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Lena sounded pleased to hear from her. Lazy Saturday afternoon drinks down by the river last weekend had a lot to answer for.

‘You’d better make it Director Farringdon, Lena. This isn’t a social call. I’m looking for Jared.’

‘He took the boat out storm-chasing,’ Lena offered, a whole lot more carefully. ‘He does that.’

‘Are you prepared to swear to that in court?’

Silence.

‘If I send the coastguards out looking for him are they going to find him?’

More silence.

‘Is there any chance at all that he can put in an appearance down here before tomorrow morning?’

‘How about I get him to call you?’ said Lena.

And Rowan felt her heart break, just a little bit, because any faint hope she’d had that Jared wasn’t involved in this was rapidly dwindling.

‘That’s really not going to be good enough.’

‘I’m sure he’ll do his best.’

‘Thanks.’ Rowan hung up.

She was pretty sure he’d already done it.

Three days later there were still no bodies and Jared still hadn’t called. On the fourth day the authorities advised that two bodies had been found. One as yet unidentified male and Celik Antonov.

For the first time in her career Rowan stopped all calls, sat back in her fancy leather chair and tried to remember how to breathe.

Sam stood in the doorway, her expression uncertain. ‘Director, shall I send Jared West’s identification details to the Dutch authorities?’

‘No.’ It was barely a croak. ‘Let them do the work. We flag nothing. We have no knowledge of this. And, Sam? Cancel my appointments for the afternoon. I think I’m just going to go … home.’

She felt a sting in her eyes as Sam nodded and shut the door behind her. She wouldn’t let tears fall here, in this place. It wasn’t professional.

Think, Rowan. Think about this. Nothing was certain … even the child’s supposed death.

Theory one: the Dutch authorities had spirited Celik Antonov away somewhere and were misleading them all. Oh, she liked that theory.

Theory two: young Celik had indeed lost his life, but the unidentified body was not Jared’s. Rowan hated this theory, but it was better than the third.

Theory three: Jared was dead. Celik—dead. And a wrong call by her—back when Jared had wanted to go check on the boy—had contributed to their downfall.

If that was indeed Jared lying there in a body bag.

If it was.

So Jared had gone to see the boy—what then? What had gone wrong?’

Rowan wrapped her arms tightly around her middle and tried not to rock back and forth. She couldn’t be this bereft. It wasn’t possible. How could she have fallen so hard and so fast for Jared West when she’d only had the tiniest taste of him? A handful of stolen nights and a couple of meals—that was all. Intense when they were together, but it wasn’t as if they’d been sharing each other’s lives for a dozen years or more.

She hadn’t been witness to his life for very long at all.

She couldn’t be in love with him. She just couldn’t.

Trembling, she picked up the phone and dialled a number that she’d memorised days ago. ‘Lena?’

‘Rowan?’ She sounded uncertain. ‘I mean, Director …’

‘Yes. They’re saying that Celik Antonov is dead and that an unidentified male died with him. They’re saying they have the bodies.’ Rowan barely recognised the sound of her own voice. ‘Tell me that you know where Jared is. Tell me you’ve spoken to him.’

‘I’ve spoken to him,’ Lena said instantly.

Rowan choked on a moan.

‘Rowan? Director Farringdon? Do you hear me? I spoke to Jared not two hours ago. Whoever they have in that body bag, it’s not my brother. I know this.’

Rowan couldn’t speak. Her eyes were on fire and her throat kept trying to close. She couldn’t breathe.

‘Rowan, talk to me.’

‘No one’s—no one can find him.’

‘He does that. I couldn’t find him once for almost two years. I’m going to kill him. I told him to contact you. I told him.’

‘No—it’s—’ She tried to pull herself together and couldn’t.

‘Director—?’

‘I’ll let you go.’ A feeble end to a misguided phone call. ‘I have another call coming in.’

Liar.

Desolation warred with relief as Rowan put the phone gently back in its cradle and then put her head in both hands and dug her fingers into her scalp until it hurt. Lena said she’d spoken to Jared, and Rowan believed her. He was alive.

He just hadn’t seen fit to return her calls.

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