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I crossed the room and took up where he’d been standing, keeping watch outside the window, but I could see from the window’s reflection that she’ glanced at me.
“Dee.”
She turned to him. “We…” She looked at me again.
“Dee,” Tray said calmly, “what did you and Gray do?”
“We teamed up, okay? He didn’t want to tell anyone about this, but when he didn’t show up for school today, it’s like it’s happening all over again.” She shook her head. “He thought Brian was dead because of Jace. I didn’t know what to think of that. I mean, they’re brothers, right? But I know that Brian hated Jace and there hasn't been a relationship between them for a while. Gray wanted to ask his brother some questions.”
“What did Jace say?”
“Nothing. We never found him. Jace Lanser is missing or,” her lip trembled, “he’s gone or dead, you know?”
Reaching for the window frame, my fingers curled around it. I didn’t dare breathe, the hope was so strong in me.
Looking at Ro now, she added, “Gray didn’t want to tell you anything. He said he didn’t want you to worry either.”
I shook my head and turned around. “Why do you think Jace is missing? He’s never been available for just anyone to find him.”
“I know, but we staked out everywhere and waited for him. There was nothing. His clubs, his businesses, even the Panther’s headquarters. His house. Brian’s old house. Nothing. Gray said he had one last place to look and then he was going to tell you what was going on.”
“Do you know where that was?”
“I assumed it was your house. Brian always talked abo
ut how close you and Jace used to be. He thought his brother was obsessed with you. I just assumed that’s what Gray meant.”
Nowhere. That’s where this interrogation had gotten us. No-fucking-where. I turned to Tray. “Let’s go. We have to find Gray.”
No one stopped us. We swept through the house and out to the
parking lot. Once we were out of earshot, I stopped, bent over, and let out a scream. It had been sitting on the bottom of my throat, waiting for me to let it loose, and I didn’t hold back. My hands grasped my hair and pulled on it.
Once I was done, I glanced at Tray. He lifted an eyebrow. “You want to scream again or do you want to hear my suggestion?”
“No.” I had one more lead. “I know someone else who might know something about Jace.”
“Who?”
“Kevin. The guy he forced to adopt me.”
*
I knew no one was home, but I parked my car around the block and walked anyway. I was dressed from head to toe in black with a red bandana around my neck. There were better items to wear, a black bandana would’ve been better, but I wanted red. It stood for Brian’s death. I was being dramatic, but I didn’t care. I didn’t know what would happen or what lengths I would go to that night. I wanted information. Kevin was going to tell me everything and if I needed to look like a homicidal maniac to get it, so be it.
Letting myself into the house, I pocketed my key and kept the lights off. Mandy was with Shelly. The two left town for Austin’s tournament and Tray texted me that Kevin had driven past him further down the road. He was on his way home. So I sat and waited.
A few minutes later, the car’s headlights flashed through the house as it turned into the driveway. The garage door opened and he parked inside. The engine turned off. He was coming. Closing my eyes, I took out my knife. That, also, was intended to strike fear in my adoptive father. When he opened the door, the light switched on and I heard his gasp. Then he belted out an abrupt laugh. “Taryn, you scared the hell out of me.”
I was still in the shadows. The kitchen light didn’t extend all the way to the end of the table where I was sitting. When he closed the door and stepped closer, he saw what I was wearing. The laughter faded and his eyes dropped to the knife. “What’s that for?”
I picked it up and put the end on the table. Then I let it spin. As I held it in place with the palm of my hand, I watched him. He watched it spin. He wasn’t laughing anymore, and he moved back a step.
“Taryn?”
I continued to stare at him until I saw his hand slide inside of his pocket. He was reaching for his phone. I asked, “Who are you going to call?”
His hand fell out of his jacket pocket. “I suppose I can’t call the cops.” He looked down. His tie was twisted, but he let it be. “I had a business meeting. What are you doing in my house?”
