Chapter Fifty-Four
Ethan
She was gone.
Ethan stood in the empty bedroom, getting ready to scold her for leaving the door open. He’d been about to ask her if she
wanted mystery cheese and crackers or mystery chocolates—he’d brought all three because he wasn’t sure which would make her
happiest, and he desperately wanted to make her happy. Probably because he got the feeling no one had ever tried. But...
She was gone.
He was leery as he inched toward the bathroom, calling, “Maggie? You forgot to lock the door, young lady. I may have to...”
The bathroom door swung open with the slightest nudge. And it was empty.
She was gone.
Then Ethan felt his heart change rhythms. Training kicking in. Years of distrust and practice taking over. Because—
She was gone.
Fear was rising. Swelling. “Maggie!” And then it crested, carrying him out of the room and into the hall, flashlight sweeping
through the dark as a feeling rose up inside of Ethan, a certainty that something was different—something was wrong—as he
looked back at her room one last time. Their room.
And that was when he saw the pale green light that was blinking in the dark.
“Shit.” He raced back to the bed and woke the laptop with the tap of a key. A moment later, he was staring down at his own
face, scowling and skulking in the shadows.
“Shit!” he shouted louder as he raced out the door and down the hall.
His mind filled with a million thoughts and fears. She had to be hating him. She should be hating him. He looked guilty as hell. He felt guilty as hell. And now she was somewhere in that dark mansion all alone.
He couldn’t decide what was scarier—that Maggie was running from him or who she might be running to, so Ethan stopped thinking
and just ran harder, dashing toward Eleanor’s office, shouting, “Maggie!”
A door behind him opened and Rupert’s red face peeked out. “Keep it down out here!”
“Where’s Maggie?”
“Who?” Rupert asked because Rupert was both very dumb and very selfish, but at that moment Ethan was in the mood to break
something, so that was damned convenient.
He lunged and Rupert jerked back, banging against the door. “Where is she?”
“Ethan?” Kitty came into view. “What’s wrong?”
“Have you seen Maggie?”
“No,” Kitty said. “Why?”
“Nothing.” He forced a smile. “I’ll find her.”
“Do you need us to help you—”
But before Kitty could get the words out, Ethan was already gone.
“Maggie!” He was going to wake up the whole house, and he didn’t even care. “Maggie!”
“Can I help you, sir?” James asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Have you seen Maggie?”
“No, sir. Perhaps—”
Ethan wheeled and headed toward the library. It wasn’t that late. Maybe she wanted a book to read. A fireplace poker to bang
him over the head with. Something. He didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was that he find her. Because the little voice
in the back of Ethan’s mind kept whispering that she hadn’t stayed in the room. She hadn’t confronted him, fought with him.
And his Maggie was a fighter.
But the worst part—the part he didn’t even want to think about—was that she’d walked off and left the nanny cam just sitting
there. Which Maggie wouldn’t have done in a million years. Not willingly.
So Ethan threw open the library doors and shouted, “Where’s Maggie?”
“How should we know?” The duke didn’t even look up from the cards in his hand as he sat at a table with his wife and Cece
and Freddy.
“What’s wrong?” Cece asked.
Ethan took in the room: four people at the card table. James entering behind him and Dr. Charles dozing by the fire. Absolutely
no one was concerned, because they didn’t know—didn’t care—that his life was falling apart.
“I can’t find Maggie.” He couldn’t find Maggie, and she was out there. Somewhere.
“What’s the meaning of all this shouting?” Dobson pushed into the library. He was already in his bathrobe with a towel around
his shoulders, looking like a man who had never stayed up past ten thirty in his life.
“Where’s Maggie?” Ethan demanded.
“Upstairs,” Dobson told him. “In her room, I’d presume. Which is exactly where you all should—”
And then Ethan couldn’t take it anymore. He stomped up to Dobson, forcing the older man back a step, reminding him without
words that he was taller, stronger, and meaner than anyone had a right to be. That dangerous people had spent a lot of time
and money turning Ethan into a dangerous man. Starting with his own father. Oh, how his dad had hated it when his middle son
had chosen the only gun-toting profession that was entirely about playing defense, but whatever little voice had led Ethan
to make that decision a decade ago was silent then, drowned out by warning bells and the pounding of Ethan’s own heart.
“Listen to me, Inspector.” Ethan’s voice was dark and low. “I don’t know where Maggie is at the moment, but I’m going to find
her. And you’re either going to help me or get out of my way because I’m getting ready to start breaking things. Lamps. Dishes.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Heads.”
To Dobson’s credit, he didn’t even flinch. “I could arrest you for that, you know?”
“Oh.” Ethan didn’t even try not to smirk. “You’re more than welcome to try.”