Chapter 51 #2
“Alistair Eddington kidnapped you,” Ethan answered my unspoken question. Rage flashed over his face, while I probably looked hopelessly confused. What did Mr. Eddington have to do with all this? He hadn’t even been on our list of suspects.
“As soon as we realised you were missing, we pulled out all the stops to find you. That’s when your parents discovered those threatening letters in your room,” Ethan explained.
He didn’t mention how disappointed he was that I hadn’t told him about them, but I could hear it in his tone.
“I immediately went to confront Claude, because I was sure he was behind it. But he didn’t know anything, and he had an alibi.
So I went to see my parents to convince my dad to tell me whom he’d deleted the CCTV footage for.
But as it turned out, he wasn’t responsible for the deleted videos at all—it was my mum. ”
I gasped. “Seriously?”
Ethan nodded regretfully. “Yes. Alistair asked her to do it. In return, he promised to publicly support my dad. Alistair wanted to cover up the whole thing so it wouldn’t harm his election campaign. But he wasn’t the one who ran over Amy. It was Charles. He was drunk when it happened.”
I was glad my dad still had his arm around me to keep me upright, or my legs probably would have given way at his revelation.
Charles Eddington had killed Amy. No wonder he had acted so distant towards me at Mrs. Asterdam’s birthday party.
And his father had protected him. I couldn’t help but think back to my encounters with Mr. Eddington over the past few weeks.
When I’d seen him in Mr. Darlington’s study, I’d been surprised that he knew my name.
But of course he remembered the sister of the woman his son had killed.
And in the corridor of The Darlington, when Mr. Eddington had caught me on the phone with Greta .
. . It hadn’t struck me at the time, but in hindsight, it was clearly no coincidence that the second letter had appeared shortly afterwards.
And he’d also been there when Mr. Asterdam had caught us breaking into his study.
“Holy shit,” I swore as the full weight of it hit me.
“You can say that again,” Ethan said.
“We were wrong.”
“We really were.”
I was still trying to process what I’d just learned when a police officer came over to ask me questions about my abduction.
I answered them as best I could, even though I still couldn’t recall much.
Someone must have intercepted me on my way home, knocked me out with chloroform or something similar, and dragged me here.
After I’d told the officer everything I knew, we were allowed to leave.
My parents and I would have to return to the police station in a few days to give our statement for the charges against Mr. Eddington and Charles, but until then, I was allowed to rest. I thanked the officers, then let my parents steer me over to their car.
“Come on, we’ll take you home,” my dad said, still supporting me, and my mum kept touching my arms and shoulders, as if to make sure I was really there. I found it a little embarrassing, but I also liked how normal and natural it felt again.
I turned to look for Ethan. He was still talking to a police officer while the others packed up their things and patrol cars left the property one by one. “Can Ethan come with us?”
My mum smiled. “Of course, sweetheart. You’re together, aren’t you?”
It was no surprise that they’d figured us out. The glances Ethan had been giving me from afar spoke volumes. As did the fact that he’d been searching for me ceaselessly for hours.
“Yes,” I replied.
“He seems like a decent young man,” my dad said, then added thoughtfully, “After everything you told us about him over the past year, I’d pictured him a bit differently. But he was really worried about you, just like we were.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”
“It doesn’t matter,” my mum said, stroking my back again with tears in her eyes. “All that matters is that you’re safe and well.”
We waited for Ethan by the cars. When I asked him if he wanted to come with us, he agreed instantly, and I let my parents know that I would ride with him because I would be more comfortable with the Bentley’s heated seats.
In reality, I just wanted a quiet moment with him before facing Jason’s questions at home.
My parents got into the Toyota and drove off. Ethan started the engine too but didn’t follow them straightaway. He switched on the heating, then turned to me. His gaze searched mine. “Everything OK?”
I nodded. “Yes, it’s fine. I’m glad it’s over.”
“Me too.” He reached for my hand and drew it to his lips, lovingly kissing my bandaged knuckles. “But just so you know, I’m so mad at you for not telling me about those letters.”
I ducked my head. “I’m sorry. I thought—”
“Not now,” he interrupted. “We’ll fight about that some other time, OK?”
I smiled. “OK.”
A hint of a smile played over Ethan’s lips too, then he leant across the centre console and kissed me.
When he pulled back and looked at me, I saw only the deepest affection in his blue eyes.
Perhaps even love. I certainly felt a lot of love for this incredible man—not just falling into it, like we’d said before, but fully in it.
But neither of us spoke those three magical words.
Apparently, we both wanted to save them for a less traumatic occasion.
“Come on, Dreamgirl,” Ethan said instead. “I’m taking you home.”