Between us, Willow said with a laugh, "Hey, I know. Knock knock."
Cami said, "Who's there?"
"Orange."
"Orange who?"
Willow giggled. "Orange you glad that wasn't my house?"
I wasn't glad. I was worried. And obviously so was Cami. With a strained smile, she asked, "Are you glad?"
Willow nodded. "Oh yeah. You're more way more fun than Veronica." Willow looked to me and added with a grin. "You are, too."
For her sake, I smiled back. "Thanks. You're pretty fun yourself."
"I know." And with that, she continued skipping along, oblivious to the growing tension that Cami and I were both trying to hide.
This wasn't going well.
By now, I wasn't even sure who to blame – Veronica for losing track of a seven-year-old, me for not calling the police right away, or Cami for suggesting that we simply walk Willow home.
Probably we were all idiots, because by now, it was painfully obvious that Willow was a lot more lost than we'd first realized.
Either that, or she was stalling for some other reason.
Regardless, I was coming to the sad realization that we'd probably end up calling the police anyway. After all, a kid that young who'd wandered half a mile on her own was no laughing matter.
I was just bracing myself to make the call when Cami said, "Hang on a minute, okay?" When we all stopped, Cami crouched down to Willow's level and said, "Are you sure you don't know your phone number?'
Willow snickered. "I don't have a phone, Silly."
With an encouraging smile, Cami said, "But what about your mom? She has a phone, right?"
Willow's laughter faded. "I don't have a mom."
Ouch.
Cami's eyes filled with sympathy. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweet pea." She tried for yet another smile. "How about your dad?"
Looking almost disgruntled now, Willow said, "He's busy."
I felt my jaw clench. He wasn't just busy. He was neglectful. That much was obvious by the fact that his daughter was roaming around unprotected while he was off doing who-knows-what.
Following Cami's lead, I crouched down toward Willow and said, "Do you know his phone number?"
With a shrug, Willow replied, "Nope."
I studied her face. I was no expert on seven-year-olds, but I had the distinct impression she wasn't being completely honest.
I tried another approach. "But surely, you know his name, right?"
"Maybe."
"So…what is it?" I already had a last name, Taylor. But when I'd looked on the Web before setting out, I'd found no Taylors living nearby.
Still, if I had a first name, I could do another internet search on my phone, maybe see if we were heading in the right direction.
Willow grinned. "Guess."
"Guess what?" I asked.
"His name."
I didn't feel like guessing. But hey, at least I knew part of his name already. Trying to be crafty, I said, "If I guess his last name, will you tell me his first name?"
Willow gave it some thought. "I guess so."
"Alright. Is his last name…" I pretended to think. "Taylor?"
She laughed. "No. That's my name."
Crap.
But of course, I should've realized there was no guarantee that she and her dad would have the same last name. Still, my sense of unease was growing.
Working hard to keep calm, I said, "Alright, I give up. Why don't you just tell us?"
Willow was frowning again. "But you only guessed once."
When I looked to Cami, she said to Willow, "If you tell me your dad's name, I'll tell you my dad's name. And it's a funny one, too."
Willow perked up. "Really?"
"Oh yeah," Cami said. "But you tell us first. What's your dad's name?"
Willow replied, "Mason."
I froze. Oh, no. It couldn’t be that Mason. Could it? Cami and I exchanged another long, worried look. Finally, it was Cami who asked the question I'd been dreading. "And what's his last name?"
And that's when Willow said it. "Blastoviak."
Shit.
I felt the blood drain from my face – and not only because I knew that name all too well. It was because just then, a big black sedan screeched to stop on the street beside us.
I recognized that sedan, just like I recognized the driver, who'd already bolted from the car. He slammed the driver's side door behind him and moved toward us with long, angry strides.
From the look on his face, he was about to accuse us of stealing his kid, which posed an unsettling question.
Had we?
Chapter 58
Arden
In stunned silence, Cami and I watched from the sidewalk as Mason – with a surprising degree of gentleness – escorted Willow straight to his car and got her settled in the back seat.
And then, after shutting the car door behind her, he strode back to where we stood. With murder in his eye, he demanded in a low voice, "What the hell were you doing?"
I resisted the urge to cringe in the face of his quiet wrath. "We were walking her home." My chin lifted as I considered who was truly at fault here. "And as long as we're all asking, what the hell were you doing?"
He glared down at me. "So you're gonna walk ten fucking miles? With a seven-year-old? That's what you want me to believe?"
I blinked. "Ten miles? Really?"
Well, that explained why we'd never found the house.
"Cut the crap," he said. "What do you want?"
Wasn't it obvious? "I wanted to take her home."
"Oh yeah?" he said. "And where the hell is that?"
Oh, for God's sake. "In case it wasn't clear," I said, "I meant her home, not mine." This should've been obvious. I mean for one thing, I didn't even have a home.
But apparently, Mason was too angry to think straight. With a low scoff, he said, "Is that so?"
I made a sound of frustration. "And I didn't know it was ten miles, okay?"
He gave me a hard look. "So what's your angle?"
"I don't have an angle," I said. "I already told you, I was trying to get her home."
