Steel Rush (In the Shadows#5)

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Steel Rush (In the Shadows#5) Page 5

by P. T. Michelle


  I slide my hands in my pants pockets. “At the Carver estate. I’m doing some extra security duty for Celeste Carver during her father’s social events the next couple of days.”

  Gil tilts his head and eyes me. “She’s a real beauty from what I’ve seen in the tabloids.”

  When I realize I’m nodding, I shrug. “She’s also spoiled and newly engaged.”

  Laughing, Gil lifts his cane toward me. “Engaged isn’t married. Not yet.”

  I stiffen. “She’s a client, Gil. Nothing more. I don’t need you to find me a girlfriend.”

  He squints at me, then taps his barrel chest. “Hey, I introduced you to Alana. You two seemed to hit it off.”

  Shaking my head, I reach for the door. “Again, stop trying to play matchmaker, old man. I’m going to go over the schedule with Erik and have him run the training.”

  Gil tugs his hat’s bill, pulling it farther down on his head. “Why am I here, then?”

  “To hammer that damn cane on the floor. Why else?” I say with a wide grin.

  I’m pretty sure he flipped me off as I headed out the door.

  “Where are my keys?” I confront Marco in the hallway outside Celeste’s bedroom after I found my purse dumped on the bed.

  He pushes off the wall and jams thick fingers through his dark hair, breaking its slicked hardness into standing separate pieces and shrugs his thick shoulders. I twitch my nose and try not to breathe in the waft of strong aftershave that floats my way. “Anthony took Celeste’s car to be processed. Everything of hers has been taken to comb through it for any leads we can find.”

  Phillip must’ve informed the guards since he’s having them collect her belongings. Great, the man who is supposedly protecting me knows I’m an imposter. I’m so glad Calder insisted on being my security, because this guy has no reason to risk his life to save mine. And I can tell by the twitching smirk on his mouth and dislike in his eyes, he’s enjoying my annoyance.

  My phone is in the trunk of her car. Calder is going to flip when he doesn’t hear from me. God, who knows what they’ll do when they discover my phone. Will they wipe it completely? Grrr. Wait, Marco mentioned taking everything. I step back to the doorway of the room. Damn it! Her laptop is gone too. Even though I know Celeste’s family has every right to confiscate her things, I keep my gaze from skirting to her nightstand where I replaced her diary in its hidden compartment.

  “Whatever,” I say, showing mild irritation as I casually step into the room and shut the door in Marco’s face. The second I quietly flip the lock on the door, I head for the nightstand, my heart pumping.

  I apply pressure to the drawer’s fake bottom panel, but when it easily gives underneath my hand and no book slides onto the carpet, my heart sinks. Empty. Her diary is gone too.

  Standing, I rub my temples in frustration, wondering how I’ll find Celeste now. Her room was supposed to be my base of operation, but now it’s devoid of all potential leads. I turn a full circle in Celeste’s room, looking for other sources of information, but nothing jumps out. And now I can’t even do any research via the web without a phone or a laptop, nor can I chase down leads without a car.

  Feeling frustrated and trapped, I pause when I notice Celeste’s gold necklace with the diamond locket, gold heart and key still on her dresser where I left it yesterday. Why did they take her diary but not the key to access it? Granted, the lock could be jimmied, but why take a chance on breaking it if the key was right here? It doesn’t make any sense…unless they didn’t know the key on the necklace fits the lock. Pressing my lips together, I hook the necklace around my neck once more for safekeeping.

  There has to be something I can do with the last search criteria Celeste used, but I’ll need access to the internet. I know Beth probably has a laptop in her room, but her reaction to my request to borrow her phone doesn’t bode well for me using her computer. Was there a laptop in the library? I start for the bedroom door, then pause. Marco will follow me everywhere I go, and who knows what he’ll report to Gregory. I need access to a computer without anyone reporting my activities.

  Turning toward the bathroom, I close the door behind me and open the linen closet. Sliding back the panel on the far wall like Beth showed me last night, I step into the narrow space between the walls.

