Chapter 9
MADISON
Outside, Jerry from the tree company is pruning the trees at the back of the yard. When he first got here, I told him about the camera I found. He promised to keep an eye out for any others, or anything else suspicious. I watch him work from the dining room, pleased with how everything is looking.
I’m not sure what to think when I see Sonia Colton’s name on my phone screen. Why is she calling?
Curious, I answer. “Hello?”
“Madison.”
“Yes, hi.” I’m not sure if I should know about the whole kidnapping thing.
If I weren’t seeing Seth, there would’ve been no reason for me to hear.
It hasn’t been on the news or anything like that—Nick and Sonia hadn’t been missing long enough for anyone to make a report.
So I decide to play dumb, despite spending over an hour looking up everything I could find about Erich Pointer.
I’ve learned he’s middle-aged with silver-gray hair, he’s filthy rich, and he’s steeped in drama with his mistress and wife.
But Sonia doesn’t know I know any of this, so I say, “Um, how are you? Is everything all right?”
“You took my baby boy away.” She breathes hard into the phone.
Only now do I pick up on her fury.
I pause, trying to come up with the right words. “What happened to Kyle was a tragedy,” I finally say. “He was out riding his motorcycle, and he—he crashed. I didn’t do that, Sonia.”
“You took my baby boy away,” she repeats, “and now you’re trying to take his brother. Screw you, Madison Greene. Stay the hell away from my sons.”
The line goes quiet—she hung up on me.
I slump down in a dining room chair and set my phone in front of me on the table. My face feels flushed. With shame? I haven’t done anything wrong, have I? With embarrassment? If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be Sonia for acting so unhinged.
I want to know how she even found out that I’m seeing Seth. We’ve barely been out in public together.
Pressing the back of my hand to one cheek in a futile attempt to cool myself down, I call Seth.
“Hey, Madison,” he answers. “Are you free tomorrow for—”
“Did you tell your mom that we’re seeing each other?”
A brief pause. “Yes. Fuck. Did she bother you?”
“You told her? What were you thinking? That this wouldn’t blow back on me?”
“Hey, you’re the one who seems to think everything is okay, that Kyle’s gone, and we should live our lives.” He sighs. “I figured it’s not a big deal to you.”
“I’ve struggled with you being my former brother-in-law. Maybe not as much as you, but it hasn’t been easy.” I close my eyes, hoping for patience. “This is a very big deal to me.”
“Okay, okay.” His voice is soothing, like I need to be talked down. “You’re right, it’s a big deal.”
Fuck this. He’s agreeing with me just to shut me up. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Madison, wait—”
“Bye, Seth.” I end the call and immediately put my phone on silent.
A text from Seth flashes on my phone screen, but I turn the device over before I can read it.
The faint buzz of Jerry’s chainsaw punctuates my irritation.
DAMIANO
The Penster police detective gave me her card the other night, following the rescue of Seth’s parents. I don’t like that it’s been three days without any updates. Frowning at the gray view of San Esteban outside my office window, I dial her number.
“Detective Franks,” she answers.
“This is Damiano Romano,” I say. “Co-owner of Nove. I was there the other night when the two hostages were rescued.”
“Right.” I hear background noise, like papers being shuffled around.
“I am calling to find out if Erich Pointer has been apprehended, and what the status is with the investigation.”
“Unfortunately, none of his men will admit to Pointer’s involvement. They insist they acted of their own volition, that this was a crime borne of jealousy on their part, not his.” She shuffles more papers around. “We won’t be able to bring him into custody without proof that he was involved.”
There’s the voice recording, but Landon and Cody determined that it isn’t Erich Pointer’s voice. He really has insulated himself from clear involvement.
“So there’s nothing you can do.” I try to keep the frustration out of my voice. It isn’t Detective Franks’s fault. At least, not entirely.
“No, but we’ll keep working on it. I’m sure this is the guy—I believe you and Mr. Colton. It’s just a matter of coming up with the hard evidence.”
“Understood. Thank you, Detective, for your time.”
I end the call and pinch the bridge of my nose, hoping to stave off a headache. Erich Pointer is still a free man. Slippery bastard.
With that phone call behind me, I get back to work. Nove has a mission coming up, to escort a rich heiress from Europe and over to Caperna to meet with one of the princes. It’s a tricky prospect, because her family is often the target of kidnappers hoping to extract ransom.
I’m midway through an email to Cassidy Fletcher, who will meet the heiress in Munich, when my phone buzzes.
There’s no text, only a single image.
Madison. She’s walking somewhere downtown. I recognize the street—Caro Boulevard. She has on jeans and a black sweater. She’s carrying a shopping bag from Carol’s Closet, the logo plainly visible on the side. Her handbag is looped over her shoulder and she’s brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
She’s completely oblivious to whoever is taking the photo.
This is a surveillance image.
Someone is stalking my girl.
MADISON
One thing I haven’t done since inheriting Great-Aunt Vivienne’s wealth, is gone on a shopping spree. I’ve never been well-off, and any kind of “spree” was always out of the question.
But today, it’s time to change that. So far, I’ve only browsed in the boutiques of Dorado Heights.
The prices on handbags in one store nearly made my eyes pop out of my head.
I understand the idea of treating oneself, but the first thing I do when I get home is drop my purse on the floor.
I wouldn’t treat one of those bags with the kind of care their price requires.
I do find a nice, casual dress in Carol’s Closet. I try it on and love the fit. Even though it costs more than I would usually spend on any item of clothing, I know I can afford it. Not only that, I deserve to treat myself. That’s the whole point of this excursion.
