Chapter Twenty-Seven
TWENTY-SEVEN
The aroma of breakfast—fresh coffee, sizzling bacon … was that, perhaps, a steak omelet in the air?—rose up the stairs and hit him straight in the stomach.
“Perfect,” Ginny said with a sigh, taking his hand. “Let’s eat before we’re spotted.”
He followed her down the stairs and towards the kitchen.
Ginny. His employee. His supposed fiancée.
Perfectly ordinary. Nothing at all complicated about their arrangement.
If he had to define his relationship with Ginny right now under oath or to his daughter, he would not struggle at all. Not even for a second.
He could see the kitchen, hear the hiss of the bacon, when they passed by the secondary living room. Rich people and their double living rooms. Unfortunately, they did not go unnoticed.
“Ginny,” her dad called out. “Come here real quick.”
“We were gonna get coffee.”
“Coffee can wait.” That was her grandfather. Shepherd hadn’t been around the Kents long, but he already understood the most important rule. You don’t disobey Elwin Kent.
Ginny rolled her eyes but squeezed Shepherd’s hand. “Coffee soon. I promise.”
Ah, a promise. That meant he’d better come up with a Plan B on his own, or he’d be coffee-less forever.
All his plans, and none of them ever accounted for the chaos of Ginny Kent.
“Listen, after coffee, I have to go get Lex and take her to a friend’s house.”
Ginny nodded. “Great, I could use a Lex break after all this bullshit.”
Shepherd hadn’t invited Ginny. The fact that she invited herself, that she wanted to see his daughter, made something that had been tight for years loosen most pleasantly in his chest. He frowned, deeply disappointed with himself.
He was a forty-two-year-old man. He didn’t need his heart going all pitter-pattering just because a pretty woman who slept with him the night before wanted to have breakfast with his daughter. Get yourself together, man.
But before he could fall even more into his self-indulgent, self-loathing spiral, he noticed that Ginny’s entire family was gathered around the TV. Not the entire family, of course, because her mother was still missing. And because her brother was on the television.
“What the hell is he doing?” Ginny asked.
“Giving a press conference,” her stepmother responded. “Obviously.”
Ginny looked up at Shepherd. Shepherd looked down at Ginny. He shrugged. “Obviously.”
“Why is he giving a press conference?”
Brandy rolled her eyes. “Because your mother is missing. Remember? At least someone is being proactive in finding her again.” At that, she gave Shepherd a significant look. “But I suppose none of us grieve the same.”
“Mom isn’t dead,” Ginny snapped. “There is nothing to grieve. And what happens between me and Shepherd is none of your business anyway, Brandy, because you won’t be invited to the wedding!”
There was such a gasp, the likes of which Shepherd had never heard. Both of the stepwomen clutched at their chests, their perfect mouths hanging open. Bradley Kent reached over and grabbed Brandy by the knee. “If I’m paying, you’re invited. Now, all of you, shut up, OK? I’m trying to hear Vincent.”
Obediently, they gathered in front of the TV. Shepherd held on to Ginny’s shoulders, started massaging his thumbs into her stiff muscles. She was trembling.
“So, what are our wedding colors?” he whispered in her ear. “You thinking spring or summer?”
Ginny shook her head, but she leaned against his chest and let him hold her.
On the TV, her brother was taking questions from members of the press. “Yesterday morning,” Vincent said. “We have it on camera, with a timestamp. She was taken by an armed, masked man yesterday morning at eight thirty-seven a.m. from a private home of a close friend in a Laguna Key neighborhood.”
The next question was unheard, but Bradley answered confidently: “It was a Toyota Camry. Light-colored. A newer model, possibly from 2021. If you live in or near that neighborhood, there is a tip line you can call and report any security camera footage that might have captured that car coming or going. If anyone out there”—he looked straight at the camera—“knows anything at all about where my mother is, please do not hesitate to call the tip line or the Monroe County Sheriff’s Office.
My family and I”—at this, he gestured at a woman and two young children behind him, all three of them looking like a family found in a store-bought picture frame—“are so thankful for any help at all. My mother is a wonderful, remarkable woman. I am heartbroken that this tragedy has befallen my family, that the criminals in this town have been able to operate unchecked for the last three years.”
“Gotta make it into a platform to run on,” Ginny mumbled.
“Why not?” her grandfather asked, his hearing surprisingly good for a man his age. “This is quite the opportunity for him. He can campaign on a Tough on Crime platform, with a personal connection to back it up. Your mother being kidnapped has practically guaranteed your brother his mayoral seat.”
“Please,” her brother said, still direct to camera.
“Her name is Deandra Kent. She is fifty-seven years old. She is five foot four inches. She has shoulder-length black hair, and blue eyes. We’ve supplied her photo to the press, and we encourage everyone to share it.
We don’t know where she could be right now.
She could still be here in South Florida.
She could be in another state. She could be in a different country.
On that note, I have asked my Reverend to pray. ”
Elwin Kent turned the television off. “That’s quite enough of that. You may go back to your breakfast now, Virginia.”
“Actually,” Shepherd said—he kept one arm draped around Ginny’s shoulders, started steering her out the door—“Ginny and I have to go pick up my daughter. Thank you for your hospitality.”
Ginny allowed herself to be taken away, but she whispered up at him, “There is coffee, Shepherd. And made-to-order omelets.”
“We’ll grab breakfast with Lex,” Shepherd said. “If I have to stay one more minute in this house with your family, I’m liable to be the one with a viral breakdown.”
Ginny gave him a constricting side hug. “I’m so happy you’re struggling, Shepherd. Really. It’s very affirming for me.”
“Well, anything for you, sweetheart. Now get in the car and find a good place for waffles. I’ll call Lex and tell her the plan.”