by Tania Joyce
Kyle stormed into the room, followed by the detectives, Taylah and Sam. Everyone took a seat around the boardroom table. Jones and Morris next to Marshall. Taylah, two chairs away from him and Sam.
Jones sifted through his folders, grabbed the printouts and handed them to Kyle. “This is what we got from the bar footage. Enhanced imaging shows black hair sticking out from underneath the hat. Going on physique and Taylah’s recent activities, we thought it was her.”
Kyle examined the five photos, feeling Taylah’s wary but starstruck eyes plastered to him. God, the pictures looked like her. Black hair, slender shoulders, same shaped jawline. It is her. Whatever bullshit she had spun, he had to get to the truth. He slapped the photos on the table in front of her and stabbed them. “This is you, isn’t it? You shoot through on your lunchbreak?” Time to fess up, bitch.
Jones hit him with a hard glare. Morris, with a half-smirk on his face, seemed to be enjoying the show.
Taylah jerked her chin back. “No. I don’t know who is in these pictures, but it isn’t me.”
Liar! Kyle clenched his fists, dug his fingernails into his flesh. What did he have to do or say to get her to confess? For her to tell them where Gemma was?
Jones picked up his pen, spun it, and clicked it against the table, like he had during his first meeting with Everhide. Every click drove tension into the back of Kyle’s neck like a tightening clamp. Gritting his teeth, Kyle snarled at Taylah. “You’re lying.”
Her eyes welled with tears again. “No. I’m not. It’s the truth. I don’t know why you think I have something to do with her disappearance. Is this more serious than the detectives have let on?”
“Beyond serious. Where did you take her?”
“Take her?” Taylah’s eyes widened. “You mean as in k-k-kidnapped?” she stuttered. “Oh. My. God. Is that what’s happened?”
Frustration got the better of Kyle and he turned on Jones and Morris. “What the hell did you question her about? What she ate for dinner?”
Morris kept his poker face in place. “Kyle, we asked her regarding her whereabouts and checked their validity. She has been cleared. So stop. Now.”
There was no way in hell he’d do that. He tilted his head toward Taylah. Acid dripped off his tongue. “Are you jealous of her? Delusional. Think you and I should be together?”
Taylah gaped, rubbing the tattoo of his face on her forearm. “What? No.”
“Did you hurt her?” His chest seized at the very thought.
Taylah shook her head. “God no. She’s awesome. You two look amazing together.”
He slapped his hand on the table and shot Taylah his most chilling stare. “Then where is she?” His voice cracked through his clenched teeth. “What the fuck have you done with her?”
Jones shoved his chair back and shot to his feet. “Kyle, enough. Do you want me to haul your ass out of here?”
Meeting Jones square in the eye, his blood hit boiling point. “No, I don’t. But I will not calm down. Not until Gem’s found.”
Taylah held her hand out toward Jones. “It’s okay.” There was a shaky edge in her voice. “I deal with distraught people all the time at the hospital. I can understand why he’s upset. I’ve seen every online video and interview of Kyle and know this isn’t his normal self. He’s a softy at heart. Just overly emotional right now.”
Who was this chick? Mother Fucking Theresa?
She swiveled on her chair to face him. She still had that star-struck haze in her eyes. “Kyle, please believe me. I don’t know where Gemma is.”
You’re full of shit.
Hunter burst through the door with Mick tailing him. “What’s going on?” His face blanched at the sight of Taylah.
“What the hell, Collins?” Jones spat. “I don’t need you in here too.”
Hunter shrugged. “Sue me.”
Kyle jumped from his seat and paced the floor, filling Hunter in on what had happened. Jones folded his arms and his eyes bored into him the whole time. Taylah’s mouth hung open in an ‘O’ shape and her eyes swirled with a teary bedazzled gaze.
She took a deep breath and placed her hand on her heart. “Wow . . . both of you are here. For real. Like . . . in person. So surreal.” She took a few steadying breaths, drew her shoulders back, and wiped her damp cheek.
Kyle had had enough. He stormed toward the desk and smacked his palms onto the surface. He shot icy daggers at Taylah. “For the last time. Where is she? What the fuck have you done with Gemma?”
