Chapter 3
Jacob
“Where is Birdie?!”
Morra’s number two, Marcus something, steps away from his desk. He dismisses the security guards attempting to prevent my entrance as they claim I have no jurisdiction in their facility. “Welcome to Monarca, Detective. How was the ferry ride?”
I storm into his office. “Where is she? Is she with him?!”
“Calm down, Detective, and take a seat.” He rounds his desk and makes himself comfortable in his chair. “Would you like something to drink? Vegan coffee?”
I’ve never liked that asshole with the porn-star moustache. I barely stop myself from banging the glass surface of his desk with my fists. “I want to know where she is.”
He types something on his computer. “As you must know by now, Mrs. Abel is no longer our client. Her whereabouts aren’t monitored by Monarca anymore.
If you want to get in touch with her, you can either call or pay her a visit in person.
” His face mocks me. “Have you lost her number or forgotten her address? If that’s the case, I can’t help you either.
I’m unable to disclose any personal information about our former clients. ”
“What the fuck? Where is Morra? He has her. I know it in my bones.”
“Calm down and take a seat, or I’ll have to escort you out of the building myself,” he warns. “Or, better yet, call the police. It won’t look good for you, Detective, barging into people’s offices, abusing your authority.”
“Where is Morra?” I seethe.
He slams his laptop shut and shoots up from his seat. “He’s not here.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m not obliged to disclose Mr. Morra’s whereabouts either, but as a kind gesture, I will. He didn’t return to Boston with the rest of us. He took the first flight straight to New York to set up Monarca’s new branch.”
“So he took her there? He called her and told her some bullshit so she’d go be with him in New York?”
“I hope not. That woman is nothing but bad news,” he mumbles.
Now, I slam the surface of his desk with my palms. “What did you just call her?”
“You heard me. Tristan is like a brother to me. She used him and broke his heart to be with you, and for what?” He snorts. “You couldn’t keep her safe for one day.”
Son of a bitch. I clench my fists so hard my skin feels like it’s tearing off my fingers. I’m standing so close I can punch him toothless. “Call. Morra. Now.”
“Or what?”
“Or he’ll be the prime suspect in Birdie Abel’s missing-persons case.”
He rolls his eyes. “Missing persons? We left the island, what, around two p.m. yesterday, and now, it’s,” he checks his watch, “nine in the morning, for God’s sake.
You think she went missing because she hadn’t texted you back in two seconds?
Don’t you need like forty-eight hours to report someone missing, Detective? ”
“Fuck you. Do you think I’d be here talking to the likes of you or Morra if I didn’t think she was in danger? She was supposed to meet me last night. I went to pick her up, but she wasn’t there and hasn’t been returning my calls since.”
I’ve checked my phone a hundred times. Called her twenty-six. The last text she sent was a heart emoji after we finalized our plans. Dancing. She wanted to go dancing.
“A date on the same day she broke up with Tristan… She doesn’t waste time.”
“That’s it! Listen to me, you piece of shit, if you mouth another bad word about her, I won’t give a fuck about my badge. I’ll beat the shit out of you, do you hear me?”
“You will beat the shit out of me? Bring it, Detective. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
Part of me wants to take him up on it. Wants to feel something crack, wants to bleed out this helpless rage that’s eating me alive. But, for Birdie’s sake, I must stay focused, not reckless. “You’re gonna call Morra right now or I’ll bring you in too for being his accomplice.”
He doesn’t flinch, but he grabs his phone.
“Put it on speaker.”
His glare pierces me as he places his phone on the desk and taps the screen. “I’m only doing this so you’ll get the fuck out of here and never bother us again. Copy?”
Our stares clash as the dial tone echoes through my chest. One ring. Two. Three. Fou—
“Yes, Marcus?” Morra’s voice cuts through, sharp and alert. Too alert for someone who should still be jet-lagged and heartbroken over the woman he’s been obsessed with for eight years.
Marcus plays with his stupid moustache. “Good morning to you, too. How’s New York?”
“Dirty and fucked-up like the whole world, but I’m guessing that’s not why you’re calling first thing in the morning. Hit me. Who fucked up what now?”
“No one on our side, but Detective what’s-his-name is here. He wants to talk to you. You’re on speaker.”
“What? What are you doing there, Ashford? We have nothing to talk about, you and me. Get out of my building. Marcus, how the hell did you let him—”
“Where’s Birdie, Morra?” I cut him off. I’m done with the charade. “If she’s with you, if she went back to you…” I snarl, a flimsy disguise screwed tight over the panic boiling underneath. I’m furious she might be with him, terrified she might not be. “I just need to know she’s safe.”
“What do you mean if she’s with me?”
“We’re all adults here. She doesn’t have to hide it from me. You can just tell me.”
“Tell you what? I haven’t seen her since yesterday. What the fuck?”
“Morra, just be a man and tell me if you have her!”
“Jesus fuck! Are you deaf or stupid or both? She’s not with me.
She chose you, and you were supposed to protect her.
What the hell did you do? Did something happen to her?
I swear to God, if you couldn’t keep her safe, if someone so much as touched a hair of hers, I’ll fucking kill you. What happened?!”
The silence that follows stretches too long. My heartbeat echoes in my ears. The copper tang of fear fills my mouth, fear I haven’t felt since—
“She stood him up last night and wouldn’t return his calls. Now, he thinks she’s missing,” Marcus chimes in, “and, apparently, you’re his prime suspect. I’d be arrested as your accomplice, too. Lucky me.”
“Missing?” Morra ignores the sarcasm. “Ashford, when was the last time you spoke to her?”
“Six thirty yesterday. I arrived at her house at eight, but she never opened the door. I thought maybe she had a change of heart or needed some time to process…” But she’d have answered my texts, at least.
“Did you go inside the house? Did you check the lighthouse or the bistro? Did you do something, anything, to find her?”
“I couldn’t find her anywhere. I’ve been looking at traffic cameras all night to find her car or the Ducati, and nothing. That’s why I came here…to make sure before I get a warrant to search her house.”
“Fuck you, Ashford. I will find her. I’m coming back on the next flight.”