Chapter 28
Gracyn
B rooks is still asleep when I stir awake, so I roll over and watch him, syncing my breathing with his. The disarray of his thick hair is a wild mess. His eyelids flutter, and I can only imagine the terror behind them. He’s living his nightmare. It’s only been a couple of hours, but he needed this time to recoup. He’s going to need his energy.
“Thank you,” he whispers, eyes still closed.
“For what?”
Dull hazel eyes peek out under heavy, sleepy lids. It’s hard to watch a strong man crumble. “Coming,” he replies.
As if I had a choice. “I needed to know you both are okay. And as you’re already aware, patience has never been my strong suit.” My hand rests on his cheek as he gives me a subtle nod. Glancing past him at the closed door, I ask, “Ready to go back out?”
He presses his lips in a tight line, inhales deeply, and nods. As we step into the living room, the hushed chatter among the guys dwindles into silence. Not that I’m worried about how I look, but when everyone stares at you, it sparks a twinge of self-consciousness. I run my fingers through my hair and pull it into a ponytail.
“Anything?” Brooks inquires, joining the guys at the kitchen table. I spot Addison, sitting on top of the kitchen island, and she shakes her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. Isn’t there supposed to be a phone call by now asking for a ransom? Something?
My stomach grumbles, a reminder that the few nibbles from breakfast aren’t cutting it. I make my way into the kitchen, snag a piece of cold cheese pizza, and sink my teeth down into it. As I chew, I study the room. There are fewer officers than before. Four large men sit at the table, straining the legs of the chairs. I’m especially afraid for Max’s chair. Addison moved, now hovering over Aiden’s shoulder as they survey a map of the city. Her finger follows a trail. Stone marked the path the kidnapper took, ending with an abrupt stop. Everyone is hoping she’s somewhere in that area, but so far, nothing. Sydney, or Sky , I’m not even sure what to call her, left, and Judith sits on the couch blankly staring out the window.
Doing my best to stay out of the way, I walk over and sit beside Judith. “Anything else I can do?”
She turns to me and pointedly murmurs, “Leave.”
I jerk in surprise. “Excuse me?”
She shakes the venom from her expression. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.” You think? “I meant you don’t have to attend to me. You’re here for Brooks.”
That is not what she meant. But whatever.
I don’t want to make this awkward, so I let it slide. Everyone deals with stress differently, and clearly, Judith’s way involves passive-aggressive jabs. “I’m here to help however I can. So, if you need anything, please ask. I’m great at getting coffee.”
She nods and turns away from me, returning her gaze outside as if I’m already forgotten. Fine by me. When I push off the couch, her hand stops me. I look back at her, and she murmurs, “Coffee sounds great.”
“You got it,” I say, relieved I have something to do. “I’m making a coffee run. Would anyone else like something?”
The guys rattle off their orders, and I can’t help the small smile when Brooks gives me his. His lips quirk up on one side with a knowing expression, but it’s replaced with the heavy shadow of worry hanging over him.
“I’ll go with you,” Addison says, grabbing her bag. “I could use some air.”
We exit out the rear of the building to avoid the media frenzy out front. I glance over at Addison as we walk. She’s been quiet since we left. “How are you doing?” It has to be hard on her, too. Presley is her niece. She’s handling it a lot better than I would be.
She exhales, her cheeks puffing out. “I’m trying to stay strong for Brooks. But inside, I’m fighting some demons.” She wipes away a fallen tear, and my heart aches for her. She stops on the sidewalk and turns to me, biting her lip, struggling to keep her emotions in. “All those horrible scenarios Brooks is imagining? I’ve lived that nightmare. I know what could happen to someone who’s been taken.”
My chest tightens. I hold my breath, afraid whatever I say won’t be right.
“And when Brooks looks at me,” she continues, her voice breaking, “searching for confirmation that his worst fears might be true, I can’t…” She pauses, fisting her hands. “ I won’t give it to him. I have to be strong. For him. And Presley.”
I throw my arms around her in a tight hug. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met,” I whisper, not caring if she’s a hugger or not, or that we’re practically strangers. Right now, she needs someone to hold her up, even if for a second.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, pulling away with a shaky sigh. A bitter laugh slips from her lips. “I didn’t know letting that out would help.” She turns to walk down the sidewalk, and I fall in step beside her.
“I know we just met, but if you ever need a second to let things out, I’m here.”
