THIRTY-EIGHT
RELAYING THE WHOLE story to her mother took time. There were questions, of course, some she was more confident answering than others. How could she have got herself into such a position? Who was this Struan? Was he a good man? Was he anything like his brother? If they were together, why wasn’t he there?
He would be, she said only to herself, if he could, he would.
Roxie was a great help. She diverted many awkward lines of questioning and managed to keep her mother’s mood high.
The pie was as she remembered, just as every detail in the house was imprinted on her memory. The feeling she got there was like nowhere else. The acceptance and security of her mother’s home was something she’d taken for granted. Even with the horde outside and the Men in Black patrolling the yard, it still felt like home.
“Shall we go out for dinner?” Roxie asked. “My treat, you can invite your family and your friends. Anyone you want. Where do people eat in this town?”
“I don’t know if going out is a good idea.”
Her mother was already on her feet cleaning up. “Everyone would love to see you.”
“I don’t want us followed around. These people can be intrusive, Mom, they don’t hear no.”
“Yes, I found that out when they wouldn’t stop hammering on the door all day yesterday. I couldn’t tell the difference between the pounding in my head and that on the door. I honestly thought I’d lose my mind until your wonderful friend showed up.” She stopped to land a smile on Roxie. “Mr. Stone.”
As always, the woman wasn’t shy. “Unfortunately, my friend is spoken for,” Roxie said, “if only every woman could have a piece of Ryder Stone.”
At that, the back door opened and a tall, well-built guy came inside. Much like the others, but not the same. There was something different about him, more authority in his air, yet he carried easy confidence too.
“Speak of the devil,” Roxie said and leaped up to rush around. “Any baby yet?”
“No baby yet,” the bass of his voice rumbled.
“Why didn’t you come to the chopper?”
He let Roxie hug him, but quickly took her shoulders to pry their bodies apart.
“One minute,” he said, and abruptly took Roxie from the room, rushing her back down the hallway toward the front door.
“That’s him, that’s Ryder Stone,” her mother said. “Shame he’s taken.”
The twist of her mother’s wry smile rung a laugh in her chest. “I’m spoken for.”
“So this boy, this Struan, you love him?”
She nodded. “It’s so difficult, Mom, I don’t know how we’re going to do this. The whole fake out thing, I didn’t think it through, or I sort of did, but he didn’t. I couldn’t exactly tell him I don’t want to do this because it means I’ll never be yours.” Except she kind of had said that, and he’d repeated it, proving he’d listened. “What am I supposed to do, Mom? How do we get through this?”
Her mother came over. “Oh, sweetheart…”
She pulled her to her feet, and the two embraced for a brief second. The consolation was short-lived. Roxie appeared in the doorway, Stone just behind her.
“There’s been a development,” Roxie said, still as bold as ever, though slightly more subdued than she’d come to expect.
“A development? What does that mean?”
The grave look on Stone’s face chilled her.
“He’s missing.”
“He’s missing? He, who? Zairn?”
“No, actually, though he’s been trying to call. I really should find my phone.”
“Roxie!” She got her friend’s attention back. “Who’s he?”
“Not just he…” Her friend’s shoulders squirmed just a little. “They. They’re missing.”
She shook her head. “Still don’t get it.”
“The Lowes. Roman and Struan. No one knows where they are.”
Her arm fell from her mother. “Where’s my purse?”
Stone’s upper body twisted away, and he retrieved something from someone behind him. Her purse. He held it out over Roxie’s shoulder, and she rushed to grab it, fishing her phone from inside.
The first thing she did was dial his number: voicemail.
“That means he’s on the phone,” she said, letting it play to the room. “He’s fine if he’s on the phone.”
“Or it’s off,” Stone said.
Off? Why would his phone be off? Struan wasn’t remotely the type to forget to charge it, not when Roman might need him any minute, but Roman…
Mieux was the friend who kept on giving. Her colleague filled her phone with numbers she might need, and right then she scrolled to M.
