Hugh met him there, throwing the door wide. “What is it?”

“Did Delaney drink anything today?”

“Alcoholic? No. Why?”

“One of the deputies was with Nick Hardwin when I called the 10-57 in so Nick helped search the crowd.”

“And?”

“The gargoyle spotted her with two largish men. She looked like she was being supported by them. Possibly under the influence of something. They helped her into a black SUV and took off before Hardwin could follow. He got a partial plate, though.”

“He can bloody fly, damn it. Why didn’t he take to the air?”

Merrow’s eyes narrowed. “Because we have rules about that sort of thing. Rules your grandmother put into place.”

“Rules that should be broken when a life is at stake.” Hugh swore again. “Where were they headed?”

“North most likely. Into the mountains past the park. There are hundreds of cabins and hideaways up there. They could be anywhere.”

That area started directly behind Hugh’s backyard. It was one of the reasons he’d built here, to have that buffer of forest between him and the rest of the town. Hugh’s hands tightened into fists, his body tensing with the anticipation of what was to come. “Mobilize everyone you can think of. We need to search the area.”

Delaney woke with her head hanging down and her body strapped to a hard wooden chair. She tugged at her hands, but they were bound behind her with zip ties. Her ankles were secured the same way to the legs of the chair.

Duct tape covered her mouth. She lifted her head a few inches and pain radiated from her shoulder. She remembered being stabbed with a needle. That explained how they’d knocked her out and dragged her off the street.

Crap on a cracker, she’d been abducted. Panic shot through her, making her gulp air but there was no air to be had, not with duct tape sealing her mouth. She had to calm down.

Approximately 400 cacao beans make one pound of chocolate.

People who feel depressed eat about 55% more chocolate than non-depressed people.

July 20th was National Lollipop Day.

Her breathing was back to normal, and although she was still scared out of her mind, she knew she needed to do whatever she could to keep herself alive long enough to be rescued. That meant clues.

The room had stairs leading upstairs, and judging by the lack of windows, she guessed it was a basement of a cabin. Oaky paneling covered the walls, and varnished lengths of light, knotted wood that looked like branches stripped of bark made up the stair handrail. Where was she? The smell of mildew and coffee didn’t give her much insight.

Footsteps and muted voices sounded from upstairs. Maybe from the two men who had grabbed her. Thinking about them made her shiver in fear. Not a good direction for her mind to wander in.

She went back to assessing the room. It was a typical basement—big-screen TV, worn plaid couch from an era best forgotten, an old recliner and a few knickknacks. An open door across from her led into a small bathroom.

She tried inching the chair forward and almost fell over. She growled in frustration. Above her, a door opened and a light over the stairs flicked on. “Hey. She’s awake.”

At the sound of the Brooklyn accent, she went still. These had to be more of Rastinelli’s crew. Crap. She was in all kinds of trouble.

Panic made her breathe harder, which caused her to suck in against the duct tape. It made a faint whistling sound. Calm down.

Why had she walked away from Hugh? She knew why. He’d been giving her the cold shoulder and her fear of confrontation had made her leave. In retrospect, facing off with Hugh would have been a much better decision.

She could have at least told him off like she had her father at his wedding. Heavy, plodding footsteps started down the stairs. Now she’d probably never get that chance.

She turned her head to see who was coming. One of the guys from the street. At least it looked like one of the guys. It had all happened so fast.

He stood in front of her, his black Adidas track suit and gold chain with the Italian horn not that familiar after all. A get up like that she would have remembered. He jerked his head at her, one hand resting on his protruding gut. A gold ring with the Masons symbol set onto a red stone was wedged onto his fat sausage of a pinky. “Hello there. You’re Delaney, right?”

She grunted at him, her fear giving way to anger. What did he expect her to do with duct tape over her mouth? Sing him an aria?

“Oh yeah.” He reached down and ripped the duct tape off.

She said a very unladylike word, followed by, “Ow.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, but you know.” He shrugged.

“No, I don’t know.” He looked like a guy who’d be named something like Fat Eddie or Tommy Two Fingers. Except he had all his fingers. Fat Eddie it was. She glared at him. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“Kidnap? Whoa, that’s a loaded word there, girly. We’s just wanted to talk to you. That’s all.”

“We who? You and that other goon that dragged me off the street?” She glared at him. “People are already looking for me. Dangerous people.”

He laughed. “Sweetheart, I’m about as dangerous as they get. I don’t think your little friends are gonna be much of a threat.”

“You’re dangerous, are you? And why’s that?”

His jovial nature went icy in a split second. “Because my boss and your boss are the same man, but I do a very different kinda job for him, if you get my drift.”