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We need to know what happened to Hunter and who did it.

My mind goes back to the hourglass in Jax’s office. I need to stop thinking about this and find out why it’s on my mind. I dial Mindy Williams, from our corporate offices, who use to be my father’s assistant. “Emma, what can I do for you?”

“We used to carry these really cool hourglasses in our hotel stores, it was a few decades back.”

“I have one actually. Your mother gave it to me. She designed them. You knew that, right?”

“Really? No. I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, but they weren’t actually in the stores. They were gifts for special clients.”

“My mother worked?”

“She did. It didn’t last, of course. Your father didn’t approve of her being outside the home but she was much like you, my dear. Charming, and oh so good with the customers. She knew how to spoil them. Those hourglasses were quite pricy then and now. I had mine assessed last year. It’s worth five thousand dollars.”

“Wow. That’s crazy. Five thousand dollars?”

“I know, right? It is crazy. They were special gifts. Your mother even included a personal note at the bottom of each one in a secret compartment. I still have mine. I covet the note as much as the hourglass.”

“I wish I had one.”

“Your mother still has a few I believe.”

“Have you heard from her?”

“No, honey. She really has checked out since your dad died.”

My chest tightens with a memory of her crying by his casket. It was more emotion than I ever saw between them when he was alive. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, she did.” I’m about to end the call when another question occurs. “Was there a time when the North Whiskey family and my parents were close?”

“Not close, but Marcus North and his wife wined and dined your parents on a few fancy trips. Actually, your mother seemed to have gotten quite close to his wife. Why?”

My mother and Jax’s mother became friends? Only Jax’s mother was sleeping with my father. My father was such a bastard. “I’m dating Jax North. We were just talking about family history. I think I might design another hourglass for the holidays. We need to show our customers how present we are with the change of leadership.”

“That’s a fabulous idea.”

We chat a few more minutes about the details, and the idea really does grow on me. When finally, we disconnect, I do so with a sick feeling in my belly. There’s one more person with a motive for killing Hunter, one more person who might have wanted to protect her empire, her children, and her pride: my mother.

I stand up and dump my plate. I need to go to Jax’s office and see that hourglass. I need to know what the note says if there is one.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Emma

Heading away from the brunch, I step through the archway to find Savage guarding the door. “Going somewhere, my little pretty?” he asks, sounding like the big bad wolf.

“To Jax’s office. Is it safe? Because Brody being here makes me nervous.”

“Smith and I have your back.”

I glance around. “Where exactly is Smith?”

“Watching the camera feed we recorded last night. That little prick Brody was here last night, and we didn’t know it until the playback. Smith’s trying to figure out how he got in here.”

“Brody was here last night?” I ask.

“He was indeed.”

“He’d know how to get to the side of the castle, wearing that raincoat, without being seen,” I say. “And he could have left the note.” I frown. “No. Brody didn’t leave me anything. He wouldn’t accuse Jax of killing Hunter, and he wouldn’t want me to know about the DNA test.”

“Agreed,” he says. “But I don’t like the idea of him getting in and out of the castle without me knowing it. I’ve had my life threatened if anything should happen to you.”

I arch a brow. “Jax threatened your life?”

He points fingers at his eyes. “It was in his eyes. And he said he trusts me. I take that shit seriously. You don’t get to die on him or me.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that. Jax’s office?”

He gives me a deadpan stare. “What do you need in Jax’s office?”

I could be defensive about that question, but I’m not. His nosiness is oddly comforting. No one, Brody included, will come at me with this big, offensive beast asking questions. “I might have found a clue in this mystery we’re trying to unravel on his bookshelf, that used to be his father’s bookshelf,” I explain. “It’s an hourglass that I thought was sold in our gift shops decades back. Turns out, it’s a pricy gift that my mother created and handed out to special clients. There’s a secret compartment at the bottom that holds a customized message. I need to see that message.”

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