Chapter 49
Agnes and Lauren’s guesthouse, West Hollywood, Los Angeles
‘We’re going to have to call the police,’ Agnes says. We’re sitting at the kitchen table the next morning, drinking the rose and hibiscus tea that Antoinette liked so much, as if it could somehow help in manifesting her back. I’ve told Agnes about the messages I found on Instagram.
Neither of us knows what our next move should be.
Well, Agnes does, but it’s not one I can go along with.
‘I know you don’t want to, Kitty, but there’s really nothing else we can do.
We don’t know where she is and all we have to go on is a stupid smashed phone with blood on it.
The police will be able to go through Antoinette’s tech with a fine-tooth comb.
They’ll be able to trace things like IP addresses.
They’ll help us. Even if they don’t think there’s really a killer out there, Antoinette is still missing. That’s just a fact.’
I sigh. I know she’s right. But the police.
I can’t call the police.
I just can’t.
It’s not just the corpse and the chatty hostage in the wine cellar, it’s everything. I can’t have them raking over our lives. Once they find a thread and start pulling, who knows where it will end.
And it’s not just me it implicates; Carmella and Gabriel helped us get rid of Ben Pemberton’s body, they’d be pulled into this whole mess too.
I can’t let that happen.
Not until I’ve exhausted every other avenue.
‘Everyone knows the first forty-eight hours are crucial,’ Agnes is saying now. ‘After that … well, the chances of finding her alive … they aren’t good, Kitty.’
I look at her, those ice-blue eyes are filled with concern.
‘It’s barely been twenty-four hours’ I say. ‘They won’t even take it seriously yet. That’s what Lauren said.’
Agnes purses her lips. I can tell she’s getting angry with me. ‘Kitty, respectfully, do you know everything about US cops from watching Law and Order? It doesn’t work like that.’
I sigh again.
I know we’re going to have to call the police.
It’s inevitable unless we have a breakthrough ourselves. And right now we’re closer to breakdown than breakthrough.
But I need time to clear the cellar out.
‘Twenty-four hours,’ I say. ‘Give me twenty-four hours. And then we’ll call them.’
Agnes’s brow puckers. ‘We’re wasting time—’
‘Twenty-four hours,’ I say, more firmly this time. ‘I’m sure you need some time to clear out the guesthouse.’ She blinks at me. ‘Do you think they won’t be all over your place as well?’
Agnes’s eyes widen and I feel a stab of guilt.
‘I’d never hurt her!’ Her voice is high-pitched with outrage.
‘Agnes,’ I say carefully, ‘I know that. Of course I know that. But the police don’t, do they? They know that most women are harmed by someone known to them. A romantic partner.’ I know the stats are typically male intimate partners but I let the insinuation sit there for a moment.
‘I’ve got nothing to hide,’ she says, jutting her chin out defiantly. ‘But okay. Let’s leave it twenty-four hours.’
Inspiration hits me suddenly.
‘Hey,’ I say, ‘so maybe we can’t call the police right now but we could call someone police adjacent.’
Agnes gives me a puzzled look. ‘What’s police adjacent?’
‘A private investigator. Travis.’
‘Travis who you kneed in the nuts and haven’t spoken to since?’ She looks sceptical. ‘Do you think he’ll help?’
I think about this.
I really have no idea. I wouldn’t want to help me after what I did. But he did like me. And what’s more attractive to a man than a damsel in distress? Doesn’t it make their protector instinct kick in or something?
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ I say to Agnes as I pick my phone off the table and scroll through until I find Travis’s name.
I press it and wait as it rings and rings.
I’m expecting it to go through to voicemail but then I hear his voice.
‘Kitty,’ he says. I try to decipher his tone. He doesn’t sound thrilled to hear from me, not by any stretch of the imagination.
But he answered. That’s got to count for something, right?
‘Hey, Travis,’ I say. ‘How are you?’
‘Not bad,’ he says. ‘I mean, no one has physically assaulted me after what I thought was a good date for a few days.’
I cringe.
‘I really can’t tell you how sorry I am about what happened,’ I say.
‘I know how sorry you are. I got your texts.’
‘Oh. Good,’ I say. ‘I wasn’t sure because you didn’t reply.’
I hear him sigh. ‘I’ve just been busy. I’m sorry. I wasn’t deliberately ignoring you.’ He sounds kinder now, his voice doesn’t have the edge to it that it did when he answered. ‘What are you up to?’
‘Actually,’ I say, ‘this isn’t a social call. I need your help with something.’
‘Okay. What?’
I don’t want to go through it all over the phone. ‘It’s complicated,’ I say. ‘Can you come over?’
There’s a pause. ‘I’m out on a job at the moment,’ he says. ‘But I can stop by this evening. Is that okay?’
It’ll have to be.
‘That’s great,’ I say.
I hang up and turn to Agnes, who’s looking at me with expectation.
‘He’s out of the area at the moment, but he’s going to come over later.’
She closes her eyes with relief. ‘Do you think he’ll be able to help us?’
‘I’m sure he will.’
I think about Travis and his not-that-brilliant attempt at finding Aidan Ward and suddenly I’m not so sure at all.
But it’s not like we have any other options.