Chapter 35
SYDNEY
My own bed should be a comfort.
I love my bed. I used to spend hours in it. I bought it specifically because I wanted the perfect spot to lounge.
But when I wake up the first morning after returning from Texas, the bed doesn’t feel like mine.
I’m up before the sun is, tired of tossing and turning.
I binge watch all the Die Hard movies in the early hours of the morning. I don’t want anything remotely romantic. Bring on all the explosions and good action lines.
“Yipee ki yay,” I murmur as the credits of the last one roll.
Only when they’re over do I finally pick up my phone and text Leigh and Jessie.
I’m home.
LEIGH
Already?
Wait, you got sent home?
JESSIE
I take it telling him the truth didn’t go so well.
I didn’t get sent home.
I left.
And you could definitely say that.
My heart thumps painfully against my chest. Groaning, I lift a hand, rubbing at the spot. I know that nothing physically happens to the heart when it gets broken, but that knowledge doesn’t make the ache in my chest go away.
He was okay after I admitted that I met him once before, but when I told him who I was—why I was originally there—he kind of…freaked out.
JESSIE
Met him before?
Fuck. I never got around to telling them that story.
I guess I should probably tell you everything.
JESSIE
Let’s do a phone call. I have questions.
LEIGH
Same.
Less than five minutes later, we’re on a three-way call.
“Start at the beginning,” Jessie says.
“It’s going to be a lot,” I warn them.
“You think that bothers us? Start talking,” Leigh demands.
Eyes closed, I take a deep breath. Then another. Here goes.
“The first time I met Cy, I was sixteen. My best friend Katie and I went to a Boys Next Door concert. I had this stupid plan that I was going to show up backstage and Cy was going to take one look at me and fall in love. He was going to be my first. But Katie ended up admitting that she and I were underage.”
“I’ve never heard you mention Katie,” Jessie murmurs.
The ache in my chest turns sharp. Fuck. It still hurts to talk about her. But not as badly as it used to.
“I blamed her for messing up my chance with Cy. I was sixteen and refused to see any sort of logic. I was just a pissed off teenager. So I stopped talking to her. I wouldn’t hear her out when she tried to talk to me.
On her sixteenth birthday she disappeared.
She was kidnapped by someone she met online because she was trying to show me that she wasn’t a baby.
That she could be just as cool as I was. ”
“Syd.” The tears in Leigh’s voice are clear.
“I—” My voice cracks. I inhale deeply, then clear the lump of emotion from my throat.
“I was the one who figured out what happened to her. That she had met a ‘boy’ online and made arrangements to meet him. That he was actually a man with a record who preyed on women. He took Katie. He…did things to her and then he killed her. Like she was nothing. Like she wasn’t someone’s daughter. Someone’s best friend.”
Tears sting my nose, those last few words whispered.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything before?” Jessie asks.
The tears that have been building spill over. “It was hard to talk about her.”
“But so much harder to hold in,” Jessie says. “Fuck. I can’t imagine what it was like to keep that to yourself for as long as you did.”
What does it say when a music therapist responds that way?
You should have trusted them sooner.
“Why now?” Leigh asks, sniffling.
I swipe at the tears still sliding down my cheeks with my free hand.
“It was important to tell you. Cy was the first person I ever talked to about this. I did fall for him. Even if he doesn’t believe me.”
Tears continue to fall, a mix of grief for Katie and for what could have been.
“I thought I was in love with him at sixteen. But when he rejected me, I immediately hated him. And now that I actually understand what love means, I can’t hate him.
He may hate me, but I don’t feel that way about him.
” I drag my wrist beneath my nose, not caring whether I’ve smeared snot on it or not.
“I can’t. He’s not the man I thought he was.
I fucked up. I hurt him when what I wanted to do—what I want to do—is keep him safe.
I was so relieved when Sawyer sent Cole to Texas to keep an eye on him. I wanted to stay, but—”
“Hell no!” the girls say at the same time.
I can’t help but smile at their defensiveness.
“Syd, no one expects you to stay there after that. He broke your heart,” Leigh says.
“But he can’t handle Scarlett if she shows up. You guys, she’s unhinged.” I tell them about the notes, the pictures, my dress, and, finally, her blackmail threat.
Which involves me telling them about the cabin.
“He’s the only man I’ve ever been with that didn’t need a Google map and a compass,” I finish.
“Damn, girl,” Jessie says.