  Once I close the panel, darkness consumes me. I wish I had my cell phone to light the way, but after blinking in the cramped space for a few seconds, my gaze adjusts to the darkness. I’m relieved to see bits of light coming through here and there. It’s probably from cracks in walls, but I take advantage of the faint light and hold my hand out to keep from smacking my head into a beam, corner or exposed nail as I move in the direction Beth took us last night. Pressing my lips together, I silently pray I don’t run into any spider webs.

  After a few minutes, I finally find the narrow staircase Beth took me down and turn sideways to take each step. Just when I reach the bottom, I notice a longer stream of light and peer through a place where the doorjamb doesn’t quite line up with the wall.

  I can see right into the formal room from here, which makes me wonder what other parts of the house I can see from behind these walls. Instead of looking for the way we exited yesterday—via a panel that leads to a cramped coat closet next to a back door entrance—I start exploring every crack on the main floor. I discover that I can see into the small alcove in the kitchen and also Gregory’s office. The last place I end up is a steep stairwell that leads down to a narrow pocket door.

  Cracking it open, I realize I’m in the Carver’s impressive wine cellar with a long tasting table flanked on either side by floor-to-ceiling custom wooden drawers of wine. The whole collection is probably worth more than my parents’ Hamptons house. Shivering at the cooler temperature, I brush off the dust from my clothes, then turn into the small foyer and take the two-person elevator up to the main level.

  Thankfully the elevator is quiet as it opens into a rarely used side hall. I glance both ways, then follow the hallway when I realize it leads to the library from the opposite direction. After a thorough search of the library, I lean against the desk, deflated. No laptop. Nor did I see a house phone anywhere during my exploration. Apparently, even in this turn of the century house, everyone uses a cell.

  Beth’s voice carries down the hall, and I instantly move over to the bookshelves to quickly grab a book, ready to pretend I’m choosing one to read. But when Beth asks Beatrice to prepare her a late breakfast, I put the book back. While she’s eating in the dining room, her room will be empty. If I move quickly, hopefully I’ll be able to access her computer and narrow down potential clinics before she gets back upstairs.

  “What are you doing in my room?” Beth says in a high-pitched voice the second she opens her door.

  “Shhh,” I quickly say to calm her down and mime for her to shut the door. Relieved I was able to send Calder an email with the attachment of the Celeste/Deceiver text, as well as message my parents, letting them know I’m staying in town for a while before she walked in, I say, “I’m sorry. I just needed your phone for a minute.”

  Growling her anger, she stalks over to where I’m seated at her desk and rips her phone from my hand. “Get out of my room or I’ll call the police myself.”

  If she had just been two minutes later, I would’ve had enough time to check out her boyfriend’s contact information too. Frustrated, I stand and face her. “I needed access to the internet. Marco and Anthony took Celeste’s laptop and other personal items in an attempt to find her.”

  Folding her arms, she tucks her phone against her body. “At least someone is trying.”

  I throw my hands out, annoyed. “What do you think I’ve been doing while you were down there stuffing your face? And now I need your help.”

  Beth shakes her head and walks over to rest her hand on the doorknob. “I told you to leave. Get out now or I’ll call Anthony to throw you out.”

  “Then you’ll lose out on a good chance to find Celeste,” I snap, fi
nally losing my patience. “I have an idea where your sister went yesterday. Do you want to help me look for her or not?”

  Beth releases the door handle, her voice dropping to a hushed tone. “You know where she is?”

  I shake my head. “No, but I think I know where to start.

  “Where?” Beth asks suspiciously, her gaze narrowing.

  I hold my hand out for her phone. “May I?”

  Huffing, she hands it to me. As I quickly pull up the search parameters, I say, “While you were getting dressed, I hopped on Celeste’s laptop to see if she’d made any recent internet searches that could tell us where she might’ve gone yesterday.” I turn the phone toward Beth and hold my breath.