I leave Carol’s Closet and make my way down the sidewalk, looking for my next boutique.
“Madison! Hey!” My cousin waves at me from outside a burger joint.
A man stands next to him. He has buzzed, dark hair and he’s wearing sunglasses. As I start toward them, the other guy starts to walk away, but Ford grabs his arm.
“Just say hi,” Ford says to his friend. I don’t think he intended me to hear.
I wonder why the guy wouldn’t want to say hi to me, but I’m not all that fazed. Seth’s mom hates me, so this stranger can too. In fact, this is easier, because I don’t need to impress this asshole.
“Hey, Ford.” I give my cousin an awkward hug. “What’s going on?”
“Just here for lunch with my buddy Cormac. Cormac, this is my cousin, Madison.”
“Nice to meet you.” Cormac slides his sunglasses to the top of his head, revealing intense, gray eyes. He shakes my hand.
“Do you want to grab a burger with us?” Ford asks.
I don’t miss the subtle elbow Cormac jabs against Ford’s side, but I ignore it. After rudely sending Ford away from my house and his beloved trees, it wouldn’t hurt to make nice again. Besides, maybe if I hang out with Ford here, he’ll stop coming by the house uninvited.
Smiling at them both, I say, “I already ate, but I’ll have a quick drink and catch up for a minute.”
We all go inside and get a table. I order a peach lemonade and the guys order meals. Ford goes on for several minutes about an upcoming botany convention. I try not to let my eyes glaze over. Cormac, at least, seems interested, although he keeps sending me sidelong glances.
I talk a little bit about zombie shows. It turns out Ford likes Shamblers, so he and I share some theories about the final season.
Cormac looks between us as we talk, but he doesn’t say anything.
I try including him in the conversation, but he either shakes his head or takes a big bite of their onion ring appetizers.
Ford and Cormac’s burgers arrive. I take another sip of lemonade and stand. “I should get going. It was really nice to chat with you guys.”
My cousin jumps up and gives me a hug goodbye. Cormac gives me a hug, too. I back away quickly. That’s too familiar. If he notices my discomfort, he doesn’t show it.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says warmly. “We’ll see each other again.”
I kind of hope not. He didn’t say two words to me while I sat with them—he only stared at me.
As I leave Ford and Cormac, my phone buzzes in my purse.
I don’t pull it out to see who’s calling.
It’s probably Seth, and it’s better not to know.
Maybe this is childish of me, but I’ve been ignoring Seth’s calls and texts since yesterday.
I texted him back once, saying I need time to cool off.
He wrote back one word: Understood. But given the number of texts he’s sent since, I don’t think he truly understands.
He shared our relationship with his parents, without talking to me first. Me being blindsided by an angry call from his mom wasn’t his intention, but didn’t he consider how his revelation might affect me?
It doesn’t help that I have a feeling he only shared about me in order to get under her skin. His relationship with his parents is complicated—Kyle’s was, too. I have no doubt that Seth wielded me against them like a weapon, and that hurts.
I hike my purse strap higher onto my shoulder and step into a lingerie store.
Oh. Yes. This is where I’m meant to be. The displays are full of bra and panty sets, in styles ranging from sweet and innocent to downright wicked.
They come in a variety of fabrics—satin, lace, something that looks like leather.
At the back of the store, I see racks of teddies and nightgowns.
A mannequin next to me has on the cutest bra and underwear.
The satin fabric is white with a print of tiny red cherries, and red lace trim.
While I stare, transfixed by the gorgeous lingerie displays around me, an auburn-haired sales assistant approaches. With a professional smile on his face, he says, “Welcome to Angeli’s. Can I help you find anything?”
“No, it’s all right here. Can I buy one of everything?”
He laughs. “Sure, if you want. I could bring a few selections to a fitting room to get you started.”
“Thanks, that would be great.” I tell him my sizes and point to a few styles I prefer.
He gets to work collecting things, while a second employee approaches me. She asks if I’d like any refreshments. “We have sparkling water, coffee, tea, and orange juice.”
Is this how rich people live? “I’d love some water, thanks.”
“Sure thing!”
I feel like I’ve stepped into a completely different world when she returns bearing a tray with a bottle of sparkling water and a glass. She opens the bottle and pours it for me.
“Would you like a slice of lemon?” She points to a dish on the tray.
“No, but thank you.”
“Your fitting room is ready.” The male sales assistant gestures me forward. “I’m Max. If you need help with fittings, Kelsey can assist you, but if you’d like another size or style, you can ask for me.”
“Thanks, Max.” Clutching my glass of sparkling water, I step into my dressing room. It’s huge—almost as big as my bedroom in my last apartment. A low chaise takes up most of one wall, the fabric a stylish black suede. Several hooks line the walls, each one bearing a different bra and panty set.
I start with slipping off my clothes and bra. I try the cherry-patterned underwear on over my own pair. They fit great, but look really weird covering up mine, so I take them off again.
The bra is surprisingly comfortable. I love the red trim, which isn’t actually lace, but some kind of soft fabric. It isn’t itchy at all, like I’d feared. I admire myself in the mirror, turning this way and that, appreciating how the cups push up my boobs.
Coming from the front of the store, a low voice reaches my ears. It isn’t Max talking.
I press my ear to the door to hear better.
The man says, “Everything in that room with her, put it on this card. I will purchase it all.”
I know that voice, that soothing accent.
What is Damiano doing here?