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She shook herself out of it. “My sister invited the press here?”
“She’s got an evil streak… Not that it was some huge secret that me and Joe are related, but I guess the media love a bit of gossip.”
Astrid opened her mouth to ask if he had a plan, but the journalists knocked again. “If you’d just like to answer a few questions, Mr. Quinlan?”
Jake threw back the covers, pulled on his pants, and ripped open the door. Astrid loitered behind him, confident that he’d send them packing.
“No, I would not like to answer any goddamnn questions. Whatever Emma told you, she had no right to.”
Astrid could see the journalists craning to look inside. The one who was doing all the talking was a balding man in a nylon suit. He spoke with a nasally voice. “And that’s the other thing,” the journalist said. “About Emma. She’s gone missing, and the woman across the road says you were the last person to speak to her. And apparently you were rough with her. The police have been called.” He stuck a microphone in Jake’s face. “Do you have any comments?”
Astrid’s mind churned with worry – had he just said Emma had gone missing? But there was no time to think about that right now, because Jake grabbed the journalist by the shirt, making him drop his mic. “Yeah, I do just have one comment,” Jake growled. “Get out of my fucking face, and leave me alone.”
He slammed the door and turned to face Astrid.
“Well handled,” she said.
He smirked sheepishly. “Thanks.”
Panic crept through her body. “Did he say my sister’s gone missing?”
“Yeah. And apparently I’m being accused of having something to do with it. I guess we’d better get dressed and find out what’s going on.”
He stepped over and kissed her, cupping her chin and warming her soul. Just for a split-second all was perfect in the universe. But life was happening out there, and they needed to face it. She pulled away. “Yeah, come on, let’s face the music.”
They both dressed quickly, and Astrid felt embarrassed as they squeezed past the gathered journalists who pelted her with questions about what she’d been doing with Jake last night.
“What the hell do you think?” she hissed. “Playing dominoes? Now what’s this about my sister?”
“Don’t speak to them, Astrid,” Jake said, guiding her by the elbow toward the exit. They strode out of the hotel and into the street, where a small crowd of nosy townsfolk had gathered.
Astrid saw her parents talking to the local sheriff – Daniel Kent – probably telling him to go find their daughter without resorting to his usual corruption. Daniel Kent wasn’t an unattractive man, but his unpleasant personality tended to make you quickly forget his good looks. He was wiry but strong, with cropped hair and broad facial features. Astrid rarely saw him smile. He wasn’t someone who she’d expect ever to burst into laughter. His sheriff’s uniform was neatly ironed to the point of looking severe – just like him.
Ever since he’d moved here last year, he’d been trying to get Astrid away from Simon. Not in any magnanimous way – more like two wounded animals fighting over a scrap of meat. She didn’t trust him, and – apparently – neither did Jake.
“That’s your local sheriff?”
“Yeah, why?”
“He’s a total scumbag.”
“Oh, you’ve met him then?”
“I sure have. We grew up in the same town – went to the same school. Then we ended up working together in the NYPD until I got kicked out. I hadn’t realized he’d left too.”
“So you’re old friends?”
He smiled sinisterly. “Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
“Daniel’s the older brother of my childhood friend.”
“What? The one who drowned?”
“Yeah. He’s always blamed me. His nasty comments at the time probably didn’t help to ease my conscience. He’s two years older than me, and he was seventeen when his brother died. He made it clear around school he thought I should’ve been arrested for what happened.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”
