Secret Refuge. Dana Mentink
like a thorn. Just find out the truth and he’ll be gone. She poked a toe at a pile of empty snack-cake wrappers, muscles tensing. “Mick...”
He stood. “Uh-huh?”
She stared at the wrappers, sticky with icing. “My sister never could understand how Tucker had no sweet tooth whatsoever. She always told me it was unnatural.”
They locked eyes.
With the wire, he teased a receipt out of a discarded plastic grocery bag. “Purchased last night at a Pick and Pack a couple of miles from here.” He squinted at the time stamp. “Just after eleven.”
Cold trickled down her spine. “I have a feeling Tucker has someone helping him.”
“Gonna keep looking,” he said.
He pushed open the door of the office. She was about to follow him inside when out of the corner of her eye she caught the blur of movement, followed by the crash of the stairwell door being flung open behind her.
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