In the Dark: A Thrilling Romantic Suspense Novel (The Dark Series Book 1)

by Danah Logan

  Lilly nods.

  "Well, okay..." She takes one more deep breath. "You were dropped off anonymously at the ER. No one knew where you came from. You were unconscious. We couldn’t figure out who you were. There weren’t any missing person reports matching your description. At the time, we didn’t know if a caregiver had neglected you or if something else had happened to you. You didn’t have any physical injuries. The tox screen showed that your condition was due to an extremely high amount of sedatives. Every person’s body reacts differently to different dosages, but you were so small and were given too much. We assumed that it was the reason you were brought in."

  While we listen, Lilly seeks out my hand again, never breaking eye contact with Madeline. I interlace my fingers with hers and rest both our hands on my thigh. This time, the butterflies in my stomach remain at bay. I need her touch as much as she needs mine to listen to this. Madeline’s eyes briefly flicker to our joined hands, but she doesn’t pause.

  "You were unconscious for several days. Physically, you should’ve woken up, but we believed it was your mind’s way of protecting itself. You shut yourself off from the outside world. I took care of you whenever I was scheduled to work, and I was there the day you opened your eyes. You were scared and confused. It took me over twenty-four hours of almost constant talking before you told me your name. I just talked to you about myself, my dog Harvey, my sister and her kids, anything and everything. But you wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened to you, and no one was able to go near you. Your attending physician and I were the only people you let come close, and you only let him when I was in the room during the checkups. I didn’t leave the hospital for almost forty-eight hours to stay by your side."

  Madeline takes a drink of water. "After you told me your name, the hospital was able to locate your parents quickly, and they arrived the same day. They drove all the way from San Diego. You had just had another episode—a nightmare—and I was about to take a quick break when they walked in. I knew at first glance who they were; you and your mother looked so much alike. Same fair skin and light hair.

  "Of course they wanted to see you right away, but we had to follow procedure—take both to a different room to figure out what happened and brief them on your condition. Social services was assigned at that point.

  "The attending physician gave his medical report. Your father was barely holding on when he heard about the sedatives. I explained to them what had happened since you woke up. You didn’t say much while you were awake, but you had nightmares every time you fell asleep. You cried a lot in your sleep. Called out for your father—and Rhys."

  This is the first time Madeline looks at me longer than just a quick glance, as if she wants to say something, but then continues. "After I mentioned the nightmares, your father broke down and had to leave the room. Your mother informed us what happened to you. You were taken on a school field trip, and the kidnapper blackmailed them into keeping quiet so that you wouldn’t be harmed. They received daily updates with photos, videos, and timestamps until the day you were brought to the hospital. She showed them to us. Your father wanted to involve the authorities at that point, but your mother refused. I assume out of fear for your life—it wasn’t my place to make assumptions.

  "Your father had just returned to the room when your mother’s phone signaled an incoming message." Madeline shudders at the memory.

  Her next words are spoken very softly as if she purposefully tries not to frighten us. "The message contained a picture of the three of us. It showed me leading them to the room we were still in. All it said was, ‘You cannot hide.’"

  "Your mother said they had received another message while they were on their way with a picture of one of the surveillance cameras from the hospital that said that he would get you back. Whoever this person was, they knew what they were doing."

  By now, Lilly’s grip on my hand is so tight that I have to untangle my fingers from hers and, instead, clasp her hand between both of mine. Madeline watches us like she is studying something under a microscope. I don’t like it.

  "You wouldn’t let your mother near you for the first few hours; it was heartbreaking. At some point, your mother received another message. She didn’t let me see it, but it deeply unsettled them. I overheard some phone calls with your parents. They had just landed in California." She focuses on me. "From what I gathered, they suggested taking Lilly and hiding her from the kidnapper."

  This time, it is me squeezing Lilly’s hand. For whatever reason, I always assumed that Lilly’s parents initiated all this, and my parents were just friends helping out. My parents suggesting to hide Lilly makes my stomach churn. Why would they do that? Couldn’t Emily and Henry have protected her?