  Beth glances at the clinics highlighted on the screen, then lifts her gaze to mine, anger stamped on her pretty face. “No! Celeste would’ve told me if she were pregnant…and she would never do something like this.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask quietly, sympathy tightening my chest. I understand the hurt shimmering in her eyes. My older sister Sophie didn’t tell me she was going to commit suicide to save our family from financial ruin either. People don’t always want to be stopped or talked out of it.

  “Yes!” Beth hisses, her expression adamant.

  I tilt my head and hold her gaze. “She didn’t tell you about me, did she?”

  When Beth clamps her mouth shut, I sigh. “Look, I can’t claim to know what was going on in your sister’s head, but the fact she needed me to stand in for her due to an appointment she couldn’t miss makes a lot more sense now. According to this search…” I pause and scroll through. “There are five places to check, but only three of them have Saturday morning hours, so we’ll need to get moving if we want to get there before they close. If we can learn where Celeste went, then maybe we can figure out where she might’ve gone next. Will you go with me to the clinics that are open so we can find out if she visited any of them?”

  “What? And smear my sister’s good name in the process?” She takes her phone and shakes her head. “I don’t think so!”

  “Then I’ll just have to do it by myself.” I turn away to walk out. “Beatrice can call me a cab.”

  Beth grabs my arm. “Oh, no you don’t. Celeste can’t be seen at a women’s clinic. The rumor mill would spin out of control. God, this makes me wonder what my sister was thinking when she asked you to step in. You have no idea how private she was.”

  I’m intimately familiar with keeping a private life private, but I shrug off her dig. “I learned a long time ago not to give a damn what people think about me, so if you want to manage your sister’s precious social image, then take me and you can help make our presence there as discrete as possible. Whatever we do, we need to do it soon. The clinics will close in four hours.”

  When Beth glances down at her phone, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, I touch her arm. “I know you feel like you can’t trust me, but I want Celeste to come home just as much as you do. I hope you’ll agree that finding your sister is far more important than protecting every aspect of her reputation right now.”

  She pulls away from me and straightens her shoulders. Grabbing a pair of sunglasses off her dresser, she hands them to me. “We’ll leave the back way so Marco and Anthony can’t follow us. Once we’re in the car, put the glasses on. My face isn’t as well known as Celeste’s, so I’ll scout the places out. Got it?”

  I take the glasses and nod, glad to be doing something to find Celeste.

  After striking out at the three clinics with morning hours, I convinced Beth to try the other two clinics to see if someone was there who could answer questions. As we approach the forth clinic and a police car’s red and blue siren lights are flashing outside, Beth hits the brakes. “Hell no!”

  I gesture to the side of the road. “Pull over here and we’ll wait.”

  “For what?” she asks as she pulls up to the curb. “The media to show up and talk about a potential bomb threat on a clinic?”

  Rolling my eyes behind the dark shades, I watch the uniform police officers standing outside the clinic talking to a woman with curly blonde hair. “We’ll wait until they leave. I’ll bet she’s a nurse or an office manager who can answer our questions. How’s the bribery fund?”

  “I’m down to my last fifty.” Beth grumbles as she cuts the engine. “Father is going to kill us.”

  Once the police officers get in their car, I push the glasses up on my head and frown at her. “You really need to stop being so afraid of your dad, Beth. He obviously cares about you.”

  “You just don’t get how he operates,” she mumbles as she watches the police car turn off its siren lights then drive away.

  I snort. “He operates from a position of intimidation. Don’t let him threaten you. Call him on it.”

  When respect reflects in Beth’s gaze, I hope she’s opening up to the idea I’m trustworthy. “Your dad said that Phillip found Celeste once before when she was fourteen. Do you know why she ran away?”

  Beth shrugs and glances out the window. “Actually, I don’t. We’d just gotten back from a week long beach trip and she took off right after dinner. My dad and Phillip went looking for her everywhere. The next day, Phillip drives up with her in the car.”

  A beach trip? “Was that in July?” I asked without thinking.

  She looks at me funny, a slight frown marring her features. “Yeah, how’d you know that?”

