Tyler motioned toward the printer. “A copy’s coming through for you now, and I’ll email the image to Gilchrist for facial recognition.”
“Send a copy to Kupita as well. Have him distribute it among his men. About damn time we got something.” Ben nabbed the picture before the ink had even dried. “I’ve not seen this man at any of the staff or security meetings, and he’d be hard to miss. Does the camera footage show where he’s headed?”
“I’ll check that now.” Tyler released the pause button.
The man rolled his basket overflowing with towels and linens past the laundry doors. He disappeared from sight around the far corner. The service area was made up of a two-story block that bordered the far side of the meadow. Thick gardens and bush between the main building and that one kept most of it from the public’s view. “I’ll head over to the laundry now and run a visual.” He raced out the door with the picture in hand. This was the strongest lead they’d had so far.
Saria had to be alive.
He needed his woman back.
Now.
Hot. So hot. Saria opened her lids and sweat dribbled into her eyes and hazed her vision. She blinked and squinted toward a sliver of light shining on the strangest angle.
She tried to move her arms and legs, but only managed to tighten the bindings around her ankles and wrists, both roped together behind her and making her arch backward as she lay on her side. Her back and shoulders throbbed, and her head thumped as if drums beat within.
Pushing with her tongue, she tried to spit out the foul-tasting gag, but another piece of fabric around it held it firmly in place. Her stomach rolled and she dry heaved. She had to get out of here, wherever here was.
No windows, and the space was cramped. A broken shovel and a dusty broom lay propped near her head against the tin wall, both covered in spider webs.
While trying to move, she scratched her shoulder against the pitted concrete floor. Dark and all-consuming pain raked through her. Tears streaked down her cheeks and puddled on the floor. She shouldn’t have opened that stupid door when she knew the rules. Ben would be blaming himself for leaving her alone. Oh, and Lydia. Her poor sister would be beside herself. “I need you, Ben,” she mumbled into the cloth. “Find me, please.”
She gritted her teeth and pushed through the searing pain of trying to loosen the bindings.
Ben stormed along the concrete terrace toward the service elevator, the photograph in hand. Mimicking the assailant’s movements, he continued past the laundry doors then strode around the corner.
Two flights of steps led down to the meadow, while along the building’s back boundary, the jungle rose thick and strong. Within that dense area, miles upon miles of prime hiding space, lay.
He tapped the image. That waist-high canvas laundry basket was large enough to hold Saria, but he’d have been unable to roll it downstairs.
Across the meadow, a gardener was deadheading red and pink flowering hibiscus bushes, tossing clippings into his wheelbarrow. Ben jogged downstairs and over to the man in green overalls. “Excuse me. A woman has gone missing, and we’re looking for this man. He would have been in this area around five yesterday afternoon. Have you seen anyone of his—”
A dull clatter resonated somewhere within the trees. The hairs on his arms rose, and his senses flared to full alert.
The gardener set his clippers down and peered into the bushes at an old tin shed covered in ivy. “That’s old Wiri’s shed. I haven’t used that for storage in years. Sounds like something dinged against it.”
“I’ll check it out.” Ben shoved through the brush. A boulder was wedged against the door. He rolled it clear and turned the shed’s rusty knob. The door creaked as he hauled it open. Musty air assailed him and on the concrete floor inside, a trickle of light played over a woman’s body.
“Saria?” His heart lurched. He fell to his knees and pressed two fingers against her neck. Her pulse beat weakly. She had to have just been awake, enough to make that noise. Now, she lay completely unresponsive, soaked with sweat. Bruises mottled her arms and legs, and her shoulders were red and raw. As carefully as he could, he removed the bindings contorting her back into a painful arch then untied the cloth around her head. Gently, he slid the stuffed rag holding a trace of chloroform out of her mouth. “I’ll get you out of here, baby. And I’m never going to let you out of my sight ever again. You hear me?”
“Ben?” She moaned and tears leaked from behind her closed eyes.
He scooped her into his arms and her head lolled back, her hands swinging limply down.
“I’m taking you to the doctor now. He’ll make the pain go away.” With Saria tight against his chest, he raced to the main building, shouldered the control room’s door open and yelled at Tyler. “I’ve got her.”
“I’ll cover you.” Tyler shot to his feet, his hand on his weapon.