Chapter 9 - The Empty Guest Room
Maeve ran faster than fear.
She did not remember leaving the security office. She did not remember the elevator. She barely remembered Finley shouting her name or Rowan’s chair moving behind her with impossible speed.
All she knew was the shape of the hallway outside Piper’s room.
Too quiet.
Too still.
One guard sat slumped against the wall, alive but dazed. The other was on his knees, coughing, one hand pressed to his neck where a stun mark reddened the skin.
The bedroom door stood open.
Maeve screamed before she reached it.
“Piper!”
The bed was empty.
The gray stuffed rabbit lay on the floor, split open from where the flash drive had been removed.
For one second, Maeve stopped being a person.
She became sound.
Finley caught her before her legs gave out. “Maeve.”
“No! No, no, no—Piper!”
Rowan entered the doorway.
He took in the room in one glance: open window, cut alarm wire, toy on floor, no blood, no struggle beyond one overturned lamp.
No blood.
He held on to that.
“Finley,” he said.
“I’m on cameras.”
“Street exits.”
“Already.”
“Bridges.”
“Yes.”
Maeve twisted out of Finley’s grip and turned on Rowan with a fury so pure it burned through grief.
“You promised!”
The words struck harder than Garrett’s cruelty.
Rowan looked at her.
No defense.
No excuse.
Maeve shoved his chest with both hands. He barely moved in the wheelchair, but Finley stepped forward.
Rowan lifted a hand to stop him.
“You promised no one would take her!”
“I did.”
“Then where is she?”
Her voice broke so violently that even the guards looked away.
Rowan’s face remained controlled, but something behind it had cracked open.
“I will bring her back.”
Maeve laughed, a broken, terrible sound. “Don’t you dare make another promise.”
Rowan absorbed that too.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
Maeve lunged for it. “Answer.”
Rowan did.
A video appeared.
Piper sat in the backseat of a moving car, crying silently, a strip of silver tape over her mouth. Beside her, Silas Venn’s wolf ring rested on the seat.
Maeve made a sound that did not seem human.
A distorted voice spoke.
“You have the drive. We have the child. South Boston dry dock. One hour. Rowan comes alone.”
Finley leaned close. “No.”
The voice continued.
“No police. No guards. No clever little public posts. If we see anyone but Rowan, the girl disappears into a city that forgets poor children every day.”
The video cut.
Maeve grabbed the phone. “Piper! Piper!”
The screen was black.
Finley turned away, already issuing orders.
Rowan said, “Stop.”
Finley froze. “Rowan.”
“They said alone.”
“And you believe them?”
“No.” Rowan’s gaze moved to Maeve. “But they believe I will risk everything if there is a chance.”
Maeve shook her head. “You can’t go alone.”
Finley looked almost relieved that she said it.
Rowan’s voice was cold. “I am not going to obey. I am going to understand the trap.”
Maeve clutched the rabbit against her chest. “You said public sheltering protected us.”
“It should have.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No.”
The honesty was brutal.
Finley’s phone buzzed again. “Traffic camera picked up a black sedan leaving Beacon Hill five minutes ago. Plates stolen. Heading south.”
Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “Too visible.”
“Bait?”
“Yes.”
Maeve snapped, “Stop talking in riddles!”
Rowan turned to her. “They want me at the dry dock in one hour. They showed Piper in a car. That means they want us chasing the car or rushing to the docks. Either way, we move where they choose.”
“Then where is she?”
Rowan looked at the broken rabbit.
Then at the window.
Then at Piper’s shoes beside the bed.
Pink sneakers.
Still there.
His gaze sharpened.
“Not far.”
Maeve stared. “What?”
“She’s six. They took her without shoes.”
Finley understood. “They weren’t planning a long exterior move.”
Rowan continued, faster now. “They wanted a video quickly. The car footage could be staged in the garage or alley. If they meant to transport her across the city, they would have taken shoes, coat, medication.”
Maeve’s breath stopped. “Medication.”
Piper’s inhaler sat on the bedside table.
Maeve nearly sobbed.
Rowan’s voice hardened. “They are nearby.”
Finley was already calling down. “Seal the block. Quietly. No sirens.”
Maeve looked at Rowan with desperate hope she hated needing.
“Find her,” she whispered.
Rowan did not promise.
He simply turned his chair and moved.
The house became a machine. Men swept rooms, stairwells, service entrances. Finley checked every camera. Rowan watched feeds from a tablet, his face reflecting blue light and controlled fury.
Maeve stood in the center of the foyer holding Piper’s torn rabbit.
Then she noticed something.
A trail.
Not blood.
Crumbs.
Tiny pale crumbs leading from the hallway toward the back staircase.
Piper’s crackers.
Maeve’s heart lurched.
“She left a trail,” she whispered.
Rowan heard.
His eyes snapped to the floor.
Crumbs dotted the edge of the rug, nearly invisible.
Finley crouched. “Smart girl.”
Maeve followed them, shaking, down the back stairs toward the old cellar level. At the bottom, the trail ended near a locked wine room.
From behind the door came a muffled sound.
Maeve dropped to her knees. “Piper!”
A tiny thump answered.
Finley shoved a key into the lock, but it jammed.
“Move,” Rowan said.
Finley kicked the old frame twice.
The door splintered open.
Piper sat inside on the floor, wrists loosely tied with a scarf, tape half-peeled from her mouth, face wet with tears.
Maeve reached her first.
The sound that left them both was too private for anyone to interrupt.
Piper clung to her mother, shaking. “I dropped crackers like Hansel.”
Maeve sobbed into her hair. “Good girl. My good girl.”
Rowan stayed in the doorway.
Relief hit him so hard he almost lowered his head.
Almost.
Then Piper looked at him over Maeve’s shoulder.
“Uncle Rowan,” she whispered. “The wolf man was here.”
Finley cursed.
Rowan wheeled closer. “When?”
“He said he didn’t have time to take me because the fancy lady changed the plan.”
Maeve’s arms tightened.
Piper reached into her dress pocket and pulled out something small.
A silver button.
“He dropped this.”
Rowan took it carefully.
On the button was an engraved letter.
G.
Garrett.
Finley’s face went dark.
Maeve looked at Rowan. “Your cousin was in your house?”
Rowan closed his hand around the button.
“No,” he said.
The house phone began ringing upstairs.
May you like
Rowan looked toward the ceiling.
“Garrett wants us to think he was.”
