Chapter Sixteen — Something Doesn’t Add Up #2
“Carriage house?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Ronan shrugged.
“Never needed it.”
Vance looked toward the closed blinds.
“Until now.”
Nobody answered. One technician carried the evidence bag outside. The other remained photographing the porch. Vance lowered her voice.
“Your parents’ footage may show whoever approached.”
Ronan nodded.
“They’re out?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll need access.”
“I can call Dad.”
“Do that.”
Ronan pulled out his phone. Elliot remained near the kitchen. Too still. Ronan watched him while Thomas answered.
“Hey.”
“Everything okay?”
“No.”
His father’s tone changed immediately.
“What happened?”
“Police are here.”
Pause.
“What?”
“Someone left something on our porch. They need camera footage.”
“I’m turning around.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I’m already turning around.”
Of course.
“Vance needs login access.”
Thomas gave him the credentials. Ronan wrote them down.
By the time he ended the call, Vance already had a laptop open on the kitchen island.
Ten minutes later, they found the figure.
Timestamp: 4:57 P.M. Forty-six minutes before Elliot and Ronan came downstairs after the video message.
A person entered the property from the western tree line.
Not the gate. Tall. Dark jacket. Hood. Gloves.
Face obscured. Ronan’s stomach tightened.
“They knew about the cameras,” Vance said.
The figure stayed close to the trees. Outside the main camera angles.
Only one camera caught them clearly enough to show movement.
No face. No vehicle. They disappeared behind the carriage house.
Then reappeared ninety-three seconds later.
No box in hand anymore. Elliot stood beside Ronan.
Silent. Vance rewound. Played again. Ronan watched the figure’s gait.
Something bothered him. He leaned closer.
“What?”
Vance paused. Ronan stared at the screen.
“I don’t know.”
“What did you notice?”
“Nothing.”
Elliot looked at him. Ronan almost laughed. The word had infected everyone.
“Play it again.”
Vance did. The figure moved from tree to tree. Fast. Controlled. Not running. Ronan frowned.
“Height?”
Vance looked toward him.
“Estimate?”
“Six feet. Maybe six-one.”
Ronan was six-three. Elliot five-eleven. Neither exact. Good. Ronan hated that he thought it. The figure disappeared. Vance paused.
“Recognize the movement?”
“No.”
Ronan looked at Elliot. He was staring at the screen. Too intently.
“What?”
Elliot blinked.
“Nothing.”
Ronan’s stomach tightened. Again. Vance copied the footage. Then the technicians left. She remained.
“Someone entered your property specifically to leave that box.”
Ronan folded his arms.
“We gathered.”
“They approached from a blind area, avoided the primary cameras, and knew enough about Elliot to use an item tied to him.”
Elliot’s face remained neutral. Vance looked at him.
“This person either knows you personally or has spent significant time learning about you.”
Ronan felt something cold settle in his stomach.
“Could be Dylan?” Elliot looked at him sharply.
Vance answered. “Possible.” “Why would Dylan stalk himself?” “To manipulate you.” Elliot’s expression tightened.
Ronan almost smiled. Of course he hated that theory.
“Or Claire,” Vance continued. Elliot’s face changed immediately.
“No.” Vance noticed. “Why not?” “Because she wouldn’t.
” “That isn’t evidence.” “She’s my best friend.
” “So?” Elliot’s jaw tightened. Ronan touched his arm.
“Easy.” Elliot looked at him. That one touch did something.
Enough to soften the anger. Vance watched.
Again. Ronan was getting tired of being observed.
“Anyone else?” he asked. Vance closed the laptop.
“Plenty.” “Helpful.” “I’m not going to invent suspects to make you feel better.
” “Could’ve fooled me.” Her eyes moved toward him.
Ronan smiled without humor. She ignored it.
“We’re putting a patrol through the area tonight.
” Elliot immediately said, “No.” Both turned.
Vance frowned. “Why?” “I don’t want a police car sitting outside.
” “Why?” “Because whoever’s doing this wants attention.
” “That’s speculation.” “Still true.” Vance looked at Ronan.
