by Claire Raye
“You do a search at least?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I can’t, remember?” I tell him. “If I put in a request it makes me involved and I can’t be involved.”
Beck nods, turning away and staring at the rows of bottles that line the wall behind the bar. Neither of us says anything now, except my thank you to the waitress when she brings me my BLT. Eventually, Beck gives a quick nod before standing and turning to face me. “Leave it to me,” he says, meeting my stare. “I’ve got an idea.”
“You want to elaborate?” I ask.
Beck shakes his head as he offers me a grin. “Better if you’re not involved, right?”
I nod, taking a bite of my sandwich. “Thanks, Beck, seriously.”
His smile widens now as he claps me on the back. “Come on, you’re my brother, you know I’d do anything for you,” he says, before walking back around the bar and getting back to work.
It’s strange how close I feel to breaking down in that moment.
When I get back to work, I open up the notes I made from my run-in with Carla on Sunday night. After I add them to the running word document I’ve created of everything I can remember happening since this started, which uncoincidentally is also around the time I started dating Sarah, I attach it to an email and send it off to Detective Greenwood.
I don’t send or mention the video, not quite ready to go there yet. Even though I’m absolutely positive it’s come from Carla, who I’m sure has made copies she’s only too eager to share with the world, I’m not prepared to expose my girlfriend like that. No matter how much it might aid my own situation.
After I click send, I pick up my phone and send Sarah a text.
Me: hey babe, hope you’re not too tired after your early start this morning…hope the meeting went well?
Sarah’s reply comes back immediately.
Sarah: meeting was a bust, annoying…day is ok, how are you?
I can’t help but smile at the idea that someone cares about me and my day, at the warm feeling that creates in my chest. Who knew being with someone, having a relationship like this could feel so good.
Finn: I’m ok…you wanna come over tonight, I’ll cook you dinner?
Sarah: dinner and a sleep over…you must really like me Chief?
I laugh, continuously surprised by this easy banter we share, by how much I love it.
Me: I do indeed…so that’s a yes?
Sarah: YES! Want me to get anything…dessert?
Me: there’s only one dessert I need ;)
Sarah: cheeky boy…cu tonight x
Me: can’t wait x
I push my phone to the side and turn my attention back to work. Even though this dark cloud of bullshit that hangs over me shows no sign of disappearing anytime soon, just that simple back and forth with Sarah has somehow eased some of the anger and frustration that’s been building since I got that text this morning.
It’s amazing how much better things can seem with someone in your corner. Even though it continues to surprise me, I’m starting to see why Beck and Ryan gave everything up for the women in their lives. Considering everything you get in return, it all makes so much more sense to me now.
And it only strengthens my desire to protect Sarah from all of the bullshit I’m going through right now too, including knowing about that video.
Sarah arrives back in Rockport at a decent hour for a change and in a surprisingly good mood. When I ask her about it, she chalks it up to a productive day, but doesn’t elaborate, instead telling me about the new client Kelsey passed onto her and how much they liked her work. She’s been using her commute to do much of the work and while I hate the idea of her working such long days, it’s nice to see her happy about one job at least.
“So, you think you can help us out with the pub too?” I ask.
Sarah grins at me. “Kind of a weird conflict of interest there, isn’t it? Me related to one boss and sleeping with another?”
I chuckle. “Like I said, I promise I can be impartial,” I tell her. “But from what I hear, you’re really good at this stuff, so it isn’t going to matter.”
Sarah leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Of course I’ll help you out,” she says, nibbling my ear. “It would be my pleasure.”
I shoot her a glance, eyebrows raised. “And it would be my pleasure to repay you,” I say, giving her a wink.
Sarah laughs and it immediately makes my heart expand, as a warm feeling grows in my chest.
After dinner, Sarah and I spend the night on the couch binging on some Netflix show she’s into. It’s the second season and while I don’t really follow the story or understand what it’s about, it doesn’t matter. It’s just nice lying here with her.
I do make sure the blinds are closed though, because after this morning’s message, there’s not a chance in hell I’m risking someone being able to see us.
After a couple of episodes, Sarah sits up and stretches, her back arching in a way that makes my pulse quicken. “Ready for bed, Chief?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder at me.
I grin up her. “You better believe it,” I reply, standing and reaching out a hand to her. Sarah slides her hand into mine and I pull her up and into my arms, pressing a hard kiss to her mouth. “I’m just gonna take the trash out,” I say, lips against hers. “I hope I find you naked in my bed when I come back inside.”
Sarah grins. “I’ll see what I can do,” she says, winking before smacking me on the ass and sashaying off to my bedroom.
Grin still plastered on my face, I walk into the kitchen to grab the trash and recycling before heading outside. Lifting the lid, I’m about to dump the bag inside when I notice something strange sitting on the pile of garbage already in there.
Putting the bag on the ground, I lean in and grab what turns out to be a large yellow envelope. It’s brand new, clean as though it’s only recently been put in there and I can’t help but glance around, as though the person who dumped it might still be here. Of course they aren’t, so sliding a thumb under the tab, I rip it open.