Her lips curve into an appreciative closed smile, her wall of steel already sliding into place. “When I heard you crashed a wedding to serve my brother annulment papers, I had a feeling I’d like you.”
I let out a short laugh, surprised by her bluntness. “That’s definitely one way to make an impression,” I say as we push through the door of the coffee shop. The crisp chill of the AC hits my face, and I sigh in relief. How am I sweating? I never sweat? I grab a napkin and dab my forehead. This humid heat will be the death of me.
Addison smiles. “You’ll get used to it.”
Standing in line, I bite my inner cheek, wondering if now would be a good time to ask the question gnawing at me since this morning. “Shouldn’t there be a ransom already? It’s been almost twenty-four hours,” I ask, keeping my voice low.
She stares at the menu board. “This is personal. Presley was familiar with the person in that car. Which points to a family member. But we’re all here.” She finally turns toward me. “ Except Jessie . But Presley’s never met her. I still think she’s involved, somehow.”
I want to ask more about Jessie. Why isn’t she involved with Presley? Where does she live? I have so many questions after learning that she’s still alive, but she has to be a hot button for Addison. I’d hate the woman who once tried to kill me.
“Does Jessie live around here?” I ask with a slight hesitation, trying not to push too hard.
She shakes her head again. “Not that we’re aware of. Last we heard, she was working for an interior design firm on the West Coast.”
Her voice falters at the end as her eyes fixate past me with a questioning expression. I glance over my shoulder to see what she’s looking at. Two police officers stand in the doorway, staring at us.
A fragment of memory tugs at the edges of my mind, refusing to take shape.
“C’mon, let’s go find out what’s up,” she says, already striding toward the officers.
I love her take-charge attitude. She’s my kind of person.
“Hey, Evans. Did you guys find her?”
The dark-haired guy with the bushy mustache shakes his head.
“So, what’s going on?” she asks.
Meanwhile, my mind is still trying to piece together the memory. It’s important, I feel it. It’s right there, so I ignore the cops and grab Addison’s arm. “What did you just say earlier? Something about it sparked a memory, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why.”
She stares at me, confused.
“When you said something about Jessie?”
“She’s on the West Coast?”
I shake my head. That’s not it.
“She’s an interior designer.”
“That’s it!” The memory snaps in place, and my heart skips a beat. That’s why that picture of Jessie looked familiar. She’s Lindsey. Just with a different hair color. “We have to go. I know where Jessie is.”
Addison’s eyes widen. “Where?”
“I think I got her a job at the new hotel going up in Vegas,” I say, the words tumbling out.
“You know her?”
I nod. “When I saw Jessie’s picture, she seemed familiar. But she looks different. I’m almost certain it’s her.”
Addison’s expression hardens. She grabs my arm and drags me out of the coffee shop, leaving the drinks behind.
“Wait, we have some questions for Gracyn Carmichael,” an officer shouts from behind us, his voice growing louder as he rushes after us.
Wait. That’s me.
I stop and spin around. “For me? Why?”
“We need to talk to you about Cooper Rossman.”
Addison lets out a frustrated sigh at the interruption. “Why in the hell are you questioning her about Cooper Rossman? She’s never even met the guy.”
But I have.
“We’re following up on a tip.”
Addison sends me a confused glance. She catches my panic and takes a slow, calculated breath, standing taller. “Are you arresting her?”
I gasp, whipping my face toward her. Why would they arrest me?
“No. We just need to talk,” the officer with the bushy mustache replies, turning his attention to me.
Addison scoffs. “Then follow us. We just had a huge development in the kidnapping case of Presley Handley.” She doesn’t give them any other option as she spins on her toes and calls over her shoulder, “Let’s go!”
On the way, I tell Addison everything about running into Lindsey, who I think is Jessie. But after, my thoughts jumble together. Did Jessie search me out? How do the cops know about me and Cooper? Was her boyfriend all a lie? Do they think I beat him up?
The elevator ride up is uncomfortably silent. I clutch my bag close to my hip as I sense the officer’s eyes on me.
As soon as the elevator doors slide open, Addison storms through the hallway and throws open the front door with so much force it bangs against the wall. “She friended Gray!” she barks.
Everyone stops what they’re doing. The guys at the table stand, their expressions a mix of confusion and alarm as they look between Addison, me, and the police officers.
