Chapter 23 Anthony
Anthony
“Yeah?” My voice comes out rough with sleep.
“Morning, sunshine. Hope I didn’t wake you from your beauty rest.” Dillian’s tone is light, but there’s an edge to it that has me sitting up straight.
“What’s up?” I rub a hand over my face, trying to clear the fog from my brain.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “We need to talk about your friend Eli.”
My stomach tightens. “Please don’t use that word. Sarcastic or not.” I say. “What about him?”
“Remember that escort from the quarterly meeting? The one you pointed out to me a few months back when we started tracking his movements?”
I do remember. Tall, blonde, looked expensive.
Eli had his hand on the small of her back as they walked into the hotel bar.
I was there for a GameStream executive meeting, one of the rare ones I actually attend as the silent owner, and he didn’t know who I was.
Just another suit in a room full of suits.
“Yeah, what about her?”
“Her name is Amanda Finley. And she’s missing.”
The last traces of sleep evaporate from my mind. “What do you mean, missing?”
“Family filed a report three days ago. She didn’t come home, didn’t call, nothing. Her roommate said she went out for a job and never came back, that was months ago.”
I stand up, suddenly unable to sit still. “And you think Eli had something to do with it?”
“I’m not saying that. Not exactly.” Dillian sighs, and I can picture him at his desk, phone pressed to his ear, making sure no one else at the station can hear him.
“But there’s a witness who saw a woman matching her description talking to a man on a street corner the night she disappeared.
Said the guy grabbed her by the arm and practically dragged her into a car.
Witness couldn’t get a good look at the man or the vehicle. ”
“Fuck.” I pace to the window, looking out at the bay. The water is calm today, deceptively peaceful. “Do you have any leads?”
“That’s the thing. Since you asked me to look into everyone connected to Eli, I’ve had one of our guys keeping tabs on him when possible. Not officially, of course. Just as a favor to me.”
“And?”
“And your boy is paranoid as hell. He knows he’s being watched.”
Something cold settles in my chest. “How can you tell?”
“The way he moves. He’s careful. Too careful. He parks that red BMW of his in this row of garages off Route 1. The garages are owned by shell companies. It took some digging to figure that out. He goes in, waits a while, then comes out and gets into a rented sedan. Different one each time.”
“He’s switching cars to throw off tails,” I mutter, more to myself than to Dillian.
“Exactly. And he’s good at it. My guy lost him three times in the last month alone.”
I’d been so focused on where he was going that I hadn’t paid enough attention to how he was getting there. Amateur mistake.
“What about the other night? When he left town?” I ask, thinking of Lila at the club, in my arms, her lips on mine while her husband was supposedly away on business.
“That’s another thing. He did the car switch, then drove to Baltimore. Checked into a hotel under a fake name, but my guy recognized him. Then Eli spotted him in the lobby and lost him. Stared right at him, smiled, and walked out. My guy followed, but Eli had vanished. Just... gone.”
“Shit.” I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends in frustration. “So we have no idea where he went after that?”
“None. And here’s the kicker—he hasn’t used his credit cards, his phone is off, and his car is still in that garage. It’s like he’s deliberately dropped off the grid.”
My mind races, connecting dots I don’t want to connect. An escort missing. Eli going dark. The timing of it all.
“You think he did something to her? To Amanda?”
Dillian is quiet for a moment. “I think it’s a hell of a coincidence that a woman he’s been seen with goes missing right around the time he decides to play ghost. But I don’t have anything concrete yet.
Just... watch your girl, Tony. If Eli’s involved in something bad and he thinks someone’s closing in on him, he might get desperate. And desperate men do desperate things.”
I glance at my phone, pulling up the security app to check on Lila’s house. The feeds are clear, no movement. According to her phone’s GPS, she’s still at Mia's house. Safe, for now.
“I’m on it,” I tell Dillian. “What about Amanda? What are you doing to find her?”
“Everything I can without raising flags. It’s tricky.
Officially, she’s just another missing persons case.
But prostitution complicates things—some of the guys aren’t exactly rushing to find a hooker, you know?
But I’ve got a few people I trust looking into it.
Checking hotel records, traffic cams, that sort of thing. ”
“Let me know if you find anything. And Dillian... thanks. I know you’re sticking your neck out here.”
