by Linda Barlow
“Nope. As you see, I’m alive.”
“I got arrested for your murder.”
Regret passed over her features briefly. “I’m sorry about that. But they let you go, right? They didn’t actually accuse you of a crime? It’s all in the past now, surely?”
All in the past? Somewhere deep inside me, anger was beginning to grow. I thought of all the months of hassle, of worry, of grief. The nasty way people had treated me. The weight of my own guilt over not being able to keep her safe.
“It’s not that simple. Everybody still thinks I killed you and buried your body in the woods. That hasn’t exactly endeared me to the community.” I took a deep breath. “Where the fuck are you? Are you OK? Why did you just vanish without a word?”
“I can’t tell you that. I can’t keep talking to you, either. I’ve cut all ties. You wanted proof of life, right? Well, here it is—see? I’m fine. But I’m not coming back.”
Some of Rory’s skepticism must have rubbed off on me. “How do I know this isn’t just some clever tech that was recorded months ago? And now they’ve got it working so it looks like I’m actually talking to you?”
Hadley smiled. Damn. I remembered that smile—how it used to warm me all through. Now, for some reason, it left me cold.
“You’re actually talking to me, dude. This is real, if kinda weird. Who’s that girl behind you? Someone new? I hope you’re happy, Griff. Really.”
“Ask her the date,” Rory said quietly.
I did. Hadley raised an eyebrow but answered correctly. I thought of her phrase, proof of life. “Are you a prisoner? Is someone holding you against your will?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m fine. I’m where I want to be. That’s all I can say, except that I’m sorry, Griff.”
“Hadley, for fuck’s sake, what to you mean, you’re where you want to be? I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, but there’s gotta be a way out of it. Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you, babe.”
“No. Listen. You’ve got to let this go, OK? I’m living a different life now. You need to forget you ever knew me.”
“It’s not that easy. A lot of shit went down when you disappeared. Besides, you can't just abandon your whole life, your family, your friends…it doesn't even make sense, Hadley.”
“I know, but I can't explain.” Her voice was calm, her expression unyielding. “That’s just the way it is.”
I had a million questions, but Connor elbowed me.
“Enough. I said, keep it short. Say goodbye.”
Hadley must have heard this because she flipped me a little wave of her fingers. “Bye, Griff. Be happy,” she said, just before Connor pulled the plug and the screen went dark.
“What the fuck?” I growled at him. “I haven't spoken to her for months and—”
“You’ve heard of NSA surveillance, right? Not to mention various other snoops? That was a secure as I could make it, but do you think she’d thank you if it revealed her location?”
“How did you set it up? Who the hell are you, anyway? Who do you work for?”
“Cut me some slack, dude. Do you have any clue how far out on a limb I’ve climbed for you? She’s alive, she’s gone, and she’s not coming back. No one’s gonna charge you with murder. That’s all you need to know. It’s far more than you ought to know, so keep your fucking mouth shut. And keep hers shut, too. Your new girlfriend. If she hasn’t decided to dump your ass.”
I wheeled around, remembering Rory. She was no longer there. Where was she? I hadn’t heard her go.
Connor looked at me with scorn in his eyes. “She took off right around the time you asked Hadley to tell you where she was so you could go get her.”
I jumped off the sofa and looked round the place for Rory. Her stuff was still here, but she must have gone outside. Holy fuck. Couldn’t any of these women ever stay put?
Chapter 31
Rory
I’d ducked out because I’d had to.
Seeing Hadley, actually seeing her face on the screen, alive, talking, looking gorgeous—had pushed me over the edge. I needed a few minutes to gather myself, so I took a walk around the block.
She wasn’t supposed to be alive. Even when Silas Marks had suggested she might not have died a year ago, I’d been dubious. From day one when I’d started this, I’d believed her in the ground. So had everyone else who’d looked into the case. She’d been seen as “missing and presumed dead” almost from the start.
I’d been all cocky about my ability to hack into anything. Conduct an investigation. Prove that the guy I’d fallen so hard for was no murderer. Prove that his old girlfriend, whom he was still hung up on, must have been killed by somebody else.
But still alive? And, worse, still alive and needing to be rescued? Oh man, I’d never once considered that.
She was beautiful. I’d seen plenty of beautiful women, starting with my own mother and sister. Hadley’s looks might not be conventional—not everybody went for redheads—but her features were flawless, even without makeup. She hadn’t been wearing makeup and my impression was that she’d been almost as surprised by the call as we’d been.
I still couldn’t make sense of it. Whatever we’d stumbled into, it was far more layered and complicated than I’d expected.
Her story still made no sense to me. The only thing I could figure was that she was in Witness Protection and they’d let us talk to her because all my investigating had put her safety at risk.
I wasn’t sure about the whole Istanbul airport thing, or if she was in or out of this country.
But I also found that I didn’t care anymore. The bitch had been alive all this time and she’d never let Griff know. Whatever her excuse was, that sucked.