Inside are pictures that have obviously been ripped from a magazine. Not just any magazine though, some kind of hard-core pornographic magazine. There must be close to half a dozen pictures, all of women in really compromising positions, including blinded, gagged and tied up while multiple men fuck them.
It’s sick, but the worst part is the faces of these women. All of them having been replaced by someone cutting out and sticking Sarah’s photo over it. It’s clearly a shot of her when she was unaware her picture was being taken and that alone should piss me off, but to see her superimposed over these pictures.
Now my blood is fucking boiling.
It’s one thing for Carla to come after me. To be pissed that I’m not interested in her or that it’s not her I’m sleeping with or whatever.
But to go after Sarah, a woman who has absolutely nothing to do with any of this, now I’m fucking livid.
Shoving the pictures back into the envelope, I quickly go through the rest of the trash to see if there’s anything else. Thankfully, this is all there is, so after I drag the cans to the curb, I head back inside, slipping the envelope into my work bag so there’s no chance of Sarah seeing it.
Then, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to calm down, I head back to my bedroom and the only thing keeping me sane right now.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sarah
I take each day at my job one day at a time, one hour, one minute, to just get through it. I call it a success if Andrew doesn’t speak to me and today is one of those days, but that doesn’t mean I’ve given up on ruining his life.
I’m still trying to find Eliza Anderson; all the while holding out hope she quit for all the reasons I think she did. Why would she leave after only working here for a few weeks?
The girl is basically invisible and that leads me to believe shit went down and she just wanted to disappear. She has no
social media pages, no LinkedIn profile, no mortgage records or apartment rentals. The whole thing is weird, and while I’m no detective, I do know one.
Finn is working late tonight, so when my train comes in I head over to Erin and Ryan’s. I haven’t had a chance to thank Ryan for sending Joe by the office the other day, and I feel like I’m totally neglecting my relationship with him.
Since hooking up with Finn, I haven’t seen Ryan at all, and I’m beginning to wonder if I’m intentionally avoiding him because of his past with Finn. Like I don’t want to hear about how much he doesn’t like Finn.
Ryan is honestly the reason I’m in Rockport and the reason I even met Finn, so I need to suck it up and stop worrying about if he’s bothered by my relationship.
I have bigger things to deal with now and I need Ryan’s help.
I walk in and the house smells like home, like our mother’s cooking and while I can cook, Ryan can cook like no other.
“Ryan!” I scream as I walk through the door and he and Erin both laugh loudly.
“She’s back,” Erin shouts out melodically and I skip toward the sound of her voice in the kitchen.
“So you just come back for the food, huh?” Ryan says while standing at the stove stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce.
“Never,” I say swatting at him playfully and stepping over to give Erin a quick hug. “I’m here to pick your brain about my sleazy boss and some detective shit.”
“You are just using me then.” Ryan lets out a pretend annoyed huff and returns to the pot on the stove. “And explain to me why I had to find out about the sleazy boss through Erin?”
“Because I can handle myself.”
As I say it I know it’s not exactly the truth. I can generally handle things myself but this shit is really throwing me for a loop.
Ryan fires off a deep guttural laugh and he leans back against the counter, “I’m not worried about you handling yourself. Fuck knows the only person who can handle you is yourself. I’m worried about your creepy ass boss putting his hands on you.”
I try to brush Ryan off, but I know he wouldn’t have sent Joe to my office if the whole thing didn’t concern him too. There are moments when I absolutely despise Ryan’s overprotective tendencies, but now isn’t one of them and I need to stop acting like this shit with my boss isn’t terrifying.
I have no idea how far he could take it, and the way I let my mind wander while thinking about Eliza Anderson and her reasons for quitting, her reasons for disappearing, are exactly why I’m here talking to Ryan.
“I know, Ry, and I owe you a thank you for sending Joe to meet me at the office. I talk a big game but my boss is creepy as fuck.” I run a hand through my hair, trying not to give away just exactly how scared I am.
I’m not just scared of Andrew, I’m scared of what might happen when I begin to get the ball rolling; when I finally find Eliza, when I report Andrew to HR, when I finally find a way to end what he thinks is completely normal office behavior.
“So hit me with it,” Ryan says, sitting down at the table next to Erin. “What’s going on?”
I fill Ryan in, leaving out the part where he cornered me in the elevator, because if Ryan knew Andrew put his hands on me, he’d be hunting Andrew down and kicking his ass.
I focus on the part about Eliza, about finding her, because a huge part of me feels like she’s my missing link. She will be the support I need to take Andrew down or maybe I’m putting too much on her being what I need.
“Were you able to get a cell number for her from anyone at work?” Ryan asks, and he chews his bottom lip, processing everything I’ve told him.
“Number’s disconnected.”
“Address?”
“Moved,” I say, getting annoyed all over again that everything I’ve tried has failed.
“You certain?” Ryan asks, and I can see the former detective in him coming out. “If she’s hiding something she may have more people involved than just herself.”
“Went by her apartment, well, what used to be her apartment, and the girl who answered the door said she had just moved in.”
