Chapter 45
Hey, have you heard from Grace?
Message from Mr. Claymore to Garrett
Ethan
I stared at the silver ring on my little finger, twisting it nervously as I tried to steady my thoughts.
They had begun to play out a horror film in my mind over the last three hours, one in which Grace met with one terrible fate after another.
There was still no sign of her. Her parents had rung old friends, former classmates, and every relative they could think of.
No one knew where she was. Meanwhile, I had driven to every place in London where Grace might have been.
I had even gone to Amy’s grave in the hope of finding her there.
But it was like she’d vanished off the face of the earth.
I wanted to scream and lash out at something, and I felt sick with worry, which was why I ignored the cup of tea Kate set down on the counter beside me.
“I’ve just called the hospitals again,” Henry said as he came back into the living room.
We—Kate, Rose, my brother, and I—had gathered in his penthouse. Although it was nearly midnight, none of us could even think about sleeping. “No hospital has admitted a woman matching Grace’s description.”
“Shit,” Rose murmured, and I agreed.
We had reached a critical point in our search, one at which we would have preferred to find Grace injured in a hospital rather than have no idea where she was.
And even though none of us dared voice the worst-case scenario, the desperation on our faces made it clear that we were all thinking about it.
“Have you heard anything from Grace’s parents?” Henry asked.
“Yes, they’re back home waiting for news.”
After their marathon of phone calls, the Claymores had driven to the police station to report Grace as missing.
All the relevant information and personal details had been recorded, and the officers had promised to look into the matter.
At the same time, however, they’d made it clear that Grace’s disappearance was considered low risk.
She was an adult, mentally and physically healthy, with no issues involving alcohol, drugs, or a criminal record.
Which meant that while they would keep an eye out for her, no serious investigation would be launched just yet.
More time needed to pass first. Time during which unspeakable things could happen.
“I’ll call the station,” Henry said, already pulling out his phone. “Perhaps I can put some pressure on them and get the investigators moving.”
I gave him a grateful, if somewhat weak, smile. He patted my shoulder encouragingly as he headed to the bedroom to make the call in peace.
“I’ll take another drive around,” I announced, pushing myself off from the kitchen counter I’d been leaning on. It probably wouldn’t achieve anything, but I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit around idly waiting for news while Grace might be out there fearing for her life.
“Wait, I’ll come with you!” Rose called, hurrying after me.
Kate stayed behind with Henry to monitor the situation from the hotel.
Rose and I drove in silence to the same places I’d already checked, scanning in mute desperation for Grace or anything that might give us a clue as to where she was.
Every time I spotted a woman with long blond hair, I felt a flicker of hope, but it quickly died each time.
I didn’t know how much longer I could stand this.
I was fairly sure that if Rose weren’t beside me, I would have already pulled over to the side of the road and cried.
My throat felt unbearably tight, and I could taste the salt of unshed tears.
“You’re really worried about her,” Rose said, casting furtive glances at me from the passenger seat. It was the first time she’d spoken since we’d left The Darlington.
I swallowed. “And you aren’t?”
“No, of course I am. I just didn’t think . . .” She pressed her lips together, leaving the sentence unfinished. Still, I knew what she had wanted to say.
“You just didn’t think she meant this much to me?” I pressed.
She gave a curt nod, staring out at the road. The city was sleeping, and all that lay before us was a darkness broken only by the glow of streetlights and the illuminated signs of a few shops.
“I’m in love with Grace.” The words became more true every time I thought or said them.
“She means a lot to me, which is why I sent you that message. All I want is for Grace to be happy, and I know that can’t truly happen if our relationship drives a wedge between you two.
I get that you don’t like my dad. I don’t like him either, but I’m not him. ”
Rose sighed. “I already knew that before you sent your message.”
“Then why are you making Grace’s life difficult because of me?”
She was silent for so long that I thought she wouldn’t answer. And she didn’t, not really.
“There are things about me you don’t know, and they make it hard for me to accept your relationship.”
That sounded ominous. “What things?”
Before Rose could reply, my phone buzzed with a new message. I pulled the car over to read it. It was Mr. Claymore. But it wasn’t the reassurance I’d been hoping for.
Mr. C:
We found these in Grace’s room. Do you know anything about them?
Several photos followed, showing Grace in everyday situations—taken from a distance, as though someone had been spying on her. There were messages on the back of two photos: threats warning Grace to accept her sister’s accident and stop digging for answers. My stomach lurched.
Fuck, Grace. Why didn’t you tell me about this?
“What’s wrong?” Rose asked.
Without a word, I handed her my phone. Cold sweat ran down my back, and in that moment, it was as if a switch had been flicked in my head.
I could suddenly see the situation so clearly.
How could I not have considered that Grace’s disappearance might have something to do with our investigation, especially after Claude had caught us red-handed in his study yesterday?
Probably because deep down, I hadn’t thought him capable of it.
He was still James’s dad, after all. Besides, Amy’s death had been an accident.
But there was a world of difference between an accident and a kidnapping—or possibly something even worse.
Apparently, I had underestimated Claude.