I snort, lifting can number three to my lips.
“Whatever, Jace. Look where it got me. Nice guys finish last. Every. Fucking. Time.”
I turn my back on her, looking out the window as I gulp the brew down. At this rate, I very well might go through a case today. And that’s fine.
I hear Jacey behind me, lingering, trying to decide what to say. It annoys the f**k out of me.
“Just go, Jacey,” I tell her firmly. “Seriously. Have a safe flight.”
She flies back to me, throwing herself at me, hugging me tight. Her arms clamp around my throat and I have to pry them off so I can breathe.
“What the hell?”
She glances up at me, her eyes watery. “I’m sorry she hurt you, Brand. It sucks. I don’t know why she left, but you deserve to be happy.”
I look away. “Yeah. I do. But you know what they say…”
“What do they say?”
A voice comes from the doorway, a voice with a French accent.
Jesus. Do people not ever knock around here?
Camille Greene stands elegantly in the woodshop, as out of place among the dust and wood shavings as Maxwell had been on the porch.
She stares from Jacey to me, curiosity in her blue eyes, at the way Jacey is draped around my neck, but she doesn’t say anything else.
“It doesn’t matter what they say,” I mutter, and I gently push Jacey off my lap. I stare at her, my expression firm.
“Go back to the UK. Go be with your husband. I’ll be fine.”
She nods. “Fine. But call me if you need me.” She takes a step, then two, then turns around.
“I just have to say this one thing. I don’t know her very well, but Nora didn’t look like someone who wanted to leave, Brand. I don’t know why else she would be leaving, but she didn’t look like it was a choice she wanted to make.”
This yanks my head up. “Why do you say that?”
Jacey shakes her head. “I can’t explain it. It was just a look in her eyes.”
A look in her eyes. Jesus. Leave it to a woman to say something like that.
Jacey turns and walks past Camille, who then steps further inside.
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” she tells me elegantly. “I’m sorry.”
“How did you know to look for me in here?” I ask her curiously. She shrugs her slim shoulders.
“You weren’t at the other cottage, and I knew this was your parents’. So I came looking.”
I stare at her, at her silk pantsuit and her perfectly coiffed hair, her jewels, her expensive taste.
“Why?”
My question is as stark as I feel.
She returns my gaze without flinching.
“Because I agree with your friend. My daughter has run away, and I don’t think she wanted to. And I need your help to get her back.”
For just one second, I feel hope rise inside of me, but then I snort and turn away, because I remember why Nora ran away.
“She ran from me,” I answer coldly, getting up and walking toward the fridge again. I unload three more beers into my arms before I walk back. “Because I’m not what she wants, and she didn’t want to be here anymore. So I won’t be of much help in finding her.”
Camille steps forward and puts her hand on my arm. It’s slender and cool and I look at her. Her face is pained, worried. From here, I can see that she’s tired. Like she didn’t sleep much.
“Nora texted me in the middle of the night,” Camille continues, like I’d not spoken at all. “It was very strange. I know you know that all is not right in my family. I feel like I can trust you… that I can tell you this.” She draws in a big breath.
“I told Nora once that if William ever hurt her, to come to me instead of her father. Because there are things she doesn’t know. Maxwell isn’t… well, it doesn’t matter right now. But what does matter is that she texted me last night. This is what it said.”
She pulls her phone from her purse, finds the text and hands it to me.
Mom,
You were right. William is a monster. But I’m going to do something about it. You might not see me for a while. But I love you. Don’t worry. Either way, everything is finally going to be ok.
The words, so stark and formal, cut through me and send chills down my spine. It doesn’t sound like Nora at all… unless she was desperate. And she sounds desperate.
What the f**k did I miss?
“What does she mean that she’s going to do something about it?” Camille asks me in a whisper, her forehead furrowed and her fingers gripping my arm. “What is she going to do?”
I shake my head slowly from side to side, trying to wrap my mind around the words.
“I don’t know what happened. She went to work yesterday… said she had to meet her father to go over case files. When she came back, she acted strange.”
My voice trails off, but Camille is already shaking her head. “She didn’t meet Maxwell yesterday. He was at the house. All day.”
We look at each other and Camille is already pulling out her phone.
She punches in a number, then waits. “Hello? Darleen? It’s Camille. Darling, I can’t get a hold of William. Is he traveling?”
She pauses.
“He’s flying out of San Francisco for Dubai? On the company jet?”
A pause.
“Okay. Is he the only traveler listed on the flight manifest?”
Another pause, and her eyes meet mine.
“Okay. Well, I’ll just call Nora then. Thank you, Darleen.”
She pushes end and I can see her finger shaking.
“What’s wrong?”
She looks at me again. “William and Nora are taking the corporate jet to Dubai this evening. It was supposed to fly out this afternoon, but there’s been some sort of delay at the airport. Something about the flight patterns, etc. That’s not important. The important thing is that Nora is leaving with William. There’s no reason that she would do that, unless somehow, he’s making her.”
My stomach drops and the hair rises on the back of my neck as I remember the way William watched Nora at the dinner party, at the way his eyes undressed her. It gives me chills even now.