I honestly had no idea what Griff was going to do now. The way he had spoken to her—so familiar, so intimate—had just about destroyed me. And it had driven home everything that I’d been denying: I wanted Griff all to myself. I’d fallen for him. Hard. I’d wanted to clear his name, not to push him back into the arms of his old honey.
What a fool I’d been!
Outside it was cloudy, and thunder was lowering in the distance. It looked like rain. The heaviness in the air echoed the heaviness in my heart. “Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you, babe.”
I’d read some place that in love there was always one person who loved more than the other. One person who wanted more. Needed more. Griff knew Hadley was bad for him, but he’d been wrapped up in her anyway. She’d cheated on him. He’d claimed they’d had an open relationship, but he’d never once mentioned anything about dating other girls while she was running off to have dangerous kinky sex with other men.
In our case, maybe it was me who needed more. Wanted more. Loved more. I hadn’t thought that until today. I’d thought from the way he’d treated me, the way he’d loved me, that Griff and I were equal in our yearnings for each other.
As the week had gone on and we’d spent all our time together, it was as if we’d fused. There had been so many occasions when he’d told me to shut up about Hadley. He was sick of hearing about her.
Why hadn’t I listened?
I’d walked down to the end of his street and turned out onto the broader road that fed into it, walking along the sidewalk, occasionally kicking at a stone or a twig, not really noticing my surroundings because I was too miserable. But I became aware of a car driving beside me.
When it slowed to a crawl instead of passing, I snapped out of my self-absorbed misery.
I checked it out. Black town car. Some upscale model. Tinted windows. I realized it was the same car that had been in the driveway.
Great.
I stopped. The car pulled over to the curb. The driver’s window slid down. “Get in,” said a voice I recognized.
It was Silas Marks, the billionaire. He was driving. How odd. I’d have thought someone as rich as Marks would have his own personal driver.
“Get in? Why? So I can disappear like Hadley did?”
“Just get into the damn car,” Marks said.
“Don’t you have better things to do than follow me? Are you a stalker as well as a sadist?”
“I saw you leave the house. I’ve got a proposition for you.”
I glared.
“Not that kind of proposition,” he said, with what might have passed for a grin in a more genial man.
I stood there, staring at him, still trying to work it all out. So he’d been there all along, at Griff’s house, in his car? He must have come with Connor. Maybe he’d even been listening in? Probably. That call with Hadley had probably happened at his direction.
“How’d you find her? Or did you always know where she was?”
“Get in and I’ll tell you.”
Curse my infernal curiosity. I went around to the passenger’s side, making sure the phone in my pocket was turned on and that I could dial 911 easily. He opened the door for me. I climbed into the luxury car. “So you were outside the house?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want to make your boyfriend jumpy by coming in.”
“Good move. He might have hit you again.”
“His temper is one of the reasons why the cops suspected him. Well, that and his record of arrests as a juvenile. You trust him not to harm you?”
“What the fuck business is that of yours?”
“If you’re going to do BDSM, you need to establish trust.”
“Save the lectures for your club.”
Lightning jagged the sky, briefly illuminating his features. Silas Marks was hot. Too bad he was also pond scum.
“So? Was Hadley’s disappearance all your doing or not?”
“Of course not. Like everyone else, I thought O’Malley had murdered her. He had a motive—she was unfaithful.”
“They weren't exclusive.”
“Sexual jealousy can be a powerful thing. Until this week I figured she was dead and we’d never see her again. Then you come along and start poking into a cold case. Championing the guy we all thought was the killer. Made me wonder how you could be so sure.” He paused. “The suggestion you gave Connor about airport and railroad surveillance was a good one. I have resources, contacts. And if O’Malley was ruled out, I had some ideas of my own.”
“Such as?”
He shrugged. “You’ve had all you’re gonna get, I’m afraid. The girl was not pleased to be tracked down. She made her choice a whole year ago. I think we have to respect it.”
“Fine with me,” I muttered. One contact with Hadley Allison was enough for me. Too bad Griff didn’t feel the same.
“I know who you are,” Silas Marks said.
“Yeah, I figured that out last night when you used my former name. I changed it legally, you know.”
“Have you told O’Malley yet?”
Instead of answering, I asked, “What the hell do you want from me?”
“You interest me. You’re smart and you use your initiative. Going to the mat for the one guy in town everybody hates takes guts. I’m thinking of offering you a job.”
I burst out laughing. In a day filled with surprises, this was perhaps the wildest yet.
“I’m serious.”
“I’m still in school.”
“You’re graduating. If you’re trying to decide between grad school and working. I recommend you work for a couple a years. You can always do a Ph.D. program later.”
The throbbing in my head escalated. Finlay had obviously scraped up every trace of information available on me and turned it over to Silas Fucking Marks.
“Do you typically offer jobs to people who hate your guts?”
“How you feel about me personally is irrelevant.” He was lounging back in his comfortable seat and gazing at me through half closed eyes. “I’m always on the lookout for the brightest of the bright.”
“To do what?”
“To work with other smart people like yourself. Using your considerable talents to do some good in the world. More details would require an NDA.”
