Already Gone (A Laura Frost FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 1) by Blake Pierce (e book reader TXT) 📕

pausing. Now wasn’tthe time for second thoughts. It was the time for pushing forward.

And there was one thing left—the mostimportant thing yet. She had to get on a plane—and the moment she landed, sheknew exactly where she was going.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Laura hammered on the door, steppingback to glance up at the windows of the home above her. The governor’s mansionwas an impressive structure, but that wasn’t what her attention was focused onnow. She was looking for movement, for any sign of life.

The door opened promptly, revealing anHispanic woman wiping her hands on a long apron. Even as she opened it, she wasglancing over her shoulder, which had Laura’s hackles up immediately.

“Hi, FBI,” she said, immediately showingher badge without preamble. “I’d like to come inside.”

The housekeeper hesitated. Her face waspale, and her eyes darted from Laura’s face to the badge to back over hershoulder again.

“I’m not supposed to…” she began,trailing off as she gnawed at her own lower lip. Laura watched her hands andrealized they were shaking.

“If I have cause to believe that someonein the house is in danger of harm, then I have the right to enter the propertywithout permission or a warrant,” she said, keeping her voice low but her wordsurgent. “Do you understand?”

The housekeeper turned and looked at heragain. “Yes,” she said. She paused, clearing her throat. “I… think you mighthave heard someone scream a moment ago. I heard something as well.”

“Thank you,” Laura said fervently,stepping over the threshold and charging through the house.

She had to force her hand not to strayto her gun.

She followed her gut, not sure of the layoutof the house. But it wasn’t hard to guess; straight through to a wide-openkitchen, sunlight streaming in through French doors. A cursory glance thererevealed nothing, as Laura had expected. The housekeeper’s domain, or a cook ifthey had one. Not where the master of the house spent his time.

Back to the main hall; stairs leadingup, which Laura had to assume would take her to Amy’s bedroom. But first, twodoors on either side. Laura took one at random, finding herself in acomfortable and lavishly decorated sitting room, complete with an American flagcurling over the fireplace; a room where the governor could receive guests. Itwas empty.

The next door along was another sittingroom, but this time smaller and more intimate; photographs of the family linedthe walls, and not just the posed and political kind.

That was where she found Mrs. Fallow.

“You,” the woman gasped, quickly dashingher hands over her face as Laura burst in. That didn’t hide the tears she hadbeen crying at all. “You’re—you’re not supposed to be here. We don’t… want you!”

Laura stared at her for a fraction of amoment. Even now, when she tried to say it strong and loud, it didn’t ringtrue. Not with the tears still drying on her face, black mascara crusted undereach eye.

Laura ignored her and turned away. Amother who allowed her daughter to be abused. Her most precious thing. The oneperson in the world it was not only her duty, but her privilege toprotect.

Most of all, Laura hated her because shewas just like Laura. Trapped by her own fear and pain until she had let herdaughter down.

The very failings that Laura wouldnever, ever, if she lived for a thousand years, be able to forgive herself for.

She charged up the stairs, knowing therewere only two people to find, and knowing by the tears on Mrs. Fallow’s facethat she was likely to find them together.

She ran at full tilt, taking the stairstwo at a time and then nearly falling at the top, but not stopping as she racedalong the corridor. A room at the end of the hall was spilling light from thewindows in a diamond pattern out on the floor, and Laura recognized it. Sheknew the door, the carpet and wallpaper she could glimpse inside.

She knew the silhouette of the man whostood there, belt raised in his hand.

Raised high, as if to strike.

“Fallow!” Laura yelled, calling onsomething deep down inside of her; what came out of her mouth was a screech ofrighteous fury, like she was possessed by a demon. He faltered and turned tolook at her, the belt dropping by his side.

Her momentum could not be interrupted.Just two moments later Laura staggered to a stop in the doorway, looking pasthim, past his dumbstruck face and the belt hanging loose at his side.

Past him, at Amy.

The little girl was curled up into aball in the center of her bed, crying, her body shaking up and down silently asshe sobbed hard. Her mouth was hanging open, snot trailing down from her nose.

“You can’t be in here,” the governorsaid, finding his voice.

Laura looked straight at him and movedher hand to her hip, to the grip of her gun. She waited until his eyes flickeddown and took in the silent threat.

“Amy,” she said, keeping her eyes on hima moment longer, but softening her voice. “Amy, do you remember me?”

“Ye-yeah,” Amy sobbed, wiping the backof her hand over her nose. “My a-angel.”

“Come here to me,” Laura said. Shestepped into the room with her hand outstretched, planting herself between the governorand the bed. “Come on, now. It’s going to be okay.”

“You can’t be in here,” the governorrepeated. “You’ve got no right.”

When Amy slowly stumbled from the bedand then to Laura’s side, Laura was quick to take hold of her arm and pull herback toward the door. She kept her eyes on the governor; his eyes flicked downto her hip over and over again. He was slowly reddening, even further than hehad been when she arrived.

“Let’s go,” Laura said quietly, turningand picking Amy up, lifting her from the floor and setting her on the oppositehip—away from the gun—to get her out of there quicker. Her heart was beating amile a minute in her chest. Whether it was fear they’d be caught and stopped,or anger at what Governor Fallow had done, she could no longer tell.

“I’m going to have you fired,” the governorsaid, raising his voice as he followed them. “You hear me? I’m going to make acall and get the cops