Missing in Flight

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR JACK

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

J ACK

Jack opens the door as soon as he hears the elevator arrive on his floor. Sabrina’s gaze falls to his bare chest before she embraces him in a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Jack.”

He steps back, wishing he’d thrown something on over his boxers. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is finding Liam.

Sabrina closes the door behind her and follows him inside. When they reach the kitchen, Jack turns to the woman he’s known since he was a kid. Her cutoff denim shorts and white tank top are a stark contrast to what she normally wears to the office. She looks younger, more like the girl he used to know.

She wore practically the same thing the night of their high school graduation, when she used the fire escape to sneak into Jack’s bedroom after their parents had gone to bed. Jack’s father had worked late, as usual, missing his graduation ceremony. Jack lay awake, trying to fill the void of his father’s absence with the latest Pearl Jam CD, when Sabrina tapped on his third-story window.

After he pulled her inside, she withdrew a prerolled joint from her shorts pocket. They stayed up the rest of the night, making each other laugh, followed by shushing each other to keep from waking Jack’s parents.

Jack wonders if Sabrina changed after working for her father. Or has she always been the ruthless woman he’s come to know?

“So, what’s happening on the plane? Have you talked to Makayla?”

Jack opens his bottle of scotch and, with a trembling hand, pours some into the crystal tumbler sitting on the counter. The amber liquid sloshes onto the white marble.

“Here.” Sabrina steps closer. “Let me do that for you.”

As he allows her to take the bottle from his hand, Jack gets a whiff of her freshly sprayed floral perfume. He studies her steady pour, wanting to believe she has nothing to do with Liam’s disappearance.

“Remember the night, after our high school graduation, when I snuck into your room, and we stayed up all night listening to Pearl Jam?”

Her eyes meet his, and he wonders what it was that triggered her to recall the same memory he did moments earlier.

“Look, I know I can be heartless sometimes,” she says. “When you rejected me all those years ago, it hurt. And I lashed out.” She pushes the tumbler toward him after filling it halfway. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you know about your father?”

“The fraud? Yes.” She doesn’t even blink.

Of course she did, he thinks. He nearly laughs at himself for being so naive. She’s a snake. He was an idiot to ever doubt how much she and her father were capable of. To not see who they really were.

But he still doesn’t understand their level of greed when they already have so much. “Is it really worth embezzling from clients and risking imprisonment to have a closet full of Prada?”

Her lipsticked lips lift into a wry smile. “It’s a hell of a lot more than that, Jack, and you know it. Plus, I don’t see you complaining about living in a place like this.” She swipes her manicured hand through the air.

It’s ironic to think how big his problems seemed before the FBI had shown up at his door. He’d lain in bed hoping Sabrina might be the key to making the whole thing go away, thinking she might be able to convince her father to turn himself in. But Jack should’ve known better.

She’s never cared about anyone but herself. Not his marriage, not his job, not the people she and Lionel have been stealing from. He recalls standing in her office years ago when she threatened to lie to Makayla and her father about an affair that never happened. It strikes him that it was probably her idea to blame the fraud on him.

Now, it all pales in comparison to Liam’s abduction.

Sabrina lays her hand on his forearm. “I wanted to tell you. Really, I did. We never meant for it to get so out of hand. But let’s not talk about that now. It’s only money. A bunch of numbers that keep daddy in brandy and cigars, summering in the Hamptons, and wintering in Palm Beach, and yes, my closet full of Prada. But none of that really matters, I know. Liam matters.” She sighs. “You’ve done it right, Jack. Having a family. I should’ve spent more time with the people I care about, rather than sacrificing so much for the job.”

Me too, he thinks.

“Now, I just want to be here for you until they find your son.”

Jack wishes he could believe her. If there was a time he could use a friend, it was now. He leaves his glass untouched, knowing her being here now is likely part of her and her father’s elaborate plan. He clenches both hands into fists. She and Lionel must’ve known Jack would suspect them—at least after he discovered the fraud yesterday. So she came here to convince him otherwise. Preying on him when he’s at his weakest.

He thinks about the time it would’ve taken for the FBI to visit Lionel, and for him to call his daughter. Then for her to get here from her loft in Chelsea. Jack takes a step toward her, lowering his face toward hers. All those years ago, she tried to come between him and Makayla. But does she think she can mess with his child ?

She tilts her face toward his, pressing her palms against his chest. Jack swipes the tumbler off the counter and hurls it across the room. Sabrina shrieks as the glass shatters against the wall.

Jack grabs her upper arms and squeezes. “Why are you really here? What have you done? ”

“Jack, let go. You’re hurting me!” Her eyes double in size as she squirms beneath his grip.

Jack leans closer. “Where’s Liam?” His scream echoes through the apartment.

A drop of his spit lands on her cheek.

“I don’t know!”

Jack grits his teeth, grappling with the urge to shake her. He glares at her, their noses almost touching. Terror seeps from Sabrina’s hazel eyes when Jack’s phone chimes on the marble countertop with a new message. He glances at the screen, keeping his grip tight around Sabrina’s arms. It’s from Makayla.

A floorboard creaks in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Jack turns his attention toward the direction of the sound. Footsteps tread down the hall. Sabrina cocks her head to follow Jack’s gaze.

A tall, dark figure emerges from the hallway with a gun pointed at Sabrina’s head. Before Jack can move, a muffled gunshot fills the condo. Sabrina’s head flops to the side.

She goes limp beneath his hold.

“Sabrina!”

The intruder stands still. A black balaclava covers his face. The masked man keeps his gun trained on Jack as he lowers himself to the floor with Sabrina’s lifeless body.

“Sabrina!”

“Keep your voice down,” the intruder barks.

Jack cradles his childhood friend’s head in his blood-covered hands, gaping at the bullet hole in her temple and the vacancy in her eyes before looking up at her killer. The man steps toward him, aiming his pistol at Jack’s chest with a gloved hand. Jack’s heart hammers into his throat as his eyes settle on the silencer at the end of the barrel.

“Throw me your phone.”

Jack carefully lowers Sabrina’s head to the floor and stands.

The intruder steps closer, sharpening his aim at Jack’s forehead. “Throw me the phone and put your hands in the air, or your son dies.”