“Nothing. I swear. I love you guys. And Gemma.”
Jones’s face reddened. His eyes bulged. He stepped toward Kyle and pointed to the chair beside Taylah. “Kyle. Sit down and shut up, or you’re gone. Got it?”
Marshall and Morris stiffened, ready to assist Jones.
Clenching his fists, Kyle’s breaths came hard and fast like a dragon ready to spit fire. He burned from the inside out, his hold on control slipping. He wanted to pick up the chair and smash the glass. Throw the files across the room. Upend the desk and break it into pieces. No.
Catching his breath, he turned away from the table and stepped toward the wall. He closed his eyes and covered his mouth with his hand. Flashes of his father in a rage hurtled through his mind. Don’t be like this. Don’t be like him.
He glanced at Hunter standing by the wall. An I’m-just-as-worried-as-you look was written all over his face. Knowing Hunter and their security were as concerned about Gemma as he was earthed his fuse. He needed to draw on Hunter’s control and Gemma’s strength, wherever she was, to get through this.
Nope.
No chance.
Without Gemma, the restraint on his temper had worn paper-thin.
This chick would pay.
He spun back toward the table and gripped onto the edge so tight he thought it might snap. “If you’re such a fan, and love us so much, why have you been sending us sick, fucked-up letters?”
“Letters?” Taylah smoothed her hand over her hair and furrowed her brow. “You mentioned something in Vegas about letters. But I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Kyle reefed the top folder off Jones’s pile, grabbed the copies and slapped them down in front of her. “These.”
Jones lunged after the paperwork, but Kyle ripped them out of his reach.
Fire burned in Jones’s eyes. “She doesn’t need to see those. We’ll handle this.”
Kyle’s insides screamed. “Like you have up until now?” He handed Taylah the letters, his eyes pinning Jones. He drove his nails into the palms of his hands, wishing he could punch the shit out of the guy. But being thrown in jail wouldn’t help Gemma. “You had to wait until Gem was kidnapped before you acted.”
Morris stabbed his finger against the table. “That’s not the case, and you know it. We are, and always have, been doing everything we can. Following every lead. Whoever is behind these threats knows what they’re doing and have been very elusive.”
Kyle’s nostrils flared as he watched Taylah reading the letters. Nausea pooled in his gut knowing this sick chick wrote them. That she hated Gemma so much. That she was obsessed with him. He didn’t want to be near her, but he had to do so to find Gemma.
“Last warning, Kyle.” Jones pinned him with his gaze. Kyle could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. “Sit. You’re here to discuss Miss Anderson’s innocence, not pass on evidence.”
Sam gave Kyle a stern nod.
Kyle sucked in a deep breath, rolled and stretched his neck. Stepping around Taylah, he grabbed his chair and took a seat, angled sideways. He raked his fingers through his hair, stretched his legs out, and propped his elbow on the desk. He gave a quick flick of his hand at Jones, encouraging him to proceed. Hurry up. Let’s get on with it.
Jones grumbled and returned to his seat.
Taylah hadn’t handed the letters back. She shuffled and read through the pages. Her lips mouthed the words. Her face paling to ghost white.
Kyle counted each one. Wait. They’d
received five letters. Why were there seven? He grabbed them after Taylah finished and scanned the words. More sickening death threats. He flipped the pages around to Jones. “When did these two turn up? Why haven’t I seen them before?”
Hunter dashed over from leaning against the wall and read them. “Jesus. There are more?”
Morris raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Both were delivered to your record company. Your manager sent them to us after she had notified and discussed them with Miss Lonsdale.”
Kyle’s heart didn’t know whether to crumple or freeze. Gemma had lied to him? Hidden the details of more letters? And Sophie was in on it too? Gemma must have told Sophie not to mention them. His sworn oath with Gemma was to never keep secrets or lie to each other. So why had she? Why?
None of that mattered now. He had to turn this city upside down to find her.
Taylah shed a tear; the papers trembled in her hands. “I’ve never seen these letters before in my life.” Her shoulders rounded like a hedgehog curling into a ball. The fear in her eyes caught him off-guard. No . . . don’t fall for her games. Her voice shook. “Death threats? On Gemma? Who’d do this?”