Eliza didn’t live far from the office, only a few blocks and I ducked out on my lunch hour to see if I could find her. But the girl who answered the door was definitely not Eliza and the apartment was bare. The just moved in thing wasn’t a story because she opened the door wide, letting me have a look inside.
It was hard enough getting her address and phone number from one of the girls who worked in accounting with her, but finding her has proven impossible.
“What do you think about all of this?” Ryan asks, giving Erin as little nudge with his elbow. “Think she changed her name, Connelly?” Ryan gives Erin a wink and she smirks back at him.
“Totally could have and if I’ve learned anything from hiding, it’s shit doesn’t stay hidden forever.” Letting out a long sigh, Erin adds, “If you can’t find her, there’s a reason. Something’s wrong.”
My short conversation with Erin and Ryan just confirms my suspicions, and I have to find a way to get to Eliza Anderson.
“Why don’t you call Joe?” Ryan suggests. “Have him see if he can find her.”
Ryan texts me Joe’s number, and I call him immediately, but as the phone is ringing, I have a better idea, and when Joe picks up I tell him what I need.
Even though it’s getting late, I decide to head back over to Finn’s house to spend the night. He’s working the late shift, but he’ll be home around midnight. I also left my laptop over there and I want to get to work on some marketing plans I have for the pub.
Erin is passed out on the couch, sprawled across Ryan while he’s watching TV. I watch from the doorway as Ryan absentmindedly twirls one of Erin’s red curls around his finger, his other hand resting on her belly.
I feel my heart climb up into my throat and I swallow hard. I love what Ryan has with Erin. I love the simplicity of their relationship and how much he adores her; they’re perfect together.
“I’m going to spend the night at Finn’s,” I whisper to Ryan not wanting to disturb Erin, and I wait for Ryan’s snarky response.
He pauses briefly, looking up at me from the couch, as he blows out a slow breath. “I’m glad you have Finn,” he eventually says. “He’s a great guy, Sarah. A way better guy than I ever gave him credit for.”
I’m absolutely floored by Ryan’s comment. I was led to believe the animosity between the two of them was still fresh, especially after what went down with Erin.
“Yeah, I know,” I respond, but still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Ryan actually approves of someone I’m dating.
“Does he know about what’s going on with your boss?”
I nod my head and then shake it back and forth. Finn doesn’t know, at least not the full extent of it. It’s so hard because we both are going through a ton of shit, and it really just seems better to keep it to myself.
“He doesn’t,” I admit. “And please, please don’t say anything to him, Ryan. Please.” I’m begging because I know how this usually goes down. I walk away and Ryan calls Finn and rats me out.
“He’s going through his own shit right now. He doesn’t need this piled on top of it. Plus, I got this. I’ve got Joe helping me out. If things escalate, I promise you Finn will be the first to know.”
My words come out fast and shaky, but the last thing I need is the concern that Ryan’s going to out me to Finn as I stand here attempting to defend myself.
“I won’t say anything,” Ryan concedes and I breathe a sigh of relief. “But make sure you keep Joe up to date and if anything changes, I want to know about it.”
I agree and thank Ryan for dinner, and for being my sounding board, for not making me feel like I was overreacting to the Eliza thing. And for hopefully leading me down the right path to getting Andrew off my ass.
I pull into Finn’s driveway five minutes later and the house is dark. I hate that with everything g
oing on with Carla, he doesn’t leave a single light on. That crazy bitch could currently be sitting in his dark house waiting for him to come home from work.
I shudder, and grab my phone, texting Finn.
Me: I’m at your house and you have no fucking lights on!
Finn: Sorry, babe. I’ll be home in ten. Slow night here anyway. And it’s fucking Rockport, btw.
I laugh at Finn’s text. He’s right; it’s a small town with little going on. I’ve watched way too many Snapped episodes and not everything in life is a worst-case scenario.
I exit my car and walk down the driveway to Finn’s mailbox, but before I can reach it, I hear a woman’s voice call my name.
I look around in the darkness but fail to notice anyone. The streetlights barely light the road and sidewalk, and with no lights on at Finn’s it’s difficult to see anything.
The person calls my name again, and it’s a voice I don’t recognize, but it’s melodic and high, almost eerie sounding.
I stop again, my hand on the mailbox, but this time when my name is called, the person is standing right in front of me.
I startle, nearly screaming out into the blackness of the night.
It’s Carla.
“Hey Sarah,” she says, her high-pitched tone overly friendly. “So glad I caught up with you. I know Finn’s working late tonight and I’m sure he’d be a little freaked out by his ex chatting with his new girlfriend, but you know, whatever.”
It’s not a whatever, and I stand starring at her, my eyes wide and my body frozen, wondering if I should just walk away without even acknowledging her.
When I don’t respond she keeps talking, her voice growing unnaturally higher with each word, her eyes scanning everything around her as she speaks.
I hate that she knows Finn is working late. I hate that she called herself his ex. But above all, I hate that she has me out here in the dark…alone. This was exactly what she was going for.
This girl has lost her fucking mind.