  "I suggested a specialist to help you cope with your memories. In the state you were in, you wouldn’t have been able to have a normal childhood for a very long time. In that short period, I grew very fond of you. I was worried for you. After that last communication from the kidnapper and when they got off the phone with Heather and Tristen, your mother came to me. She asked to talk in private and begged me to help her. There were things your father apparently wasn’t aware of, and she wouldn’t tell me either, but she wanted to check you out immediately. No one could know you were there. She wanted no trace of you found. She even offered me money to help her." Money? Madeline pauses to take another sip of her water.

  "I could see how scared she was. She trusted me with your life. We’d had several victims from a large car accident come in just prior to your parents’ arrival, and with everyone being busy, you were still listed as Jane Doe in the system. Of course, we had verified that your parents were who they claimed to be. Besides the obvious resemblance, they had your birth certificate and pictures. But I never updated the record, and neither did the charge nurse nor attending physician. I called in a lot of favors and was able to keep it that way until you were discharged. You remained Jane Doe in the hospital system."

  Until now, neither Lilly nor I have spoken, but her last statement sparks a deep sense of anger in me that I can’t contain.

  "You suggested the specialist? He obviously did more than just help her cope. Lilly forgot everything. Even her parents." My pulse is racing, and Lilly jumps at my outburst. She tightens her grip on my hand, and her gentle reminder calms my nerves. I squeeze back, silently thanking her. I’m baffled by the realization that I need her touch as much as she seems to need mine.

  Madeline squeezes her lips together in a sad smile. "Yes, it seems he did. And from what I saw in the brief time I spent with you and then your parents, I believe they did what was best for you at the moment to keep you safe and give you a chance of a normal life." Her tone is professional—detached, even—which is probably due to years in her profession.

  Lilly speaks for the first time, her voice so soft that it’s barely audible. "Do you know what happened to my parents?"

  I scan Madeline’s face carefully, and her eyes widen in surprise ever so slightly. If I hadn’t looked for a reaction, I probably would’ve missed it.

  "I do not, I’m sorry. I never heard from your parents again after you were discharged. As much as I wanted to know if you were okay, I also knew that reaching out in any way could bring you back in harm’s way. I saw the news reports of the other girls, and I do believe that you are the one he wants. If he gets back on your trail, he will find you."

  We sit in silence for a long while, no one speaking. Everyone is lost in their own thoughts. Lilly shudders, and I wrap my arms around her. I don’t care anymore about keeping up appearances. This has freaked both of us out.

  Lilly stares at her now folded hands, her body shivering every so often. I’m starting to worry she is going into shock and look up at Madeline, who is in her own head.

  "Can you tell us the name of the specialist?"

  She thinks for a moment before speaking carefully. "No, I only suggested seeing a specialist. I believe your father"—she looks at me—"was somehow involved in finding the
right person. Maybe it’s time to talk to them?"

  That brings a reaction out of Lilly. She locks eyes with Madeline. "Thank you for everything you have done for me."

  Madeline genuinely smiles at the girl in my arms. "I would do it again. Take care of yourself, Lilly." Then, she looks at me, still smiling, but with a serious gaze. "And you take care of her also."

  This woman truly cares about Lilly, and I am grateful for that.

  "I intend to. Thank you." I nod at her.

  The drive back to the hotel is quiet. Lilly hasn’t said a word since thanking Madeline, and I am back to feeling lost.

  We’ve finally gotten some answers, but those have also sparked more questions. Madeline’s last words haunt me. If he gets back on your trail, he will find you.

  In the hospital, Lilly let me hold her. She needed me, but I can’t assume that she still wants that even if I need her touch just as much. This is such an emotional cluster fuck. I remind myself that I can’t mistake her need for comfort for anything else; it’s just a need for support. Denielle would’ve done the same thing for her.

