Page 177 of Gilt

Jonas appears at my side, and I resist the urge to strangle him. Why hadn’t he told me about seeing Josie at the party? Why hadn’t he told anyone?

Because he’d been scared like she is now. He’d misunderstood that fear. We both had.

Without knowing where Jameson is, he’ll do—but only in a pinch.

“I need to find Josie. She’s wearing a red dress and a red mask.” I leave him to search through the crowd while I go to find Jameson. I’m halfway to the family bedrooms when I hear raised voices. I pause. They’re coming from the room across the hall from his.

I don’t bother to knock.

Monroe looks up with tear-stained eyes and runny mascara when I enter. She opens her mouth to order me out, but I cut her off.

“I need you now,” I tell Jameson.

“Can this wait?” he asks as we step into the hall. “I’m not done crucifying my sister.”

“Nail her to the cross in the morning. I need you. I fucked up.”

Jameson’s face goes blank, and he doesn’t speak, which is probably a good thing since it’s all pouring out now.

“I made a mistake. I thought I could smoke out the murderer, but I was wrong. And now, I can’t take it back.”

Jameson grabs me by the shoulders and looks me dead in the eye. “What’s going on?”

“We were wrong,” I continue, the first hysterical sob breaking loose. “It wasn’t murder. It couldn’t be.”

“Emma, you aren’t making sense.”

I force my mouth closed then I inhale deeply. When I speak again, I keep it simple. “We have to find Josie.”

He doesn’t ask questions, although I’m certain he has as many as I do. Maybe he’s responding to my panic, or perhaps he has simply kicked into crisis mode. Grabbing my hand, we join the crush of people partying. He doesn’t let go as we weave in and out.

When I see a red mask, I yank it off without looking. But none of the red masks are hers. When we make it to the other side of the crowd, we huddle together.

“Did you see her?” he asks.

I shake my head as my breathing speeds up.

“Calm down,” he orders me. “What is going on?”

“I don’t have time to explain!”

“Then give me the CliffsNotes,” he recommends.

“I might have gotten ahold of the police file for your dad’s murder.” I don’t stop to see how he reacts to this information. “I convinced Jonas to use The Dealer to bait the murderer.”

“You did what?”

“It was reckless. I realize that now, but I thought it was the only way.” I’m screwing up this whole explanation thing, but I’m too distracted by the possible consequences of what I’ve done to care.

“What does this have to do with Josie?”

“I think she has the file.” I can’t bring myself to admit why I think she took it.

Jameson seems to understand, though. “We’ll find her. She’s going to be okay.”

How can he say that? How can anything ever be okay again? But I’m reminded of the inscription on the ring I wear. If ever I need to take a leap of faith, it’s now. He leads me around the bar and past a security guard stationed to prevent unauthorized guests from entering the private spaces of his home. The guard is busy flirting with a few drunk girls I recognize as a year younger than me.

“Has anyone been through here?” Jameson demands as the guard jumps to his feet.