He hated being asked silently to choose.
“I want the patrol.” Elliot’s jaw tightened.
Vance nodded. “Good.” Elliot looked away. Ronan sighed.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t need to.”
Vance almost smiled. Then her phone rang. She stepped outside to answer. Ronan looked at Elliot.
“You seriously don’t want police here?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone is watching, they’ll disappear.”
“That’s the point.”
“No.”
Ronan frowned.
“What?”
Elliot turned toward the windows.
“If they disappear, we learn nothing.”
Ronan stared.
“You want them to come back.”
Elliot looked over.
“Yes.”
The answer came so calmly that Ronan felt cold.
“To catch them?”
“Yes.”
“By us?”
“If necessary.”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
Elliot laughed softly.
“There you are.”
“What?”
“The controlling one.”
Ronan stared. Elliot smiled. Not sweet. Not public. The other one.
“You really do like telling me what to do.”
“When your plans are insane, yes.”
“What if I’m right?”
“You can be right from inside a locked house with police outside.”
“That’s boring.”
Ronan stared. Then laughed. He couldn’t help it. Elliot smiled. For one brief second, the tension broke. Then Vance returned. Her expression had changed. Ronan noticed immediately.
“What?”
“Dylan Price is missing.” The room went silent.
Elliot didn’t move. Ronan’s heartbeat slammed once.
“What?” “His attorney contacted us ten minutes ago.” “When was he last seen?” “Leaving his apartment at 2:11 P.M.” Ronan looked at the clock.
6:07. Four hours. Not long. Still. “Phone?” “Off.” “Car?” “Apartment.” Ronan swore.
Elliot remained completely still. Too still.
Vance looked at him. “When did you last speak to Dylan?” “Thursday.” Ronan answered.
“Today.” Both looked. “What?” Elliot said.
Ronan pulled out his phone. The envelope photos.
Messages. “Obviously.” Vance frowned. “I mean voice contact.” “Thursday.” Elliot said, “Me too.” Vance’s gaze shifted.
“You spoke to him Thursday?” “At our house.” “I know.” Ronan looked toward the door.
Dylan. Missing. The white envelope. Wrong brother.
The photograph. Someone had been watching him.
Now he was gone. Ronan’s stomach twisted.
“I’m going to his apartment.” “No,” Vance said.
“Yes.” “No.” “I’m not asking.” She stepped between him and the door.
“Then I’m telling you.” Ronan’s temper flashed. “Move.” “Ronan.” “Move.”
Elliot grabbed his wrist. Ronan turned.
“Don’t.”
“Let go.”
“No.”
Ronan stared. Elliot’s fingers tightened.
“Think.”
“I am thinking.”
“No, you’re panicking.”
“Dylan is missing.”
“I know.”
“You hate him.”
Elliot’s expression hardened.
“That doesn’t mean I want him dead.”
Ronan went still. Dead. Nobody had said dead. Vance heard it too. Her eyes sharpened. Elliot realized. His face changed.
“I mean missing.”
Too late. Ronan looked at him. Something cold moved through his chest.
“Why did you say dead?”
Elliot stared.
“Because Mason and Lucas are dead.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Ronan.”
“Why?”
“I misspoke.”
Vance watched. Ronan hated her watching. He hated himself watching more. Elliot pulled his hand away.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Looking at me like that.”
Ronan didn’t answer. Elliot laughed softly. Bitter.
“Great.”
He stepped back. Vance’s phone rang again. She answered. Listened. Her face hardened.
“Where?”
Ronan’s chest tightened. Vance looked at both of them. Then turned away slightly.
“How long ago?”
Pause.
“Secure it. I’m coming.”
She ended the call. Ronan knew before asking.
“What?”
Vance looked at him.
“They found Dylan’s phone.”
His stomach dropped.
“Where?”
“Saint Augustine’s Park.”
Elliot closed his eyes. Ronan stared at him. The park again. Mason. Lucas’s jacket. Now Dylan’s phone. Three names. One location. Something didn’t add up. No. That wasn’t true anymore. Too many things were adding up. They were simply adding up to the wrong fucking answer.