“FBI Agent Roberts,” Aiden says, stepping forward and introducing himself to the officers. “Can I help you?”
Addison doesn’t even pay attention to them. “Don’t worry about them right now. Gray, tell them what you told me.”
Still stunned that I’m being questioned about Cooper, I take a second to catch up. “Right,” I manage, fumbling with my phone, almost dropping it. I had sent Ray a text on the way here to see if he could get me the picture of Lindsey that they used for her badge.
I stare at the image he sent, my stomach flipping. It’s her.
I hold my phone up, showing it to Aiden.
“Fuck,” he snaps.
A bomb of commotion blows up. The guys talk all at once. Orders are barked out while others make phone calls.
Brooks throws out a slew of curse words, pacing again. “Why is she doing this to me? She’s the one who wanted nothing to do with her own child.”
“Gray, tell me about her,” Max asks, walking up to me, his enormous frame towering over me.
I recap our brief encounters at the coffee shop and spotting her at the bar, but how she left before I could talk to her. Aside from that, we’d only talked on the phone once about the job. We hadn’t had a chance to meet up for dinner like we talked about.
“She was in Vegas for a reason. Which was you,” Max states. His piercing gaze locks onto mine, and I feel small.
Like a mouse to an elephant. For my safety, I take a step backward.
“But why? Why come after you?”
Good question. Why me? Did she find out Brooks and I were married?
“Why are they here?” he asks, jerking his chin toward the two officers standing at the door, waiting patiently.
“I’m not sure of that either,” I admit with a wince, afraid I’m derailing the focus on Presley. “They want to talk to me.”
“Aiden,” Max barks, startling me.
Aiden walks over.
“Stay with her while the cops talk to her.”
He looks down at me, confused. “They’re here for you?”
I nod. That’s what I hear .
“Outside, now,” he demands.
I follow him, and he gestures for the officers to follow as we pass them. The hallway outside the door is quiet, and I shrink back when the officers both look at me. Even though I had nothing to do with Cooper getting the shit beat out of him, chills run along my spine, afraid of what they’re going to ask.
“Ms. Carmichael, as we stated earlier, we’re following up on a tip,” the officer states, pulling out a little notebook. “Were you in New York City on May 17 attending a wedding for a Jared Rice?”
I swallow hard. “I was.”
“Did you have an altercation with Mr. Rossman that night?”
Altercation?
“What the hell, Officer Evans?” Aiden jumps in, his tone crackling with irritation as he stands in front of me, shielding me. “Does Gray need an attorney?”
The young cop looks like he’s about to say something, but Evans lifts his hand to silence him. “It’s procedure. Ms. Carmichael is not under arrest.”
“It’s all right,” I say, stepping out from behind him. If he wasn’t here, I’m not sure I could be so confident. “I wouldn’t say it was an altercation. He roofied my drink. Before I could pass out, Brooks was there to save me.”
“And you’re certain it was Mr. Rossman who put a drug in your drink?”
Yes . I open my mouth to say Brooks has it on tape but then snap it shut. I have an alibi the night of his beating in a different state , but I’m not sure Brooks does. And if I admit we have proof, they’ll wonder why I didn’t go to the cops. “Not a hundred percent. He was aggressively trying to get me to leave the party and got mad when I didn’t. That’s when Brooks stepped in. We both assumed it was him.”
Officer Evans’s brow furrows, his pen hovering over the small notepad in his hand. “Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“Because I wasn’t sure. There wasn’t any proof.”
He jots down a couple of notes. I steal a glance at Aiden, who’s watching them both like a hawk, his posture protective and tense.
“Is that all, Officers?” Aiden asks, hurrying them along.
“One more question,” Evans says, flipping a page in his notebook. “Where were you on the night of May 24?”
“Um…” I have the answer, but the weight of their stares flusters me, and I stumble over my words. “I was at my graduation. At UNLV.”
“Thanks for your cooperation,” the younger officer nods and says.
Officer Evans hands me his card. “If you can think of anything else that happened the night of the wedding, please contact me.”
That won’t be happening. My memory is slim pickings as it is. I keep my lips pressed together and nod. Aiden doesn’t move, so I follow his lead as we watch the officers step onto the elevator.
Once the doors close and they’re out of earshot, Aiden twists toward me. “Does Brooks need to call his lawyer?”
I shake my head.
At least I don’t think so.