If Struan couldn’t talk to her, Magnus was Roman’s keeper. He’d know the star’s exact location.
The phone rang.
It rang and rang until a barked reply. “You!”
“Me?” she asked, reading his accusation.
“This is because of you. You’ve done this. My boys are out there somewhere, probably killing each other right now because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself!”
“I’m worried too,” she said, turning her back to the others. It was easier to absorb the allegation without the others reading her shame. “Magnus, tell me what happened. If we’re going to find them, we have to work together.
He exhaled a grumble. “I don’t know what happened. I went to get Roman from his room. We were supposed to be heading to the airport, and he wasn’t there.”
“Struan spent the night at mine.”
“We know. After the first half dozen attempts to phone him failed, I sent people over there. His car’s still on the street. Boy was smart enough to know there’s a tracker in it. There’s no one there. We sent people in to look. Your place is empty.”
That wasn’t the time to fixate on how anyone had got into her house without a key, or that he hadn’t bothered to ask permission when she was reachable on the phone.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I know where you are. You’re all over the internet. Wishbone. I know they haven’t showed up there because we have live feed.”
“Where are they?” she asked and turned to Roxie. “Where are the twins?”
“I’m on it,” her friend said, taking a device from Stone, then bypassing the man to go into the hall.
“Roxie will help.”
“Like she’s helped this whole mess?” Magnus asked. “These boys were fine until you came into their life. Now look what you’ve done.”
“I didn’t do anything. I didn’t know they were going to do anything. How could I know they were going to disappear? When was the last time you saw Roman?”
“Last night, about two, before he went to bed. You stayed in Seattle last night.”
She didn’t want to ask how he knew that. Either the press was slyer than she gave them credit for and actually did understand the word discretion, or Magnus had someone tailing her. A mole was unlikely given only Struan, Tripp, Roxie, and Zairn had known their course. And her mother, but even Magnus wouldn’t cross that line.
“Have you talked to him today?” Magnus asked her.
“No, we talked last night. I texted him from breakfast in Seattle, but I figured he was busy with the UO decamp.”
She’d texted him after the chopper landed too, yet her phone was silent. No replies.
“I’ve tried to call, his phone is dead. Both of them are.”
“What does that mean?” she asked. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
“It means this has been a conscious decision,” Stone answered. Magnus had a loud voice, guess her call was kind of public. “Wherever they are, they’re together. And they don’t want to be interrupted.”
“There’s no mistaking that,” Magnus said. “It would be a hell of a coincidence otherwise, and I don’t believe in those.”
“They’re together, is that good?”
“If they don’t kill each other, we may get a resolution,” Magnus said. “Might not be one you like.”
She trusted Struan though there was always a chance of that. It may not be one she liked, or it could be one that solved their problems. Was there a chance of a miracle?
“We have to trust them.”
Though killing each other was a possibility, all her money went on Struan being the one to make it out alive. Not just because she had more confidence in him, but because he had the better physique and sharper mind. If something dramatic did happen, would he reach out… or cut all ties to protect her?
“And what do we do in the meantime?” Magnus asked. “How do I spin this? The press hasn’t caught wind of it yet. It won’t take them long. Rumors quickly turn to leads and everyone wants the scoop.”
“All we can do is wait.”
“And in the meantime, what happens to Roman’s career? You were supposed to be ensuring it wasn’t left in tatters. If this drags on, there’ll be nothing left. Filming is due to start in less than forty-eight hours. If he’s not in Vancouver, and on that set, on time, you can kiss your happy ending goodbye.”
Happy Ending. Wasn’t that laughable? Whatever her man was doing, wherever he was, she trusted him, but since they’d known each other, they’d hardly been out of touch. How long could she go without hearing his voice? Without knowing he was okay? Accidents could happen anytime. Could her goodbye in that apartment be the last goodbye they ever shared?