She Once Disappeared

She Once Disappeared An Artemis Blythe Mystery Thriller Book 7 Georgia Wagner Text Copyright © 2023 Georgia Wagner Publisher: Greenfield Press Ltd The right of Georgia Wagner to be identified as author of the Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 All rights reserved. The book is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. ‘She Once Disappeared” is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, and events or locations is entirely coincidental. Table of Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 What’s Next for Artemis? Also by Georgia Wagner Want to know more? About the Author Chapter 1 Artemis Blythe stood drenched and terrified, water tapping around her, as she stared at the glaring headlights of the sedan. Otto Blythe, the Ghost-killer, emerged from the back seat of the warden's car, a free man. He stood under the rain-soaked skies, a smile twisting his cheeks. Otto had neat, silver hair that dangled in curls daintily around his ears. He gently massaged his wrists as the warden uncuffed him and sent him striding with his ever-confident gait toward his daughter. He had the energy of a man half his age and smiled warmly as he drew near, his whole face lighting up with the expression, even as raindrops streaked his features. “Artemis, dear!” he called out, beaming. “I knew you'd come around.” Her father closed the gap between them, but she held out a hand, snapping, “Wait! Stop!” He froze. Five paces away, watching her quizzically as if he couldn't fathom why on earth she might want him to hang back. The warden's car door slammed. Doler's phone was out the window, recording a video of the two of them. Further insurance, she supposed. But he wouldn't need it. The warden's car screeched as it rushed past them, spraying mud against both of their pant legs. And then it disappeared, angry brake lights vanishing behind the trees, leaving the father and daughter alone in the dark, in the forest preserve parking lot, without a witness in sight. Artemis Blythe's heart pounded, and it felt as if she were trapped in a dream. She stared at the Ghost-killer, and he smiled back at her. As she faced the monster from her past, the man whose actions had stolen everything from her, it almost felt as if she were having an out-of-body experience. Her heart pounded, and it was as if she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. She stared at her father, eyes narrowed, breathing in shallow puffs. Her fingers tapped against the hem of her sweater, which was damp like her hair and skin. She didn't know what she was supposed to say. That was the strangest part. All of this effort, all of this sacrifice—she'd found the truth about a decades old case in order to blackmail the warden of her father's prison. She'd left Cameron Forester behind—gunshots resounding in the house they'd been hiding in. She still didn't know if he'd been shot. A lance of worry jolted through her. But Otto Blythe was now leaning in, arms extended as if to hug her. And so, she kneed him in the groin. It was an instinctual thing, really. One moment his arms spread, attempting to wrap around her, the next her knee arching up and slamming between his unmentionables. He made a sound like a leaking balloon, doubling over and gasping at the ground. Water poured from his lips, and he rasped at the mud, wheezing. Artemis stepped hurriedly back from him, not even daring to shove him—she didn't want to touch the man. “Don't come near me!” she snarled. He was gasping, groaning at the ground. When he looked up, his damp silver curls flicked water and he breathed heavily a few times, mouth forming a small circle. He was still half bent, hands resting on his knees now as the ex-mentalist glared at her. “What the hell, Art?” he said once he'd recovered his breath, in a chiding tone like a doting father disappointed with his grade-school child. “Don't call me that,” Artemis snapped, pointing a finger at him. For a brief moment, she wondered what she might do if she had a gun. “Don't!” He tried to rise now, slowly, hands spread as if in surrender. He stepped gingerly back, keeping well-clear of any more errant knees. He shot a look over his shoulder in the direction where the warden's car had vanished and then looked back at her. “We shouldn't stay here, dear,” he said. “That Doler fellow did not seem very happy with you. Some of the things he said. Tut, tut—someone should wash his mouth out with soap.” “Shut up,” Artemis snapped. And her words were like the verbal version of what her knee had just done. He stared at her, blinking. “I'm . . . I'm confused,” he said, wincing a final time, but placing his hands on his hips now. “You rescued me from that prison.” “Rescued?” she snorted. “I broke you out of jail where you were serving a sentence for multiple homicide.” Her father shrugged. “Yes, but . . . but