He snorts. “Yeah, well, you’d do the same for me. Have done, actually. Multiple times. Besides, if this guy is hurting women, I want him off the streets. Badge or no badge.”
After we hang up, I throw a pair of sweatpants on and head to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee to go with my breakfast, my mind churning.
I need to be smart about this. If Eli knows he’s being watched, he’ll be more careful than ever.
And if he’s somehow involved in Amanda’s disappearance, he’s more dangerous than I thought.
I pull out my laptop and log into GameStream’s secure server.
As the owner, I have access to everything, including the personal information of our top streamers.
Eli’s profile comes up, showing his streaming schedule, subscriber count, and payment history.
Nothing unusual there. But when I dig deeper, looking at his login locations over the past few months, I notice something odd.
There are gaps, periods where he doesn’t stream at all, doesn’t even log in to check his account.
And these gaps line up perfectly with his “business trips.”
What kind of streamer doesn’t stream for days at a time? Doesn’t check his metrics, his subscriber count, his revenue? Unless streaming isn’t his real business at all, but a cover for something else.
I cross-reference the dates of his absences with news reports, police blotters, missing persons cases. Nothing jumps out immediately, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing there. I just need to dig deeper.
My phone pings with a notification from the security app.
Movement at Lila’s house. I switch screens quickly, heart rate spiking until I see it’s just Lila herself, coming home from Mia’s and she's alone.
She moves through the house with purpose, heading straight to the bedroom she shared with Eli.
I watch as she pulls a suitcase from the closet and begins filling it with clothes.
Is she leaving? Running away? Does she know something about Eli that I don’t?
I grab my phone and am about to call Mia when another notification pops up. A car pulling into Lila’s driveway. Not Eli’s red BMW, but a black sedan I don’t recognize. The driver’s door opens, and Eli steps out.
Fuck. He’s back early.
I watch, helpless, as Eli enters the house.
Lila doesn’t hear him over the sound of drawers opening and closing.
He stands in the doorway of the bedroom, watching her pack, his face eerily calm.
When he finally speaks, I can’t hear what he says, the cameras aren't picking up audio.
But I see Lila freeze, her whole body going rigid before she turns to face him.
I’m already moving, grabbing my keys and helmet, rushing down to the garage where my bike waits. But I know, even as I fire up the engine and tear out onto the street, that I’m too far away. It’ll take me at least fifteen minutes to get to her house, even pushing the bike to its limits.
Fifteen minutes is a long time when you’re alone with a man who might have made a woman disappear.
As I weave through traffic, ignoring speed limits and the angry honks of other drivers, my mind races with possibilities, none of them good. I try to call Lila’s phone, but it goes straight to voicemail. Same with Mia and Valerie. I call Dillian next.
“I need a patrol car at Lila’s address, now,” I say as soon as he picks up. “Eli’s back, and she was packing a suitcase when he walked in. Something’s wrong.”
“Shit. I’ll make it happen. But Tony, stay away. If you show up there masked or unmasked, it’s only going to make things worse.”
“I can’t just do nothing!”
“You can and you will,” Dillian snaps. “Let us handle this. I’ll call in a domestic disturbance check. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes or less.”
I want to argue, but he’s right. Showing up now would only escalate the situation, possibly putting Lila in more danger. “Fine. But I’m staying close. If those officers don’t show up—”
“They will. I promise. Now hang up and let me make the call.”
I pull over to the side of the road, a couple of miles from Lila’s house.
Close enough to get there quickly if needed, but far enough away that Eli won’t spot me.
I pull up the security app again, watching as Lila and Eli face each other in the bedroom.
He’s gesturing at the suitcase, his movements sharp and angry.
She’s backed against the wall, her posture defensive.
But she’s not cowering. There’s a defiance in the way she holds herself that makes pride swell in my chest even as fear claws at my throat.
The minutes crawl by like hours. Where are those fucking cops?
I check the time, only five minutes since I called Dillian, but it feels like an eternity.
On the screen, Eli takes a step toward Lila.
She says something that makes him stop short.
His hand twitches at his side, and I tense, ready to gun the engine and race to her regardless of the consequences.