  “Isn’t July peak vacation time? Did she have a terrible time at the beach?”

  Beth slides her hand over the steering wheel. “It was weird. At first she was enjoying all the attention she was getting now that she had boobs. Scrappy didn’t like it at all. He even went after a seventeen-year-old who offered to put lotion on her back, not caring that at the time he was half his size.” She chuckles at the memory. “Phillip had to pull his crazed son off the guy and apologize to his parents.”

  “Is that why you call Jake Scrappy?”

  “Yep, that’s where the nickname came from,” she says with a laugh, then sobers. “The rest of the week Celeste wore a cover-up to the beach. I was shocked. It’s not like Father ordered her to. She just did it.”

  I really hate how Beth bows to her father. “You should stand up to your father, Beth. He might come across angry, but I believe he’ll respect you more for it.”

  “He’s my father. I know him far better than you.”

  I shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Beth sighs, then tilts her head, staring at my face. “I can see slight differences now: the slant of your eyes and the arch of your eyebrows. Your smile is more genuine too.”

  Her last comment surprises me and I take a moment to really look at Beth. “You know you have nice bone structure. The models I work with would kill for your cheekbones and jawline.”

  A slight smile crooks her lips. “What do you do that you work with models?”

  “When I’m not pretending to be my doppelganger I’m a fashion photographer.”

  Beth’s eyes widen. “What an interesting profession.”

  I grin. “The best part is that I get to be my own boss.”

  Beth presses her lips together and glances out the window. “I need to go before the lady locks up and leaves.”

  Wondering why she had a sudden change of attitude, I pull the sunglasses back down and open my car door. Beth reaches for my arm. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to stay in the car.”

  I easily evade her hand and slip out of the vehicle. “There aren’t any patients there to see me. We’ll be fine.”

  Beth sniffs her annoyance as she steps into place beside me at the clinic’s door. As the rosy-cheeked woman in her mid-thirties approaches behind the glass door, a look of surprise on her face, Beth mutters, “It would be nice to be my own boss.”

  “It has its benefits,” I say, then push the sunglasses up on my head so the woman can see my face. Pointing to the locked door, I nod, asking her for permission to enter.

  “
I’m sorry but we’re closed today,” she says the moment she unlocks the door and swings it open. “I’m only here because the alarm went off.” Waving her hand, she hurries on. “Are you here to make another appointment, Miss Carver?”

  Beth and I exchange glances and I ask, “Can we come inside for a minute?”

  While the lady flips on several lights as we walk through the empty waiting room and back to her office, I whisper to Beth. “Just follow my lead. If she thinks I’m Celeste, we’ll get access to her medical records.”

  Beth is biting hard on her bottom lip. She’s stressed and worried for Celeste, so I squeeze her arm to get her to calm down. Nodding, she edges a bit closer to me.

  Once we’re seated in the chairs across from Nancy Westin, R.N.’s desk—at least that’s what the desk nameplate says—I ask, “Is everything all right? I saw the police drive away.”

  Nancy waves. “Please don’t worry, Miss Carver. There were no threats to the clinic. Our main computer was damaged and some filing cabinets and desks were broken into, but thankfully we don’t keep money here.” She turns on her computer and hits a few keys. “Fortunately the appointment calendar works just fine.” Sliding her finger down the screen, she nods and smiles. “It appears you’re in luck. We had a cancellation yesterday afternoon for next Thursday. It’s also the last appointment of the day.” Lifting her gaze to mine, she continues, “Would you be able to make that?”

  Beth instantly straightens in her chair, her nostrils flaring. Clearing my throat, I say, “In light of this recent break-in and your database issue, I would like to request a copy of my records.”

  Nancy lifts her chin slightly. “Your information is perfectly safe. We have an off-site backup system.”

  “I understand that, but—”

  “Do you plan to switch clinics?” she interrupts, her voice pitching slightly.

  I fold my hands in my lap, adopting a calm demeanor. “I’m reserving the right, but no I haven’t made that decision yet.”

 

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