Chapter 64
sixty-four
JO
Wait. That was what Gavin told me to do.
It might be a little easier to do if I wasn’t so acutely aware that time is not on our side in situations like this.
Every case we’ve covered on our podcast or a simple internet search will tell you the probability of them being found alive decreases by the second.
The only hope I’m clinging to like a lifeline is that Patrick took them to get to me.
“It just doesn’t make sense!” I scream in frustration.
“What doesn’t, dear?”
I’ve been pacing the ancient floor of the bed-and-breakfast for the last hour. Gavin told me I needed to leave the house since it was clear Patrick could bypass the security there. Although, I’m still not convinced he didn’t get lucky. Ezra had that place on lockdown.
“Sorry, Jeanne,” I tell the elderly owner.
She has shock-white hair in the style of a cotton ball and so many wrinkles you’d think she was the same age as this house.
The plaque on the front of the Victorian Era mansion states it was built in 1885.
Sometimes New England feels drenched in ancient magic, and if this woman and house are the same age, I think I’d believe it.
“Nonsense. These old bones have lived many lifetimes. Maybe I can help with whatever you’re struggling with.”
I bite my bottom lip while I think. I can’t call Harlow because even though I know fuck-all about pregnancy, I’m pretty sure stress is bad.
I already called Willa when I left the house, and they’re all on their way here.
It wasn’t why I called, and I’m not positive it’s a great idea, but I can’t be alone with this right now.
I can’t break like I want to or Maverick and Ezra will suffer.
Will die. That can’t happen. I won’t let it.
Taking a deep breath, I lower myself onto the pink floral couch next to Jeanne.
“I’ll start from the beginning.” I tell the old woman everything from the moment Ezra saw Gianna’s murder to his disappearance.
I tell her about when I started working for Maverick and the band and Patrick’s involvement as their fake manager.
I just let everything spill, not sure if I’m hoping she’ll find some answers in this mess that I couldn’t or if saying it out loud will help somehow.
“I still don’t think Patrick’s obsession with me makes sense. Everyone is assuming he just traded his obsession from Eva to me, but I don’t really believe he was obsessed with her either.”
“Hmm,” Jeanne hums, tapping her chin with a red-tipped, gnarled finger and frowning in concentration.
She’s probably thinking what everyone else did when I mentioned it, that Patrick had my pictures everywhere and a doll that resembled me.
The evidence is there, and I’m in denial.
I probably am, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something.
“Could be a distraction from whatever he’s actually up to.
It seems strange they found his apartment so easily after he fled. ”
“Exactly!” I exclaim, maybe a little too excited to have someone to discuss this with.
Ezra wouldn’t hear it because he thought I was trying to make a case for leaving the safe house, and Maverick said it didn’t matter because he wouldn’t risk me if we were wrong.
The thought of what they could be going through right now stabs at my heart like a hot knife.
“What’s the motive? If Eva is gone, what does he need you for?” Jeanne asks.
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot.
There’s a chance he doesn’t have one, and he’s just insane, but I don’t think that’s true.
Revenge seemed plausible for a moment, but there’s been nothing to corroborate that either.
There’s no evidence that he was anything to Eva other than an employee.
A lot of assumptions have been thrown around and that’s dangerous in situations like this.
“You said Eva knew Gianna was dead this whole time, yet she was insisting Maverick marry someone. Who was that? Is it possible Maverick has remained the target and Patrick could get whatever Eva was promised?” Jeanne asks, and my eyes go wide.
We never figured out who it was that Eva wanted Maverick to marry since he was refusing, and there’s no way anyone of us would let it happen.
Could Patrick have taken over Eva’s operation?
He was her right-hand man, but he doesn’t have any of the political connections she had.
“Maverick’s the target. He’s always been the target,” I whisper in horror.
The day Jason’s house blew up, and Ezra took me to the cliff house runs through my brain.
He should’ve grabbed Maverick like he had tried to do in the first place.
This is my fault. I’ve been used as a distraction for Patrick to get what he wants.
Harrison’s insistence that they only stay in a hotel for a single night must be what kept him safe this long.
“It would seem,” Jeanne agrees.
“I need to find him!” I jump up from the couch and make it as far as the front door before I realize I don’t even know where to start. “Fuck!”
“Come, dear. I’ll make you some tea while we wait for your friends. You said one is a detective?” I nod, unable to correct her that Harrison is a former sheriff, but I don’t think it matters. I let her take me by the hand, hers so warm and strong around my shaking ones. “He’ll know where to look.”
He better. I’ll burn this fucking world to the ground to find him. To find them both.