36. Ethan
Cassidy nurses a glass of wine, staring into its ruby depths like it’s an oracle that will reveal the answer to everything. I wish it could. Cassidy’s not the only one who’s been asking questions no one wants to answer.
She’s just spent the past half an hour getting me up to speed on her mother’s disappearance, this Rebecca Monroe she was convinced eloped with me.
Any other person hearing her story would have told her to go see a therapist…but I get it. I was clutching at straws too when Becks first disappeared. Even after all these months, I’m still convinced there’s some shred of evidence somewhere I’m missing, a puzzle piece that will finally reveal the full picture of what happened the night she left me.
“When was the last time you spoke to the detective handling your mother’s case?”
She takes a sip, sighs. “Tuesday. He wasn’t prioritizing the lead I gave him?—”
“Me,” I cut in dryly.
There’s the hint of an apology in her eyes when she glances up at me from her glass. “You,” she concedes. “I had to take matters into my own hands.”
I rub my thumb down the side of my wineglass. It’s late afternoon—I’d planned to be on the road already, but there’s no way we could just put a pin in this.
“Wait a minute…” I grab her hand, forcing her to look at me. “Myles didn’t send you, did he?”
She gives me a rueful smile. “I don’t even know who that is.”
I pull my hand away, wrapping my fingers over my mouth as I lean back on the kitchen stool. The remnants of the open house’s snack platters are nearby. There wasn’t much left, but we’re making a point of emptying them as we hash out everything.
“And I just…” I can’t bear to look at her. “I treated you like…”
She laughs softly. “That’s what’s worrying you?”
“Why the hell did you let me?”
Cassidy takes another sip, her lips crooking into a warmer smile. “I was undercover, remember?”
“Fuck,” I scoff, shaking my head as I empty the last of my wine. “That’s commitment.”
“What I don’t get is where she got your number from.”
I shrug. “Remington’s have been in the gem business for three generations. We were even listed online and in the phonebook back when my father was still alive. Did she try to sell jewelry before?”
“Yup. Barely had anything left when she disappeared.” She purses her lips. “She came from old money. I guess maybe her parents had a contact or two. Although I doubt she would have called them. They had a huge falling out when she eloped with my dad.”
“What was her maiden name?”
“Calloway.” She sips at her wine, frowning. “Ring a bell?”
“If it’s the Calloways I’m thinking of, then yeah. One of my father’s clients. Filthy rich. More interested in buying stones than selling.”
We stare at each other, eyes searching, but Cassidy shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. There’s no way Detective Lewis will look into it. After his call with your office, he’s convinced this is all a dead end.”
“His call with my office?”
She drains the last of her wine before answering. “Yeah. They didn’t tell you?”
I frown at her. “No one spoke to me.”
Cassidy leans back, studying me with a bemused smile. “You’re joking, right? Lewis said he spoke to your office. That’s how he confirmed you never met with my mom.” The longer she speaks, the more agitated she looks.
I hold up a hand. “He probably spoke to my partner. He’s still doing the odd deal or two. Keeps me updated. He knows I haven’t had any appointments for close to a year.”
“Oh.” Her body relaxes, but it’s not relief, it’s despondency.
I know that feeling all too well. Every time you think you’ve found a sliver of hope, it turns out to be just another dead end.
It’s so devastating, you wish you didn’t know what hope felt like anymore.
She looks out the window, to the dwindling light. “I should be going.”
“You’re not leaving.”
She gives me a quizzical look. “Because I’ve been drinking?” She waves away my concern, standing with a faint groan. “I’ll be fine. I’m not even tipsy.”
I grab her wrist. “You’re coming with me.”
She pulls at her arm, but the day’s obviously run her ragged because I hold on to her with ease. “I know you’re used to getting your way, but?—”
“I can help you.”
That gets her to stop. She blinks at me. “What are you talking about?”
I draw her closer to me until she’s snuggled between my thighs. Sliding my hands up the small of her back, I peer into her eyes. “Myles is coming to see me when I’m back in the city. If anyone can find your mother, it’s him.”
She looks away, her mouth pursing. “Not to be rude, but I assume you asked him to find Becks, and, well…”
Bitter anger coils in my stomach, but I manage a lighthearted, “Touché.”
She drums her fingers on my shoulder, staring off for a few seconds before looking back. “You really think he can help?”
“What have you got to lose?”
Cassidy chews on her lip until I gently grab her chin and pull it out from her teeth.
“Nothing.” She gives me a firm nod. “Okay, fine. Let’s see what magic tricks this friend of yours has up his sleeve.”
Smiling, I draw her flush against me, smoothing a hand down her hair. “That’s my good girl.”
She squirms against me, giggling. “Fuck you.”
I close my eyes and inhale the scent of her.
When she confronted me in the library, my mind shut down at the thought that she would walk out and leave me there…just like Becks had. Bewildered, hurt, desperate for answers.
I’ve been given a reprieve, and fuck me, it feels like divine intervention.