Chapter 57
Fifty-Seven
“Hell isn’t fire, it’s silence. It’s knowing she’s out there, and I can’t fucking find her.” Cyan MacBrady.
“Special Agent Alex was on paid suspension,” Sebastian says from the other end of the call.
“He and his partner Special Agent Lia were under investigation for taking bribes. Just left her place… her apartment’s crawling with cops.
She was found hanging from her balcony this morning.
” I hear rhythmic clicking through the line as Sebastian flicks his blinker.
“They’re calling it a suicide. But knowing what we know, it could be a ruse, Lorenzo covering his tracks.
Sorry C, it’s looking like this lead is another dead end. ”
“Fuck!” I throw my phone across the office.
It hits the wall and shatters. My hands swipe across my desk, sending everything crashing to the floor.
That was our last lead. Aria and Olivia, who isn’t even using her real fucking name, are gone.
We found her getaway car abandoned in a underground parking garage.
Not a single trace of where she took Aria.
Jake hacked every traffic camera along the route.
Nothing. J the lines around his eyes are more distinct.
“It’s all gone in the wind… fucking scraps and nothing to show for it.” I snap, pacing. “Jake’s got nothing. Olivia could teach Houdini a few tricks. She’s vanished with my girl like a fucking ghost.”
Collin hands me the new phone. In a rare show of affection, he steps closer and rests a hand on my shoulder. “We’re with you, C. We’ll find her. We’ll burn every bridge and turn over every fucking rock until she’s found.”
I exhale hard, trying to breathe through my madness. “Did you get anything out of Aria’s boss, Simon?”
Collin shakes his head. “Nah, the poor bastard knew nothing. He met Olivia at a bar, thought she was hot, and hired her on the spot.” If Collin says Simon didn’t know shit, I believe him. I know the methods he uses to grind info out of a person.
“What about the bar where he picked her up?” I ask.
“I sent one of our guys to pull the camera footage,” Thomas cuts in.
“For a moment, I thought we’d caught a break.
Since the owner backs everything up to the cloud.
.. But no, Olivia’s a pro, always keeps her face turned or hidden.
We checked the surrounding businesses, and it was the same thing.
Like you said, the girl’s a fucking ghost.”
“Fuck!” I slam my fists against the desk again.
“We know from Johnny that Lorenzo ordered Aria’s snatch,” Collin mutters. “Any closer to finding that fucker?”
“We’re working on it,” Thomas says. “Jake’s digging. He’ll turn something.”
I rake both hands through my hair, pressure building behind my eyes. “What about the mole, Collin?”
“Still nothing. Everyone’s been checked out and cleared.”
“The offshore accounts?” I snap. “Troy find anything?”
Collin’s fingers fly fast over his phone screen and looks my way. “Troy’s still combing through the books.”
Something isn’t adding up. I feel it in my bones. I grab the nearest chair and swing it into the desk. Once, twice, on the third, wood splinters. The sound is a sharp crack, violent, bouncing off the walls, but it’s not enough.
Thomas steps in front of me. “Cyan. We all want her back. But breaking shit isn’t helping her. We need a plan. I need you focused. Use that big brain of yours and–.”
I cut him off. “Don’t you get it? It’s Aria. Every second we sit here talking, she’s sinking deeper into whatever hell Lorenzo dragged her into.”
Thomas’s control fractures. “You think I don’t feel it?
” His voice cracks. “Gracie’s unconscious.
Fighting for her life. My daughter watched the whole thing.
” I still and really take him in. Thomas’s suit is the same one from yesterday—wrinkled, disheveled.
His hair looks like he’s been dragging his fingers through it for hours.
He mirrors my own wrecked state in every way.
“Fuck, Thomas,” I whisper. “I didn’t even ask about Gracie. Or Evie. How are they?”
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. We’re all drowning.” He swallows. “Gracie made it through surgery. She’s critical. The next few hours will tell us everything.”
“Why aren’t you with her?”
“Her parents showed up.” He stares out the window, his jaw tight. “Her mom lost it. Started screaming, it’s my fault, she kicked me out.”
“And you let her?”
His eyes glaze over. “I left because the yelling wasn’t good for Gracie. I posted men at the door.” He exhales hard. “And because I need to be here doing something or I’ll start going mad. We need to find the bitch who shot her and threatened Evie.”
“How is Evie?”
Thomas drags his hands through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know. She’s in shock. Not talking much. Once Rosa arrives, she latches onto her and won’t let go.”
“And Lucilla?” I ask, hoping for once she puts the alcohol aside and be there for her kid.
He lets out a bitter laugh. “Texted me before all this when down saying she ‘needed space.’ She’s flying to L.A.
to see her parents.” His mouth twists. “I tried calling to tell her what happen with Evie. She won’t answer my calls.
She finally texted an hour ago, said Evie isn’t hurt, so she doesn’t need to come back. ”
“Fucking bitch.”
“I wanted Evie to have a two-parent home,” Thomas says quietly. “Better than what Troy and I had.”
I think back to what Aria said about Evie being caught in the middle of a terrible marriage. She was right. Of course, she was. I let this go on for too long.
“When this is over, Thomas–file for divorce.”
