Chapter 73
iris
‘How do you know Amy’s missing?’ I say.
‘I just came from Colt Smith’s house,’ Quinn says. ‘Amy’s car is there, but there’s no sign of her, or Colt.’
‘She’d never go there,’ I say instantly. ‘She hates that man.’
‘Well, her car’s there,’ Quinn says. ‘Christ on a bike, I need a cigarette.’
She lights up without asking, offering me the packet. It’s been years since I smoked, and never something as strong as French Gauloises, but my nerves are shredded, and the hit of nicotine is worth the sudden head rush.
‘The living room was trashed,’ Quinn says, exhaling a stream of blue smoke. ‘Crap everywhere. No blood, but it looked like the aftermath of one of those Airbnb rave horror stories. I don’t know who did what to whom, but something sure as fuck went down.’
I take a deep drag of my cigarette, ignoring the sudden surge of nausea.
‘You think Colt’s taken her?’ I ask.
‘Nope. His truck’s still there, too. And so are both their phones.’
‘Did you call the police?’
‘And say what? Amy’s a grown-ass woman, and Colt’s the most powerful man in town. They’re not going to start a missing persons inquiry on the basis of a few broken plates.’
I open the fridge and pour myself a glass of white wine, buying time to think. Quinn eyes my glass like a boa constrictor approaching a mouse, but when I hold out the bottle to offer her some, she shakes her head.
‘Colt’s got more than one car,’ I say. ‘Maybe he used another one to kidnap Amy. Maybe Amy used it to kidnap him. Maybe they’ve made a suicide pact to jump off a cliff together. Why should I care?’
‘Because I think Rose is involved,’ Quinn says.
I laugh mirthlessly. ‘So now you think Rose has kidnapped them?’
‘I think Nicky Gray has been hiding up in the mountains for fifteen months with the corpse of a man he helped to hide, perhaps even killed, and I think he may, to put it politely, be suffering from mental health issues,’ Quinn says.
‘He’s clearly got an axe to grind with your sister, and who knows what shit has gone on between him and Colt.
The police are suddenly crawling all over the place he’s been hiding, forcing him out into the open.
I think he’s probably angry and desperate.
And yes, I think it’s possible he’s dragged Rose into whatever it is he’s doing. ’
Quinn Wilde is the most level-headed person I’ve ever met. I can’t think of anyone less likely to over-react.
‘Rose would have told me if she’d been in contact with Nicky,’ I say. ‘She wouldn’t have kept it secret all this time. She thinks he’s dead.’
Quinn gives me a look.
I put down my wine glass and cigarette and reach for my iPad, which is charging on the dock at the end of the kitchen counter. ‘As long as she hasn’t turned off the tracking app on her phone, I can find—’
I break off.
The messages app is open on my screen, just as I left it this morning. My devices auto-sync through the Cloud, meaning any texts from my phone automatically update to my iPad.
Including those I didn’t write.
I turn the screen towards Quinn.
‘I didn’t send these,’ I say.
She scrolls through the series of texts between my phone and Amy’s, arranging for us to meet over at Colt’s to talk about Nicky.
‘Does Rose know your password?’ she asks.
‘It’s not hard to guess.’
‘Where is she now?’ Quinn says.
‘I don’t know. She’s turned off the tracking app on her phone.’
‘Try tracking your phone, then. She might not have thought to turn that off if she’s taken it with her.’
I pull up the app. Quinn’s right: a blue locator dot pulses from the centre of the map.
‘She’s in the mountains behind Amy’s old house,’ I say. ‘I think it must be Raylan Adams’s cabin. Why would she be there?’
‘It’s the perfect place,’ Quinn says, pushing back her kitchen stool with an ugly scrape that sets my teeth on edge. ‘The police have checked the cabin already; no one will be going back there anytime soon. She and Nicky can hide out there as long as they need.’
‘You don’t know Rose is with him,’ I say. ‘She could’ve just given him my phone. I dropped her at school this morning myself.’
‘She’s involved either way, Iris. We need to find them before they do something stupid.’
‘One of us needs to stay here in case you’re wrong,’ I say. ‘If Rose comes back, I’ll get the truth out of her.’
‘Fine,’ Quinn says. ‘Keep me posted.’
I wait until I see her car pull out of the drive.
And then I open my iPad and check the tracking app again.
The blue dot pulses steadily, signifying the location of my iPhone: in the marina, exactly where it’s been all along.
I don’t like lying to Quinn, but she left me no choice.
I have to stop Rose and Nicky before they wreck everything.