“Fine,” the officer says, but he says it almost in a monotone, almost like he doesn’t really care. Turning to me, he asks, “Do you think you could lead us to the bunker?”
Locating the area where Reagan kidnapped me is easy.
Locating the vent isn’t. Luckily, the burnt ring of ground is good for our story’s credibility, and the group of us and a few cops spend nearly an hour searching the ground for the vent I crawled out of. I was so fucking dazed and terrified when I ran from Alan that I didn’t register much of my surroundings, and that fact comes back to bite me in the ass now.
Just as I’m about to give up hope, we find it. My stomach turns as I look at the metal grate that I dislodged to break free, remembering the dawn light appearing in my vision as I made my way through the dark tunnels.
“This it?” Banning asks.
I nod.
“Do you think you could find your way back through the tunnels?” he asks, referencing my story.
“Maybe.”
God, I don’t want to go back down there. But I know I have to.
One of the smaller officers crouches down next to the vent, peering inside. He shines his flashlight around the small tunnel I escaped through. It was barely big enough for him, and I’m really not sure he’ll be able to fit, but he gestures for me to follow him as he crawls into the vent.
“Are you going to be okay?” Elias murmurs, brushing his hand up against my arm before I can take another step. The touch is comforting, and I do my best to swallow back my fear. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah. I do.”
The words bolster me a little, and I step forward and crawl into the forbidding, terrifying hole.
With the cops shining their flashlights behind me, and the one in front of me occasionally grunting as he makes his way through the duct, it takes less time going in than it did escaping. Maybe it’s just because I know I have armed officers in front and behind me this time and I’m not alone. Still, I don’t like it one bit.
And as it turns out, all the effort of getting down into the bunker proves useless.
As we crawl out of the vent in the dim light of the corridor I ran through earlier, my skin chills.
The bunker is completely empty.
I know I ran past things stacked in the hallway when I was making a run for it, but the corridors are completely empty now.
I lead the men to the room I was kept in, and it’s empty too. There isn’t even a sliver of the cracked chair, no sign of the rope that was used to bind me. Anything that could have placed me in this chamber—a blood splatter from my dripping cuts, a scuff mark from my shoe—is gone. Anything that could have placed Alan in here is gone too.
It’s like it never even happened.
So this is what he’s been doing over the past several hours instead of trying to capture me or kill me.
“Fuck,” the shorter officer mutters, his voice echoing through the chamber. “This is creepy as shit.”
My head spins, anger clouding my mind.
Alan knew. Motherfucker, he knew I would go to the police. Did he let me escape? Did he let me escape just to show me how fucking powerless I am?
Somehow, I doubt that. He’s past the point of teaching me lessons or sending veiled warnings. He was ready to outright kill me, so why would he let me escape? I think his move out of this bunker was reactionary, not planned.
Not that it helps any at the moment. He still managed to cover his tracks.
I turn to look at the officers, each man combing the area for evidence that isn’t even here.
How many of them are in his pocket? How many of them have been bribed not to take me seriously, to turn a blind eye to anything he does?
By the time we make our way back out, I’m absolutely fucking sick. The Sinners and Max waited behind with Banning while I went down into the bunker, and the sun glints off Elias’s blond hair as he reaches forward to help me out of the duct. I want to vomit up the coffee and whiskey I spent my morning drinking, along with the eggs and half a bagel I managed to eat.
“Shit, Soph,” Declan murmurs. “You’re as pale as a sheet.”
“Well, did you find anything?” Gray demands, turning to face the cops who came into the bunker with me, his eyes narrowing.
Banning also looks expectantly at the men who followed behind me.
Flicking off his flashlight, the younger officer says, “Miss Wright’s story adds up. The bunker, the vent, the tunnels. It all matches her description.”
“But?” I blurt, sensing the word coming before he speaks it aloud.
He turns to me, grimacing. “But that doesn’t necessarily prove anything. The place is completely empty. There’s nothing that puts you here.” He looks at Gray. “And there’s nothing that puts Alan Montgomery here either.”
My heart stops beating in my chest, my limbs growing numb.
Goddammit. It can’t be over so quick. We can’t have failed already. Do they even believe me, or are they just playing along?
Declan grips my arm, his fingers digging tight, and I can’t tell if he’s doing it to keep me from passing out or to keep me from reaming out a cop.
“If you’d like, we can assign a few officers to keep an eye on you for a couple days until you feel the threat has lessened,” Banning says. “But we can’t do anything about it beyond this.”
“Like I’m fucking going to let that happen,” Gray growls, stepping forward. The younger officer blanches slightly, glancing at his superior. “Sophie is telling the fucking truth. She’s not lying about this. So you’re going to drive your ass over to Alan Montgomery’s house and talk to him.”
The younger officer looks toward Banning, as if asking what to do. Gray looks like he’s ready to beat the shit out of all of these guys, but I know he’s just playing every card he’s got at his disposal, throwing around the weight of his family’s reputation and power.
And it seems to be working.
“Fine.” Banning looks like he regrets coming to work at all this morning. “We’ll look into Alan Montgomery.”
As he finishes speaking, he glances my way. He doesn’t say anything to me, but I can clearly read his expression.
The only reason he’s going along with this is because he believes Gray’s threat. If I didn’t have the Sinners on my side right now, I’d be fucked. Just another girl from the wrong side of the tracks whose word doesn’t measure up against the money of a man like Alan Montgomery.
I press my lips together, biting back a sharp response. As long as the cops question the man who held me captive, I don’t care why they do it. It doesn’t matter if they pursue this case because they take their jobs seriously or because they just want to get the Sinners off their backs.
They’ll talk to Alan.
Now I just have to hope he slips up and says something he shouldn’t.
7
After climbing back into Gray’s car, we follow two of the squad cars through the foothills and onto the highway. All three of the Sinners had to throw their weight around to get the cops to agree to let us come with them, and to be honest, the fact that they did let us come makes me nervous about how well they'll handle this investigation.