Jessie has seen what happens to men who mistake loud confidence for actual skill.
“You never let people tell you what to do. But you’re letting Scarlett?” Leigh asks.
That’s the part that galls me. That I let her win.
“I hadn’t figured out who she is, and my time was running out,” I tell them.
“And you still don’t know who she is? There’s nothing? No clues?” Leigh asks, the lawyer in her coming out.
“She left notes. They’re being fingerprinted.
Cole was digging around at a psychiatric hospital in Seattle, following a lead.
And Sawyer is waiting for a call back from the ski lodge owner about the identity of the person who rented the cabin.
It was obviously Scarlett, but with any luck, this will give us more information. ”
“Does the ski lodge use an electronic record system? Or paper?” Leigh asks.
“Electronic according to Cole, but he’s been in Seattle and my setup…”
I suck in a breath. Holy shit.
I’m an idiot.
“My setup is here. I gotta go. Don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for a few days,” I tell them.
Once I sit down at my computer, I’m not getting up until I find her.
After I’ve disconnected the call, I bolt off the couch and into my room to power on my computer. As it hums to life, my phone vibrates, but I ignore it and key in my passwords to log into my systems.
“Okay, Scarlett. Time to figure out who you are,” I murmur, cracking my knuckles.
The ski lodge is easy enough to find, and their records system is right there, ready to be hacked. I’m not sure Cole could have done it even with access to my system at work, but the security on the site is no match for me. With a few keystrokes and only a couple of swear words, I’m in.
Navigating to the historical reservations system is easy. I find the date we were there and open the customer records for the week. Featherlight Studios rented the entire lodge.
The cabin was not a separate reservation.
Scarlett.
I’m close. My fingertips tingle as I continue to search.
Despite sifting through the customer records database, I can’t find the name of the person who made the reservation. There is a credit card number, though.
I open a new window and key in the credit card number.
Disappointingly, it takes me right back to Featherlight Studios. And the card isn’t assigned to a specific employee.
“Motherfucker,” I grumble, pushing back from my rig.
This calls for caffeine.
While I’m at it, I pick up my cell phone and text Sawyer and Cole.
Cole, did you run background checks on any of the Featherlight employees? Specifically those assigned to work on Searching for Love?
COLE
No. Scarlett said she was going to be on the show.
What if she meant that she was going to be WORKING on the show?
I crack open the canned energy drink and take a sip, letting it work its magic while three dots dance on my phone screen, signaling that he’s responding.
SAWYER
Sydney, run the background checks.
COLE
Did you still want me to follow up with Soundview?
Soundview? I’m confused.
I thought you were in Texas.
COLE
Featherlight called. Show’s over.
I suck in a breath and inadvertently inhale a small amount of my drink.
Eyes watering, I sputter and try to regain my breath.
At least the chest pain that comes with this is logical.
It’s nothing like the ache that grips me when I think about Cy and who he might have chosen.
Jade? Or Josie? It wasn’t like they needed two more compass ceremonies when there were only two women left.
Tears burning my nose, I close my eyes and swallow. Shit, this hurts.
You still have a job to do.
I’m going to run those background checks. I’ll let you know what I find.
The background checks reveal speeding tickets, a couple of DUIs, and a bench warrant for parking tickets.
That’ll be a fun surprise.
But no arrests. No stalking charges. No weird situations. None of the employees just popped into existence within the last few years. Their high school records, college records, public records are all there.
Maybe it’s a good thing that Cole is heading back to Seattle to Soundview.
Maybe I was wrong and it is Jade.
But I’m not done.
I start on a social media scrub next. Activated and deactivated accounts. Hidden accounts. Images that are no longer publicly shared.
While my programs run, I pull up financial records.
And find my first real piece of information.
One person who hasn’t used a debit card or credit card in the last six months.
Maybe they’ve opted to stop using credit cards.
But debit cards?
There are very few reasons a person wouldn’t want to leave record of transactions.
A notification chimes, so I click back over to the social media scrub and open it up.
Holy shit.
My jaw practically hits the floor. No fucking way. I never would have guessed. Nothing about her has seemed suspicious. Not at all.
How the fuck did I miss this?
I fumble with my phone, dropping it once, then diving under my desk to retrieve it, then I click on Sawyer’s number. It takes him what feels like for-fucking-ever to answer, and before he can even say hello, I drop my bomb.
“I found her. I know who Scarlett is.”