“Yeah.” Thomas exhales, guilt bleeding through. “Sometimes I think we’re selfish. Bringing women and kids into this life.” His eyes lift to mine. “Look what it’s done to Gracie, to Aria, and to Evie.”
“Bullshit,” Collin cuts in. “Nasty shit happens every day. Regular people get destroyed too. Gracie will pull through; we’ll find Aria, and your daughter–she’ll be okay.”
“Damn right,” I say.
Thomas studies Collin, then snorts and lights a joint. He takes a long drag before passing it over to me. “Jesus, Col. Never thought you’d be the emotional voice of reason.”
Before Collin can respond, Thomas’s phone buzzes. He answers, listens for a second, then looks at me. “Gracie’s awake. She wants to speak with us. Our guy says she has information about Aria.”
I stub out the joint. “Let’s go. Now.”
I push past them, my mind collapsing into a single point, Aria. The drive to the hospital blurs into streaks of light and noise. Red lights, green lights, none of it matters. It’s the longest damn ride of my life.
The automatic doors open to Gracie’s hospital room door, antiseptic burning my lungs. Machines beep in uneven rhythms, all attached to Gracie. Wires snake across her fragile body, bandages, monitors, and a blood bag. I follow the dripline to her pale skin against white sheets. My gut twists.
Gracie’s mother sees Thomas and explodes. “I told you not to come here! Leave!” Her sharp Japanese English accent slices through the room as she steps between us and the bed. I don’t move. Not when the key to finding Aria might be lying right there.
“Gracie asked for me,” Thomas says, voice tight, controlled. He’s holding on to his temper by his teeth. “This is just like high school and college!” she snaps. “You’re a bad influence. When will my daughter finally see you for what you are?”
Her hands are in his face now. I can see Thomas takes a slight step back.
He takes a deep inhale of air. “This isn’t good for Gracie,” he says.
“Her friend Aria is missing. She has information and asked to talk to us.” My patience burns down to ash.
Every second wasted is another second Aria stays gone.
“You’re not police!” Mrs. Hoshia shouts. “Why doesn’t she speak to the police?” A doctor rushes in, alarm flashing across his face. “What’s going on here? This is a trauma ward. The patient just came out of surgery. This yelling isn’t helping her recovery.”
“Agreed, Doc,” I say, stepping forward. “I’m Cyan MacBrady, Gracie’s friend. This shouting isn’t helping anyone. Gracie asked to speak with us. If Mrs. Hoshia would like a coffee while we talk, we’ll leave immediately after.” His eyes flicker at my name. He hesitates.
“You all need to leave.” If my girl weren’t missing, the good doctor would have earned my respect. But if he attempts to get in my way, I’ll show him why I’m called The Púca.
I don’t have time for this. Not today, when Aria’s life may be ticking down by the second. “ Look here Doc. I don’t want to stress Gracie either.” I crack my knuckles, tone dropping. “But we are going to speak with her. You can decide whether or not you’re conscious… when we do.”
The doctor pales. “Mr. and Mrs. Hoshia p-please. Come with me.”
Gracie’s father rises quietly. I’d almost forgotten he was there.
Unlike his wife, he doesn’t shout or posture–just watches, calm and unreadable.
Mrs. Hoshia looks ready to argue again, but the doctor cuts her off.
“This atmosphere isn’t good for Gracie’s healing.
The sooner they speak with her, the sooner she can rest.”
That does it. Her mother hesitates, then storms toward the door, shooting Thomas a glare sharp enough to peel paint. Gracie’s father follows without a word, his gaze lingering a beat too long before he turns away.
“That woman hates you,” Collin mutters, deadpan.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Thomas replies as we approach Gracie’s bedside.
“Gracie,” I say, trying to sound lighter than I feel. “Your mom’s still an unbending force.”
She manages a faint smile. “Yeah...” She swallows. I can see the center of her eyes crinkle with pain, but she fights through it and continues speaking, “but it comes from love. I scared her.”
“I’m sorry this happened to you.”
She blinks. “I’m a big girl, Cyan. No one dragged me into the elevator. No one made that bitch shoot me.” Her voice rasps. “Just return the favor when you catch her.”
Thomas huffs. “You know us. We always do.”
“How’s Evie?” Gracie asks.
“She’s safe,” Thomas says, taking her hand. “Rosa’s with her.”
“She wasn’t hurt?”
“Not a scratch. She’s worried about you.”
“Then bring her. She needs to see that I’m okay.” Gracie’s voice trembles. I glance between them. Thomas should’ve been with her all along, and his marrying Lucilla never should’ve happened. Silence stretches. I force myself to ask the question that matters.
“Gracie? About Aria.”
She bites her lip. “Cyan... please don’t be angry with her. Aria was going to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“I’m breaking her trust,” Gracie says, barely audible. “Promise me you’ll still find her. No matter what.”
“I promise,” I say. “We will find her.”
She nods, wincing. “The night Aria was attacked in the alley… she was there because of Detective Ethan. He tried to recruit her–to spy on you. She said no.” Ice floods my veins.
“He tried again, and she refused. He told her she’d regret it.” Gracie’s breath stutters. “And the woman who shot me.” Her eyes meet mine. “She’s the one who handed Aria the phone.”