Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Who is he? he replies.
I’m not about to tell any of them Ghost was here and reap the results that won’t be what I want. The man with one red shoe, I reply. Not really. Just find him. Then we’ll talk. It’s time sensitive.
I move on to my next text, to Lucas: Ellis called. Elsa had him tied up. She saw my press conference, and is headed here in an emotional, erratic state. Find her.
He replies immediately with: There’s a bakery that her and her family went to every holiday. And an inn next door. I’m texting you the address. I’ll try to pick her up on the camera feed. More soon. And be careful, cousin. If you die, who will protect me from Kane?
I don’t laugh. I don’t answer. Lucas pings the address and I forward it to Kit and say: Our next stop. I’ll be out in ten if Taylor doesn’t corner me and next year if he does.
My last text is to Andrew: Elsa kidnapped Ellis but he’s free and she’s on the way to me. Did you check the attic in Mark’s house?
I’m not stupid, Lilah. Of course we did. Nothing but a Christmas tree and a dead mouse. And you need to be careful. I’m serious. Be. Careful.
Yeah, yeah, I think and slide my phone into my pocket. I don’t even consider texting Kane about Ghost, not when it changes nothing and hurts his focus. Today is his monthly shareholders update. He can’t be distracted and I will not allow all this hell to take what he’s worked to build, that has nothing to do with his father’s cartel.
I do another quick search of the room in those odd places I often find things—the bottom of the dresser, under the legs of the bed, beneath drawers and so on. I end up back in the bathroom but there’s not much to find. As it really should be. Any good forensics team should have gotten anything worth getting. And my brother runs a tight ship.
At this point, I realize I don’t know when Elsa would have left Maryland and I have my team randomly searching for her here. I text Adams: What time does Ellis think Elsa left for New York? And would she fly commercial?
He answers surprisingly fast: Hours ago but he’s not sure how long and he said no, she won’t fly commercial.
I forward the information to Lucas and have him try to find her point of arrival. In the meantime, hours ago could be longer than Ellis thinks. Elsa could be here and it’s time for me to head to her favorite little inn.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The ice cream shop and inn are thirty minutes from East Hampton, on Hampton Beach, basically the midway point between North and South Hampton. Somehow it’s already lunchtime but speed is critical when it comes to finding Elsa and I ignore my growling belly and head straight to the inn; a cute beachy spot, with the doors open, compliments of a beautiful day, the waves crashing nearby. A massive stone fireplace burns brightly and rather hotly, and there are lots of hotel-ish furnishings and a wood framed front desk.
I greet the attendant, a pretty Asian woman about my age wearing a badge that reads “Vivian” and then slide my FBI identification in front of her.
She glances at it and then me, her eyes brightening with recognition. “I saw you on TV.”
“Yes, yes you did. I held a press conference on the Mark Walker murder.”
“That’s horrible what happened. My boss was telling me that Mark and his family came here every winter for a decade.”
Bingo. Maybe? “Have they been in recently?”
“No. In fact Anna, that’s my boss, said she was shocked to hear Mark lived here.”
No bingo on this card. “I’m looking for his sister. We’re worried about her. She’s lost Mark, and both of her parent’s fairly recently.”
“Oh my. How tragic. I don’t remember her by name.”
I pull up the photo of Elsa on my phone and slide it in front of Vivian. “This is her.”
“Hmmmm. She’s pretty. That red hair is glorious. I’d remember her.” She shakes her head. “She hasn’t been in, not when I was on duty which has been often.” She keys into her computer. “Let me check our recent check-ins.”
We talk through her list, and it’s a dead end, it seems. “She might not have red hair right now,” I push gently.
“I still think I’d recognize her. I’d certainly know the name.”
“Is Anna here? Maybe she can help?”
“No. She actually left for vacation a few days ago. Her mom’s in a nursing home in Westbury and she’s moving her to a place a little closer. I guess that doesn’t seem like much of a vacation.” She waves away the comment with her hand. “She called me to check in and that is when she told me about Mark.”