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Rainey’s in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette.
That reminds me of the ashtray in the living room that I wanted to empty. I walk into the living room and pick it up. A cigarette butt falls onto the end table. I grab the cigarette butt, place it back in the ashtray—
Crash!
The ashtray slips from my still damp hands and clatters onto the glass-topped coffee table, shattering it. Butts and ashes fall to the table and to the floor.
“You okay in there?” Rainey yells from the kitchen.
“Yeah. Fine. I’m sorry. I dropped your ashtray. It broke the glass top of the coffee table. I’ll clean it up and replace the glass.”
What a mess.
I pick up the ashtray, ready to shove as much ash back into it as possible, when the design printed on it catches my gaze.
It’s a horse. A racehorse, to be exact, and next to it… I look on the other side, next to the horse logo.
Racehorse Hauling.
Perhaps this was Joey’s. Maybe he gave this ashtray to our father.
But already, my instinct is telling me otherwise. If my father truly came into some money—if he was telling Rainey the truth—this could be a clue. And when Racehorse Hauling was shut down? So was the money.
I pull my phone out of my purse quickly, and my heart skips a beat when I see that I have a voicemail from Miles. I didn’t hear the phone ring because I set it on silent during the meeting in the conference room this morning. Crap. I forgot to turn the ringer back on. I hope Miles isn’t worried. I call his number, but he doesn’t answer.
I’ll send him a text.
Miles, I’m at my father’s. You’re not going to believe what I—
Damn. Instead of hitting the space key I hitsend. Sheesh.
I continue the text, but then I jerk and drop my phone onto the floor among the ashes and butts.
The knob on the front door is turning.
Slowly.
I look up and swallow hard. Oh shit.
25
MILES
I pullout my phone to try Sadie again and—
Damn! I’ve had my ringer off since this morning. And I have a missed call and a text from Sadie. Thank fuck! I’m not sure I realized how worried I was until the cement block rises from my shoulders.
Miles, I’m at my father’s. You’re not going to believe what I–
The text stops. And she didn’t leave me a voicemail.
The cement block is back, and it’s heavier than ever this time.
Why the hell is she back at her father’s place? He clearly had no interest in her.
Why would she send an unfinished text?
From there?