“Um? Someone crazy like you,” Kyle mumbled under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.
“I swear on my life.” Another tear fell onto her cheek and she brushed it away. “I didn’t send these. I’d never hurt Gemma. Never stop you from marrying her.”
Kyle’s heart constricted with every beat. I should be married.
He shot forward to the edge of his seat. One more inch and he’d be down on his knees, begging. “Then please, if you know anything about where she is, tell me. I need her to come home. Safe.”
He needed Gemma more than oxygen. He’d lost his family; he couldn’t lose her too. What would he do if something horrific had happened? He couldn’t bear the pain. Even the mere thought crippled him.
Taylah picked up one of the letters and then another. “Kyle, I didn’t do this. I can’t help you. I’m so sorry.”
His heart hit the floor. He hung his head. This was useless. God, even he started to believe her denial.
She picked up another page.
He looked up, scrutinizing her every move, saw her concentrating on each page as she read them again.
Kyle pointed to the letters. “You know something, don’t you?”
Taylah shook her head but remained focused on the pages. “No. I mean . . . these words. This line. I know it. It’s always on this person’s comments on my Ringers fan page or . . . could be on my personal Facebook page. I have thousands of friends on each. Any time I post about you, they always sign with ‘Kyle’s mine. Mine. Mine.’”
Kyle’s heart kickstarted. “You know who it is?”
“Not off the top of my head. But they’re always active on my posts.” Taylah’s gaze flitted from his to Jones to Morris to Marshall. “Search my Facebook pages. You’ll find the person I’m talking about.”
Holy shit. Kyle’s gut hit the floor. Did they have the wrong person? Or was this just another diversion? If Taylah was right, saying sorry would never rectify what he’d accused her of. But this wasn’t over. Not until they’d found Gemma. He wouldn’t let her off the hook yet.
“Didn’t you search her social media?” Kyle directed his snarky tone toward Jones. Wouldn’t they have done that when she was a suspect?
Jones remained unmoved by Kyle’s challenging glare. “Taylah was cleared after our first interview. There was no need. We analyzed your social accounts but found nothing abnormal.” He waggled his pen toward Marshall. “Let’s move on this. Can you issue an emergency request to get Taylah’s data from Facebook? See if we can find the comments and link them to a profile?”
“Yep.” Marshall nodded. “But it can take up to twenty-four hours for Facebook to respond.”
“What?” Kyle was over damned processes and no outcome. How did any case ever get solved? “Gemma could be dead by then. We need to act. Find her now.”
Taylah pointed to Marshall’s laptop. “Can we use that? We can search my posts. I’ll give you my data. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“I appreciate your cooperation,” Jones nodded, “but we have procedures to follow.”
Kyle clawed his hands and raked his fingers through his hair. “We don’t have time for procedures. Taylah’s here, willing to help. Let’s do this.”
Jones’s eyes narrowed into razor-sharp slits. It was as if Jones had had enough of his outbursts. It reminded him of his dad’s you-do-it-my-way-or-no-way attitude. Kyle’s blood turned to titanium. He wasn’t afraid of Jones. Jones withdrew his gaze from Kyle and jutted his chin toward Taylah. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I said I’d do anything to help.”
Jones tapped his pen against his folders. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on him, waiting for his response. He sighed and flicked his hand. “Fine.”
Marshall spun the laptop around to Taylah. “Use this to log into your account. I’ll go grab my other one to run the traces and analysis.”
As Marshall rushed from the office, Kyle jumped to his feet and paced the width of the room. He racked his brain. How had they gotten this so wrong? Who was it if it wasn’t Taylah?
Hunter tapped him on the arm. His face was drawn; dark circles loomed underneath his eyes. He leaned in close so no one else could hear. “God, I hope Taylah’s onto something.”
Kyle clutched Hunter’s shoulder. “She has to be. I have this awful feeling Gem’s in real danger.” The feeling had been gnawing like a rat on a rope inside his gut since she went missing, growing worse by the hour.
“Me too.”