“Doing good in the world? That’s some line, coming from a self-proclaimed expert in erotic asphyxiation. Hadley might be alive, but how many girls have you killed and buried under the mansion, Marks?”
He ignored that. “Your final semester expenses, whatever they are, will be paid by my firm. Your college loans will also be repaid by me as soon as you start work. Your salary for your first year will be...” He named a figure that would have made me gasp if I hadn't controlled my breathing.
“I’m not for sale,” I managed. Was this how he employed people? Even given how I felt about him, a tiny part of me was flattered. Of course he’d checked me out. He probably knew as much about me now as I knew about Griff. It would actually be cool to work for an employer who valued brains and initiative. But he was an arrogant prick. He probably expected his workers to wear his collar and call him Master.
I was thinking fast. “I don’t want to work for you. But maybe it’s a good thing you picked me up, because I’ve got a proposition for you.”
Now he looked amused.
“Two weeks from now is the anniversary of Hadley’s disappearance. That means the press will be sniffing around Griff again. That town cop said the investigation is confidential. That they’re not releasing what they know. But she’s alive, and I want him cleared.”
“He will be. It just might take some time.”
“I want an announcement from the local police, the FBI, the DA, and whoever else was involved in the case that it’s over. Tell them whatever you want about Hadley. I don’t care. But exonerate Griff. Completely. Not in some half assed, well, we-just-don’t-have-enough-evidence way. Make it clear he didn’t kill her. That she’s not even dead. You have enough influence to orchestrate that, I have no doubt.”
“Why should I?” Marks asked in a dangerous voice.
“Because if you don’t, I’ll spill the whole fucking story to my contacts in the press. Your involvement. Finlay’s. The whole thing. Along with the pictures I took inside the Reef Hill Club. I’m sure the tabloids will be very interested in those.”
‘You didn’t get any pictures.” Marks sounded dead sure of that.
He was right, too. I’d tried, but my phone had been wiped clean when I’d come out of there. I’d been impressed with that.
“Please,” I said with a certain bravado. “Your security is tight, but I doubt you’d have offered me a job if you didn’t suspect I could beat it. I did get us an invite, after all.”
There was silence. At length he said, “So. I offer you a job any other nerd your age would drool over and you turn around and try to blackmail me. What’s to stop me from burying you in the same grave with the other women you think I strangled?”
Yeah, good point. I tried not to let my fear show. Maybe I’d pushed it too far. I couldn’t read these guys—not Connor Finlay, the ex black ops interrogator and certainly not Silas Marks, the billionaire sadist.
I wanted Griff.
“Tell you what,” Marks said after what seemed like an interminable pause. “You go back to school, finish whatever is unfinished, and graduate. Meanwhile I’m going to email you some stuff I’m working on that I think might interest you. Puzzles that need solving. Do them, if you can, and send your solutions back to me. If you can’t do them, fine. I’ll be a bit disappointed in you, but that’s a cross I have to bear daily in my dealings with the people around me who don’t measure up.”
I think my mouth may have dropped open. What a dick!
But he’d set the hook cleverly. I wanted to see his damn puzzles—of course I did. And he knew it.
“You already offered me a job. Now I need to prove myself? Doing things backwards, Mr. Marks?”
“Do the tests
and I’ll see that you get what you want vis a vis O’Malley. I can’t say what the authorities will be willing to release about Hadley. I don’t have any control over that. But I’m pretty sure Connor can get his brother to exonerate Griff now that the local police know she wasn’t murdered.”
“So Connor Finlay works for you, right?”
“As a contractor. He has his own company.” He glanced over at me and grinned. “He’s smart, but he couldn’t solve all my puzzles. Hell, I’m not even sure I could solve them myself if I didn’t already know the answers.”
My eyes must have narrowed. Was I crazy or was he actually starting to seem a tiny bit human? Had he just made a self-deprecating joke?
As if he read my mind, Marks said, “I’m not the bad guy, Rory.”
“Then who is the bad guy?”
“There’s no simple answer to that question.”
Silence fell. I couldn’t think of anything more to say.
“You want a ride back to the house?”
I shook my head. Rain was gently striking the roof of the car now, but I’d had enough of this. It was too intense. He was too intense. Griff still wanted Hadley. I needed to think.
“Let me out. I want to finish my walk.”
“You’ll get wet.”
“I won’t melt.”
“Do we have a deal? You do the puzzles, keep your mouth shut, and I get your boyfriend off the hook with the cops and the press?”
I nodded. “Yeah. We have a deal.”
The car door open and I jumped out into the rain.
Chapter 32
Griff
Connor Finlay was still hassling me. Lecturing me. And refusing to answer my questions. No, he claimed, he didn’t know where Hadley was. Or who she was with, if anybody. She’d agree to speak to me on the condition that none of us would ever try to contact her again.
“Look, I'm sure this is hard,” he said, “but you're not the only one affected. Hadley has a father. A family. A lot of good friends. I know you got fucked over in the newspapers for being a suspect, but it's not about you anymore. You weren't even that serious with her, right? She had other lovers. You've got to let this go, man.”
