Deliverer

Chapter 13

The drive back lasted an eternity. He didn't wait for Eli to put the vehicle in park before he jumped out of the passenger side. He headed toward the front door, where Claber greeted him.

"Well?" Truman clenched his hands. “Did you find them?”

Claber shook his head, his eyes staring at some spot over Truman's head. "We know they escaped into the forest, but I didn’t see any sign of them. We've posted men at different positions along the road; we'll find them when they come out."

"You better," Truman snapped, rabid anger firing through his veins. "Their lives are worth more than yours." Everything was gone. Everything. A momentary wave of grief washed over him, so fierce that Truman dug his fingernails into his hands. Where was Sara now? He had to find her.

Then a sea of rage burned away his sadness. The other two girls had taken his freedom with them. At least he still had the necklace and the jewels.

He hadn't even seen the necklace yet. He'd been so caught up with the girls after the raid party returned, he'd forgotten to ask to see it. Now a safety net of diamonds would give him a little reassurance. "Where's the Swan Lake necklace? Is it in the safe?"

Claber paused just a moment too long, letting Truman know that he hadn't given the necklace much thought after the kidnapping either. "I don't know. Would you like me to check?"

That response didn't sit well with him. "I'll do it myself," Truman grunted, pushing past him.

The safe was hidden in a small utility closet on the second floor. Unlatching the back wall, Truman let himself into a large room, of which the safe took up most of the space. He rubbed his fingers over his palms, noting how clammy they were. Something didn't feel right. It's in the safe, he told himself, unable to calm his rapidly beating heart. He grabbed the combination lock and spun it around.

The door unhitched with a click. For once the sight of various boxes and stolen goods only infuriated him. How was he supposed to find anything in this mess? He yanked everything out, dumping the contents on the floor, certain at any second he'd find that necklace.

He didn't. A little more desperate this time, he carefully put everything back in place, searching every box and corner.

Nothing. He stood up and stared at the contents of the safe.

Claber remained in the hallway, a silent observer, his brows knit together. "Is it there?"

A current of unease ran through Claber's voice. Claber knew, as Truman did, that without the girls and the necklace, they had nothing to stand on. The money would not come in fast enough and they would have wasted the last two weeks. Half their time. There would be no hope.

"No." Truman bit out the word, pouring his rage into the single syllable. His hands trembled with fury, and he took several deep breaths. The room spun for a moment. Spinning out of control.

"We'll check the van," Claber said, a bead of sweat forming along his buzzed hairline. "Maybe it never got moved."

Truman didn't answer. He strode down the hall, letting the safe swing shut behind him. Claber marched to keep up.

The van was safely locked in the garage. At least one thing was where it should be.

“There’s nothing in the back,” Claber said, doing a quick scan before closing the doors to the cargo hold. “Everything in here was put in the safe.”

Truman yanked the passenger side door open and bent to pull out the safety deposit box under the seat. It wasn't even sealed. He opened it, already knowing it would be empty. Swearing viciously, he shoved the box back under the seat and began opening glove compartments, checking cup holders. Claber hovered behind him like a nervous phantom.