Taken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Third Season Read Free Page A

sense, anyway. There hadn’t been any activity on her passport, and I was pretty sure I hadn’t exposed her to enough of my life for her to know who to contact to get a fake one. I only prayed she hadn’t come to be involved with someone else who could get her a fake passport.
    The number of reports had dwindled over the past few months—until her father had reentered the presidential race a few days ago. Then they had blossomed once again, almost to the point of being ridiculous. But there was something about this one—this report from a teenage girl. A random social media posting that even her friends probably ignored … something about it screamed at me. I felt it in my gut—this was the one. This one in wherever-the-fuck, Maine. Some random small town where Jen would have fit right in. Some bored girl, forced by her parents to go on a vacation she didn’t want to take, had posted that the lady who sold her a sweatshirt at some stupid gift shop in some podunk town in Maine had looked exactly like Jenna Davis. Jenna Davis with red hair. Some random comment by a pissed off teenager had led me back to her. I knew it. I could feel it in my gut.
    I pulled open the door to the office of the only real estate agent in town. On a normal day, the jingling of the bells on the other side of the door would have annoyed the hell out of me, but I knew this wasn’t an ordinary day. This was the day I would find her. Get her back. I wasn’t going to get my hopes up—not yet, but this was the most hopeful I had felt since that awful day last October. The day I was taken from her.
    I didn’t have time to get lost in the memories of what had happened. I had a small-town real estate agent to charm—to fool into thinking I would actually buy a house in a hell-hole town like this. Those jingling bells actually had me feeling hopeful—almost excited at the prospect of seeing her. I just had to be careful. I knew if Jen caught wind that I was looking for her, she might run. She would probably be stupid not to. Considering I had no idea what Jen was thinking—only that she had to be hiding for some reason—the sight of me should scare the holy hell out of her.
    The woman behind the desk smiled at me as she stood up, extending her hand. “Can I help you?”
    These days, I normally had to grit my teeth to even force a smile to my face, but not today. Today, it came easily. Today, it almost wasn’t fake. I extended my hand to shake hers. “Yes, I was wondering if you had any beachfront properties available in the area. I’m trying to surprise my fiancée with a new weekend place. We’ve visited here a few times, and she just loves it.” They weren’t all lies. Jen would be my fiancée if I could ever find her, and I had no doubt that she would love a place like this. I also knew that even though I was wearing jeans and a button-down shirt, I looked out of place. There was no way I would pass for a local, even if I tried to tell her I lived in one of the other podunk towns dotting the winding highway that ran up the Maine coastline.
    She cocked her head—it was pretty obvious that she didn’t do a lot of business. It wasn’t that I didn’t respect the one-woman show she had going on here, but it wasn’t exactly a high-end realty office, either. “So you want a place to spend the weekends? Are you driving in from Bangor, or…?”
    Why the fuck do people have to ask so many goddamned questions? I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to keep the smile on my face.
    “Boston.” I only prayed that she didn’t know that city any better than I did. Why did it matter where I was going to come from, anyway? I took a deep breath to calm myself—none of this mattered. I just needed to know if Jen was here. I didn’t give a damn about her properties or vacation homes. I only wanted to find Jen.
    My answer seemed to satisfy her, because her smile widened. “Boston. Lovely city.” She walked around her desk and took a small stack of