"Nice story," he said. "So tell me. How the hell did you get her?"
Get her?
Okay, that made no sense whatsoever. I shook my head. "What?"
Speaking very clearly now, he repeated the gist of his question. "How did you get her?"
"I didn't 'get' her," I said. "She got me."
His jaw clenched. "Was Brody in on it?"
I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. "In on what?"
"You tell me."
"I can't tell you," I said, "because I have no idea what you mean."
We were still arguing back and forth when Cami – facing Mason, not me – nudged her way between us. With a strained smile in her voice, she told him, "You need to stop, okay?"
Mason was tall – a lot taller than me and Cami, which meant that I could see his face all too clearly when he replied, "And who are you?"
With that same smile in her voice, she said, "I'm the one who's going slap you silly if you don't calm down."
From the look on his face, her words felt like a slap, even if she hadn't actually done it. In a tight voice, he replied, "What?'"
Cami craned her neck to stare at him. "The question isn't what," she said. "It's why. As in why you need to calm down." In a near whisper, she continued. "And the answer to that is, 'Because you're scaring your daughter.'"
Slowly, Mason turned to look.
So did I.
Sure enough, inside the car, Willow's face was pressed tight against the glass of the side window. She was staring at all of us with obvious concern.
I dug deep and summoned up what I hoped was a smile. I gave her a friendly wave, as if to say, "Everything's fine, really."
From the look on her face, she wasn't buying it.
Smart kid.
Still, I kept the smile plastered in place until finally, she waved back, looking sick to her stomach.
&nb
sp; By now, I wasn't the only one waving. Mason gave her a single stiff wave while Cami put a lot more effort into it, giving Willow a big, friendly wave and a thumbs-up.
Cami was still waving at Willow when Mason turned back to face me. In a dangerously low voice, he said, "I'll deal with you later."
Yikes.
If that wasn't a threat, I didn't know what was.
But soon, he was gone, leaving me wondering, What on Earth had just happened?
Chapter 59
Brody
Chase and I made a deal. I'd tell Mason while he dealt with the nanny. Bracing myself, I called Mason's cell phone.
Sounding more pissed off than usual, he answered with a terse, "What?"
He was obviously in a shitty mood. But hey, what else was new?
Whether he realized it or not, his mood was about to take a serious turn, and not for the better.
I got straight to the point. "Listen, I've got some bad news."
"I bet."
I didn't know what he meant, but I'd called for a reason, and I wasn't about to be sidetracked. "Before I tell you," I continued, "I want you to know, we're already working on it, alright?"
With a humorless laugh, he said, "Funny. Me, too."
I wasn't following. "What?"
"And here's my news," he said. "Your girlfriend – she's gotta go."
I frowned. "Who do you mean?"
"Cut the crap," he said. "I know you're fucking her. And before you ask, yeah, I mean Arden Weathers."
I didn't like the way he said that or the realization that I hadn't been as discreet as I'd thought. And if we weren't facing a family emergency, I might've taken the time to inform him that Arden and I weren't a thing. Not anymore.
But I didn't have that kind of time, so I ignored the now-familiar ache in my gut and said, "Forget that. Listen, Willow's missing."
With a scoff, he replied, "Nice try, asshole."
What the hell? "I'm not kidding."
"I don't know what you're playing at," he said, "but that chick's messing with your head."
I felt my eyebrows furrow. "What?"
"So I'll say it again." His voice hardened. "She's got to go. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Today."
"Hey, asshole," I said. "Aren't you fucking listening? I just told you, Willow's missing."
"Are you at the office?"
"No. I’m at your place."
"Good," he said. "I'll be there in ten minutes." He paused. "With Willow."
"Wait, what?"
"I've got her." And with that, he ended the call.
Confused as hell, I shoved my new cell phone back into my pocket and looked to Chase. "He's on his way."
Next to Chase, Veronica was still crying. Through choked sobs, she said, "She must've been kidnapped. That's the only thing that makes sense."
I gave Veronica a long, irritated look. She was a leggy brunette with a hard mouth and roaming eyes. I didn't like her. Or maybe I was pissed off because she'd failed at the one thing she'd been hired to do – and it wasn't to look pretty.
Alright, so Willow was safe. She was with Mason, not missing.
That didn't the change the fact that Veronica had fallen down on the job.
She was still crying. Or pretending to cry. Hell if I knew.
Either way, the question was the same. How could she not know where Willow was?
It was seven-thirty in the morning, for Christ's sake.
I shoved a hand through my hair and tried to think. Maybe Mason had taken Willow out for breakfast while Veronica was still asleep? Was that why Veronica thought she was missing?
No. Mason might be a dick, but he ran a smooth household – too smooth in my opinion.
But he had a real soft spot for Willow. He'd been a decent dad, too. And I knew damn well he'd never take Willow anywhere and forget to tell the damn nanny.
He was too buttoned-up for that.
A few feet away, Chase was saying to Veronica, "Tell us again. When's the last time you saw her?"
Already, we had dozens of employees walking the neighborhood, looking for a lost little girl. Turns out, she wasn't lost.