“How could I let this happen? I should’ve done more to protect her.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, it is.” He was to blame, right alongside Gemma and her stubbornness. She should’ve listened. “I’m sorry I epically failed Interrogation 1-0-1.” His head hurt, missing Gemma’s sarcastic sense of humor.
A lopsided smile tugged at the corner of Hunter’s mouth. “No. You nailed it. If you hadn’t shown Taylah those letters, we wouldn’t have this lead.”
True, but I shouldn’t have lost my temper.
This had to be the right step.
He had to trust Taylah.
He’d gone from despising her to putting Gemma’s life in her hands.
Taylah looked up from typing, and her hand shot over her chest. Her puffy eyes darted back and forth between him and Hunter. “I know you’re worried and I wish I was with you under different circumstances. I know it’s not a good time to get all fangirl on you, but wow. Just, wow! Seeing how much you love Gemma, makes me adore you even more.”
She really was wearing rose-colored glasses, a truly devoted fan. But right now, he was glad she’d turned a blind eye to his poor behavior. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m sorry I got all apeshit.” Kyle pointed at her laptop. “If you help find Gem and you have absolutely nothing to do with her disappearance, I’ll make it up to you. Just do whatever it is you have to do and find who this is.”
Marshall came back into the room with another laptop and sat beside Taylah.
Jones pulled his chair closer toward Marshall. “You got this?”
“Yep.” Marshall’s fingers clicked on the keyboard as he typed. His eyes stayed glued to his screen. “Let’s see if we can find our stalker-come-kidnapper.”
God, it was like watching two gaming geeks go into battle as Taylah and Marshall worked side by side.
Taylah gave Kyle an encouraging smile. “I know this tagline, Kyle. We’ll find her.” She turned back to her screen and gawked. “My God. I knew it. There are hundreds of comments with that phrase. They’re on my profile page, not the fan page. Those posts aren’t public. The person’s name is . . . Forever Mrs. McIntyre. Well, if that isn’t a giveaway, I don’t know what is.”
“Now what?” Kyle stepped in behind Taylah.
“Click on that name. Open the profile page.” Marshall pointed at Taylah’s screen.
“On it.” She clicked the name.
Kyle held his breath, scanning the screen. A cartoon avatar was the profile picture. No personal details were on the information page.
Shit.
Nothing.
Marshall’s voice took on a sense of urgency. “Go into your Facebook settings and download a date range of six months of your posts’ data. I’ll run it through our diagnostics, see if we can find who it is via IP addresses, device IDs, etcetera.”
Fuck. This will take forever.
Kyle’s patience teetered toward breaking point. He was losing his mind. He hated standing there, doing nothing. Waiting. But what else could he do?
Data was downloaded. The USB drive was ripped from the laptop in front of Taylah and inserted into Marshall’s.
“Just running through diagnostics now.” Marshall’s fingers glided over his keyboard.
Kyle stood, peering over his shoulder, chewing on the edge of his thumb. His heart raced like a dragster. Please. Please. Please. Find her. He should’ve done more to protect Gemma. He should’ve canceled picking up his suits and gone with her to Nina’s. He’s lost Gemma over wanting to wear a new fucking tie. How stupid was he? He’d never live with himself if something awful happened to her.
Taylah clicked on the photo album on Mrs. McIntyre’s profile page. “Let’s see if she’s got anything here.” She scrolled through the albums. They were all just pictures of him from Everhide’s photo shoots and events. They weren’t personal photos; just images anyone could save off the Internet.
Kyle watched Taylah’s screen and half-heartedly listened to Marshall’s rambling. “Looks like they used a VPN. I’ll see what else I can find . . . ”
Losing hope, Kyle’s heart filled with lead. Another dead end.
“Wait.” Kyle tapped Taylah on the shoulder to stop her scrolling through the photos. “Go back a few screens . . . stop.” There, on the screen, was a picture of him. A personal photo. On Hunter’s balcony. He sifted through his memories. That suit. He’d worn it to his engagement party. Who’d taken that photo of him outside? He tapped and strummed his fingers against his brow. His heart raced in time. Come on . . . think.
Marshall hollered. “Aha! I think I have a cell phone ID . . . Running a trace . . . Gotcha.”
