopes up, but they soared—way up—and he didn’t know if his heart could take another disappointment. He felt so out of control. So frantic. Desperate. Nearly as bad as when Addy was missing.
She slipped her hand into his, the warmth a comfort for his nerves. He turned to smile at her. He still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to resume their marriage. He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to let her. Not only agreed but encouraged it. He still feared he might hurt her, but he wouldn’t let that fear dictate his life any longer. He would live the life God wanted him to have, and Mack knew without a doubt that Addy was included in that life.
He heard boots pounding on the TV speaker and turned back to see Newkirk’s camera catching the stairwell as he marched down the steps. He looked around the unfinished space with gray cinder block walls and concrete floors. He swiveled and paused, his camera facing a door with a hasp lock.
“Cover me,” he called out. He broke the lock and drew open the door, which groaned on its hinges. “Going in.”
Mack listened for any sound of terrified girls, but silence greeted them. “If they’re in there, they aren’t saying a word.”
Newkirk swept his lighted rifle over the room. He landed on a pair of eyes staring from the shadows. He moved on.Another set of eyes. Another and another. Yet one more. Five girls cowering in the darkness.
“They’re there!” Kiley exclaimed. “We did it. We found them.”
“Slow down, Kiley,” Sean warned. “We don’t know who these girls are yet.”
“We’re with the FBI,” Newkirk said. “No need to be afraid.”
He moved to the first girl and shone the light over her head to protect her eyes, giving them a clear view of her face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Izzie,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Izzie Dilman.”
Addy squeezed Mack’s hand, and his heart took flight.
“It’s official. Wedidfind one of them.” Tears flowed down Kiley’s cheeks.
“Well, Izzie, would you like to go home?” Newkirk asked.
“P-p-lease.”
“My agent will help you.”
An agent assisted her as she slowly came to her feet. Newkirk’s light shone on her, and she looked healthy but dirty. He moved to the next girl. Before he asked the name, Mack recognized her as Becky Vaughn.
“It’s Becky,” Mack said. “It really is her.”
“Two of the three,” Sean said, his voice barely there. He’d been lead on this investigation and had blamed himself for a long time for not bringing the girls home, and Mack couldn’t begin to know what he was feeling.
Newkirk helped her to her feet.
“Did you get him?” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
“Who?” Newkirk asked.
“Bobby Gaines. The guy who took us.”
Newkirk nodded. “He won’t ever hurt you again.”
She shuddered. “It was all my fault. He came on to me one night when we were out. I started a secret relationship with him. I should have known a city guy wouldn’t be interested in me and he was gonna do something bad.”
“This is not your fault,” Newkirk said. “It’s all on Gaines. Don’t ever forget that.”
Becky started crying, the pain in her sobs cutting Mack to the quick.
Newkirk patted her shoulder, then had one of his team take her out of the room.