But something was going on. And I didn't want to discuss it, not in front of Veronica. She wasn't family. And for all I knew, she'd put Willow at risk. Or hell, maybe she'd staged a fake kidnapping, looking to cash in on the family fortune.
A crazy theory?
Maybe. But with the kind of money we had these days, anything was possible.
Veronica was still blubbering when I pulled Chase aside and told him in a low voice. "Mason's got her."
His surprise was obvious. "No shit?"
I shrugged. "That's what he said."
"Huh." Chase frowned. "Weird."
In unison, we both looked to Veronica. She was standing on the opposite side of the room, sobbing alone by the side window.
Maybe I should've felt bad.
But I didn't.
And neither did Mason when he arrived ten minutes later – with Willow, just like he'd said.
Thank God.
I gave Willow a quick once-over. She looked fine, happy even.
But not Mason. He looked royally ticked.
At the sight of Willow, Veronica squealed, "Oh, my God. There you are!" She threw open her arms wide and called out, "Oh, sweetie! Come here."
Willow didn't budge.
Neither did anyone else.
Mason looked down to Willow and said, "Go up to your room. You're still going to summer school."
Willow frowned. "But I'll be late."
With a tight smile, Mason replied, "Then you'd better hurry." After Willow left, Mason turned his attention to Veronica. He wasn't smiling anymore. "Pack your shit," he said. "You're fuckin' fired."
Veronica shook her head. "But why?"
I spoke up. "Because, dumb-ass, you lost the kid."
Veronica turned pleading eyes on Chase. "Don't you have something to say?"
Oh, for fuck's sake. I could guess what this meant. Chase was screwing the damn nanny.
Again.
In reply to her question, Chase told her, "Yeah. Pack your shit, like Mason said."
Her mouth fell open. "My shit?" she sputtered. "I'll have you know, I have nice stuff." She turned accusing eyes on Mason. "That's why you hired me, wasn't it? To be a good role model?"
I knew what she was getting at. Veronica might be hard as nails, but she looked all prim and proper in her form-fitting skirt and nice, white blouse. She'd been on the job for only three months, and she wouldn't be missed.
Mason gave her a cold look. "Role model, my ass."
"But—"
"You were hired to look after Willow. You failed." He glanced at his watch. "A driver's on the way."
"A driver?" she said. "What kind of driver?"
"The kind that'll take your ass out of here."
"To where?"
"Don't know, don't care," Mason said. "And if you want a severance, you'll be out by nine o'clock."
She perked up. "A severance?"
"That's what I said." Again, Mason glanced at his watch. "You've got eighty minutes. And just so we're clear, if it takes you eight-one, you get nothing."
"But–"
"So if I were you," Mason said, "I'd get your ass in gear."
He didn't need to tell her twice. Even in high heels, she was sprinting for the stairs.
When she disappeared from sight, Mason turned away, heading toward his study.
And me – I strode after him. Because this conversation wasn't over.
Chapter 60
Arden
As Cami and I walked back to the crew house, I felt lower than I had in a long time. And considering how low I'd been feeling lately, that was truly saying something.
I gave Cami a sideways glance. Normally, she was the most upbeat person I'd ever met. But now, she trudged along beside me looking nearly as depressed as I felt.
With an apologetic smile, I said, "I bet I know what you're thinking."
>
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
I forced a laugh. "Worst vacation, ever."
She shook her head. "Nah. It wasn't so bad."
"Oh come on, Cam. We both know that's not true. Listen, I know I've said it already, but I really am sorry."
"Oh, stop it," she said with a weak laugh. "I meant what I said. I actually had a pretty good time."
Funny, she sounded like she actually meant it. And yet, I was finding her words a little hard to believe. "But you couldn’t have," I protested. "Not really."
"Why not?" she said. "You and I got to hang out. And I finally got to see the house. I've been wanting to see it forever, you know."
She had said as much. And, with the help of my own key, I'd been thrilled to give her the grand tour – minus the attic, of course.
I'd gotten the key from Brody not too long after he'd changed the locks. Would he be wanting the key back, now that we weren't together?
Probably.
Like everything else today, the thought wasn't a cheery one.
Next to me, Cami was saying, "And we went to the beach nearly every day. That sounds like a vacation to me."
She was being way too generous. It was true that we'd spent lots of time at the beach. But mostly this involved walking along the shoreline while I whined about Brody.
But today, the topic of Brody was firmly off-limits. I'd made that promise – if only to myself – and I fully intended to keep it.
I said, "Well, it was no spa vacation, that's for sure."
"Forget the spa," she said. "I already told you, that's not why I came."
I believed her. Really, I did. And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was truly bothering her.
Hesitantly, I said, "Is anything else on your mind?"
"Eh, nothing big."
I stopped walking. "Wait. So something is wrong? What is it?"
She stopped walking, too. "Don't worry. It's nothing important."
I studied her face. Oh yeah. She was definitely hiding something. "Then tell me," I urged. "What's wrong?"
"Alright. The thing is…" Her shoulders slumped. "I sort of lost my job."
My stomach sank. "What?" In the back of my mind, I had visions of Cami getting fired for taking the week off to spend time listening to me complain. "Oh, my God. I didn’t realize you had a job."
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