In a small town, in a popular bar, beautiful women disappear. This could just be a coincidence, but private investigators, Carson, Matt and Nathalie don’t believe in them. So they go undercover.
However, when one of the missing women turns up dead, the trio is disturbed to learn the woman bore a striking resemblance to Nathalie; they increase their efforts. When Nathalie disappears from the same bar, Carson and Matt will do anything to find her.
*Contains explicit descriptions of sex, strong language, and descriptions of violence.*
Quiet sobbing bounced off the cinderblocks, before a creak overhead cut through the sound.
“Shh,” Ruth hissed. “He’s coming.”
Thump-thump-thump. Agatha stared at the exposed floor joists and followed the dull creaks and thumps with her eyes. If she leaned far to the left she could just make out a set of rickety steps at the far end of the room.
Were they in a basement or cellar? It had to be a cellar since the floor was solid packed dirt and not concrete. She touched the wall. Cool, but not damp. She squinted at the mortar. New. She swung her attention to the bars and wood at the front of the cell.
The iron held a faint sheen or newness, same as the door. No warping or dullness to give it that old and neglected feel. She sniffed the air. The faint scent of fresh cut wood filled her nostrils. She sniffed again. Was that varnish she smelled?
Clomp-clomp squeak. Tension rose. Agatha tightened her hands into fists at her side. She held her breath as the footsteps came closer. His scent, a subtle woodsy pine, hit her first.
“Good evenings, ladies,” he greeted. His voice was low and gravelly, like he’d been a chain smoking hardcore drunkard all his life. “I trust you’re giving our new edition the rules?”
“Why did you bring me here?” Agatha demanded.
He moved closer, but his face remained in shadows. “To keep you safe?”
“Safe from what?”