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I hurried up the stairs and down the halls until I got to Beck’s room, and let myself in without knocking.
He was already awake and pacing.
“Dude, where’ve you been? I’ve been waiting for you since I got home at four.”
“When have you ever waited for me?” I asked, settling against the door so I would be sure to hear anyone coming down the hall.
Beck lifted his arms out to his sides then dropped them. “Uh, since I got the call I did last night.” He laughed agitatedly when I only stared at him. “You need to remember to be human when you’re working. You’re kind of a robotic asshole.”
I huffed, and he let out an exaggerated breath.
“Jesus fuck, I’ve wanted to say that for years.”
“Noted.”
“You literally said, ‘Conor’s fine. Jessica’s being held by Mickey at the guesthouse. Don’t go after him,’ and hung up.” Beck stared at me, wide-eyed. “I mean, fuck, man.”
I resisted the urge to shrug and remind him I’d given him all the details he needed. “Are you done?”
Beck rolled his eyes and plopped on the bed.
“There’s a guy. Conor saw him dragging Jessica in, and she said he’s been stalking her for weeks for Mickey. He’s not Holloway.” When Beck’s eyebrows drew together in surprise and anger, I said, “I looked through everything again. I still can’t find him.”
A pent-up breath rushed from Beck. “Well, fuck. How do we find this goddamn ghost?”
“He’s . . . he’s not the ghost.” I folded my arms over my chest and tried not to show Beck how much it wrecked me to say, “Jessica is.” I worked my jaw and gave a hard nod. “You were right. She was playing me. She was with me for a reason. But if I’m right, she was doing it because Mickey has her mom.”
He opened his mouth then quickly shut it. A few seconds went by before he slowly lifted his hand and said, “I need you to let me talk and get everything out without throwing shit at me.”
My pulse immediately dipped.
“Kieran.”
“Talk,” I bit out.
He let out a sigh, mumbled a few curses, then snatched a pillow to hold it in front of him. Like that would stop one of my knives. “I know Mickey has her mom. I’ve known.”
“How long?” I demanded. My fingers ached to reach for the cool metal to help calm me, but I didn’t move.
“The morning after you told me about Mickey having us all watched. He came and asked me about this girl’s mom. I knew who he was talking about so I tried to deflect because I wanted to protect them.” Beck scrambled for a second with how to continue. “Then I realized he already knew a shit ton about Jess . . . he just wanted to confirm details about her mom.”
“Jesus, Beck.”
“What was I supposed to do?” he asked loudly. “I was afraid if I didn’t say something, he’d know I helped with the Borellos. And he already knew most of what I was telling him. It felt like he was testing me. He took her mom that night.”
That caught my attention. “No. I was in Jessica’s trailer that night—” I hissed a curse and scrubbed at my face. “The window. Jessica kept talking about the window I’d left open when I let myself in, but I’d gone in through the door. They must’ve opened the window earlier so they’d have a way in. Jessica’s mom was still there when I left.”
I looked over at Beck when he didn’t say anything, and found him looking at me with a wounded expression. “It’d already started. The night after you met her, it’d already started between you two?”
“No, Beck. She stole my wallet. I went looking for it.”
His head shifted slowly. “Jess doesn’t steal. I told you that.”
“Trust me. She does.”
“She never has before. I know her.” He raked his hands through his hair and groaned. “I thought I did. She can’t . . . she can’t be the ghost. She wouldn’t kill someone. I knew there had to be someone else.”
The ache and denial in his voice was like he already—
