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“Yes. The kids and me. Last week. We were, um—”

My body was trembling as Kevin’s hands fell to my shoulders. He began to massage them, willing my body to settle down enough so I could talk in coherent sentences.

I couldn't lose it now.

Sydney needed my testimony.

“We were at the museums. The kid’s science museum and the history exhibit across the road. That man was following us on the tour and then he was watching us from across the road when we got in a cab to come home.”

“Have you seen him anywhere else?” the officer asked.

“A few days ago, on the beach. He was standing just at the edge of the property looking out over the water,” I said.

“And you’re sure it’s him?” the officer asked.

“I’m one hundred percent positive.”

“Could I get a copy of that picture?” Kevin asked.

“We’ll have someone bring a copy by your house as soon as possible.”

“Good,” I said.

“This is the only lead we’ve got, so we’re running with it. Facial recognition, traffic cameras, that sort of thing. Once we have a name, we can see if he owns property and pull up possible accomplices. Have you heard anything more

since the ransom note?”

“No,” Kevin said, shaking his head. “But I’m more than willing to pay it. Why won’t you just let me pay it?” he asked.

One of the officers shook his head and placed a hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “Because, Mr. Spencer, in our experience, paying the ransom doesn’t always guarantee that the child will be returned. And it also gives the kidnappers more resources to cover their tracks. I promise you, we are doing everything we can to find your daughter and return her safely to you.”

Kevin nodded his understanding.

“Thank you,” Kevin said. “Thank you for all you’re doing.”

The officers walked away, and Kevin shut the door. His hands slid from my shoulders and I slumped over, exhausted from the effort it took just to stand these days. I turned around and watched Kevin drag himself back to the porch. He was just as exhausted as I was.

I watched him until he sat back in his chair, his eyes focusing on the horizon again.

Then I fell against the door, sliding down to my ass as tears welled in my eyes and ran down my cheeks.

CHAPTER 21

KEVIN

I poured myself a glass of whiskey, then stood and watched the rain beat down on the island. Out there somewhere my daughter was scared, and I wasn’t there to protect her. Tears filled my eyes as I brought the glass to my lips, grimacing as the fire cascaded down my throat. I could feel the alcohol traveling all the way to my empty stomach. It was the only thing sustaining my body at this point. The only thing that seemed to take the edge off. I jumped every time the phone rang, and my heart broke every time my son cried. I’d hear Brooke walking around the house and I would think it was Sydney. The ache when I saw it was Brooke instead, would remind me of how my daughter was gone. The guilt for one thing or another would settle in again.

My body was in upheaval, and I needed the alcohol to dull the sensations.

This was all my fault. I’d known Gianni was into some bad shit. Twenty years of friendship bought me rights to his past. I’d heard the rumors that flew around him, the type of reputation he had in our community. But we had scratched each other’s backs plenty of times during the rise of our companies, so I trusted him as much as I could. And that decision had come back to bite me in the ass. My baby girl was gone. Kidnapped.

Right out of my fucking house.

The patter of small feet clenched my heart, but I knew it wasn’t her. I knew it was only Brooke, and the guilty disappointment filled my chest cavity. Having Brooke around was the only thing keeping me afloat, and yet there was disappointment and anger every time she wasn’t Sydney walking around the corner. I turned to face her and saw how haggard she was. For the first time in days, I saw the toll this was taking on her, how sunken her cheeks were and how pale her skin had become. The wall was literally holding up her body as she slouched against it. She could barely keep her eyes open and they were bloodshot with constant tears.

I reached for a glass and poured her a stiff drink, then walked it over to her shaking hand.

She tossed it back and I watched her down four shots of whiskey in two gulps. Her face grimaced with the burn before she tossed the glass haphazardly onto the kitchen counter. She raked her hands through her hair as fresh tears appeared and fell faster than the rain outside, and I downed the rest of my own drink as her sobs became audible.

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