  We get ready for bed in silence. Lilly is changing in the bathroom, and when she is done, I go to brush my teeth.

  Her bedside lamp is turned off when I return, and she is facing away from me. For a second, I stand there, no clue what to do. Should I say something?

  I decide to give her time and wait until morning. I settle in my own bed and turn the light off, but sleep won’t come. I have flashbacks from the night before we left for this trip. My mind is racing. I think about everything we found out today, my feelings for Lilly, our situation at home. I stare at the ceiling as if it holds the answers. Turning one way, then the other, I reposition my pillow about a hundred times. If Lilly weren’t in the room, I’d hurl the fucking thing across the room out of frustration.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  My phone buzzes with incoming texts and calls all night. Hank wants to know what the fuck happened. This was an important meeting for the expansion project, and I blew it. Whatever. It’s not like I need the money. I have enough to live ten lifetimes. The sole reason for this is to build relationships, and if my projects make them money, they’re happy and bring me more business. I text back that I’ll call the guy in the morning and to not get his panties in a wad. I imagine Hank’s beet-red face reading my reply, and a smirk forms on my lips. Tonight, I have other priorities.

  After downloading the hospital surveillance footage to my local server, I back out of the system. No reason to be in there longer than necessary. I watch the videos several times and find a few more angles to get a good look at Lilly and the guy with her. She has grown up, and I can’t deny that she looks stunning. Lilly looks healthy and strong, like she’s been working out a lot. I remember that she used to like gymnastics as a little girl. I wonder if she still does.

  Next, I scan the guy with her. He is tall with short, dark hair and broad shoulders. I can see the muscles moving in his arms and back while he drags Lilly out of there. He must be important because I can’t imagine just anyone being with her there. I grind my teeth; it will take some time to track them, and I’m not very patient at the moment. Maybe I’ll try a different angle to get to the information I need.

  I pull up Margery’s file. Over the years, I have been tracking everyone that had come in contact with Lilly while she was in the hospital. Most nurses have moved on to other hospitals, including the one that mainly took care of Lilly, but Margery stayed put. Little does the rest of the staff know, Margery has been struggling since her back surgery five years ago. Every few months, she takes a detour to the pharmacy after her shift and stocks up on fentanyl. Granted, I was a little shocked when she moved on from morphine about two years ago, but I noticed that she is stocking up less, which means she makes it last longer. How she gets it is none of my concern; if she’s stealing it or bribing someone, that fact is not important to me.

  How to do it? How to do it? Email, text message, or phone call. I tap my index finger against my chin. I decide on a quick phone call. I’ve wanted to use my latest voice-distortion software forever, and for a simple prank call to Margot or Julian, it’s too expensive. Plus, Margot would be up my ass for days.

  It’s almost four in the morning, which will hopefully also help my cause. I set everything up and dial Margery’s cell number. Just for fun, I don’t go with the creepy voice but a stuffy British female accent. Being on call all the time, she has to answer her phone.

  "This is Margery." She sounds sleepy.

  "Hello, Margery."

  "Who is this?" She is already more alert.

  "That’s not important, dear Margery. What is important is that I know your little secret."

  "Wha— How— Who?" she splutters.

  Oh, this will be even easier than I thought.

  "Oh, Margery, I was so sorry to see you resort to such measures after your back surgery, but I do understand that you can’t allow the pain to get the best of you. Not in your line of work."

  She understands my insinuation, and when Margery doesn’t say anything, I continue.

  "You had a visitor tonight."

  That gets a reaction, and I hear her sharp intake of breath.

  "So, my dear, as I see it, we have two choices."

  "What do you want?" She sounds strangled.

  "Well, you see, I’ve been waiting for this day for a very long time, but unfortunately, I need you to fill in some blanks for me. Unless, of course, you would like Human Resources to get an anonymous email about your whereabouts after your shift on December second."

  Oh yes, I know exactly when she stocked up last. I did my homework.

  "No!" She is fully awake now.

  "Very well, then. So why don’t you tell me about your visitor, my dear?" I smile to myself.

  "Why can’t you just leave that poor girl alone?" Her question is no more than a whisper. She knows who I am and is afraid. Rightfully so. I may not harm anyone physically, but with today’s technology, you don’t need physical harm to destroy someone.

  "That is not your concern." I struggle to keep my voice calm. "Just tell me what happened."

  "The boy was talking to one of my nurses. He was asking about Maddie. He said she took care of his sister a long time ago. Beth is new. She never met Maddie and told him that."

  Sister? That’s interesting; but why did they race out of the hospital if that was all?

  "Margery," I chastise, "you are not telling me everything."

  "Really! That’s all they talked about." She is almost pleading.

  "Margery, you and I both know that you are holding something back. Do I have to remind you again what’s at stake?"

  I can hear her take slow breaths which I assume are to calm herself.

  "I gave them Maddie’s information. I didn’t talk to them, but I gave them a note with her new hospital."

  "Ahhh. Now, was that so difficult, my dear? Now, one last thing, did they mention any names? Besides Madeline Cross."

  I have searched for Lilly for years, but her name hasn’t popped up anywhere.

  "He only said his sister; he didn’t mention her name." Listening closely to the way she rushes it out tells me there is more.

  "Margery, dear, are you certain this is all he said?" I make sure to lace my tone with a warning undertone.

  "Yes," she croaks. She doesn’t want to tell me but knows she has no choice. However, she is trying, which is commendable since she’s seen what I could do ten years ago.

  "I’m growing impatient, Margery. Nathalie is working tonight, and I’m sure she’ll check her emails at some point." Nathalie Rehn is the charge nurse who’s on duty tonight and also a strict rule follower. She would have Margery reported within the hour.

  "He said his name was McGuire. Rhys McGuire." There we go.

  "Well, thank you, Margery. That wasn’t so difficult, now was it?"

  "Will you tell anyone?" She is terrified of losing her job.

  "No, not at th
is point. Your little problem has not harmed anyone, but the day it does, I will happily take action."

  I don’t wait for a reply and hang up.

  Rhys McGuire, who are you and what do you have to do with my Lilly?

  I’m about to start my search when my phone rings, and Margot’s name and picture lights up the screen. She chose the picture. Margot doesn’t leave anything to chance. It was taken at a gala we attended a few months into dating. She wore a strapless black gown which emphasized every curve of her body. Her normally curly blonde hair was impeccably styled in one of those fifties-style up-dos, no doubt by her personal stylist. She looked truly stunning that night.

  If she calls me at this hour, it means something has happened, and not answering is out of the question.

  "Margot? What’s wrong?"

  "Oh, darling, Marco quit and left me stranded at The Club. He just left; can you believe it? How am I going to get home now?" she wails into the phone. Oh boy, Marco was her most recent driver, and I don’t even bother questioning why this one quit.

  "I’m on my way," I sigh.

  Rhys McGuire has gotten one more night of peace.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I wake up exhausted. I couldn’t sleep for the longest time, and neither could Rhys from what I heard from his side of the room. I think I finally drifted off around four.

  Propping myself up to glance at the alarm clock on the other side of Rhys’s bed, I see it’s only nine. Five hours—that explains why I’m so tired. Rhys is still out, probably just as worn out as I am.

  Plopping back onto my pillow, I stare at the ceiling. Holding Rhys’s hand during Madeline’s recollection kept me calm. In the last few weeks, I’ve let anger and betrayal run my life with Rhys as my anchor. But it’s a new day, and instead of rage or betrayal, I’m consumed with a different emotion—fear. It has completely taken over. I was kidnapped, drugged, stalked, abandoned, and brainwashed. Bile starts to rise in my throat, and I scramble out of bed to the bathroom, where I empty the remnants of my stomach into the toilet.