AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I find a recipe for a French toast casserole, and it pays to live where there is a restaurant. I send a text to one of the chefs I know is working, asking if he can courier over a few items I’m missing, and he responds instantly.
After scrolling through several recipes, I decide to make the French toast casserole, eggs, bacon and fresh fruit. It should be a pretty good spread, and I debate about making bloody Mary’s because nothing says hangover like drinking at breakfast.
About twenty minutes later, the doorbell goes off, and I cringe instantly. It’s totally going to wake Ethan up. He’s on high alert already and hearing the doorbell will send him scrambling from the bed. So much for letting him sleep in and sleep off that hangover.
I’m sure it’s just the grocery delivery I requested from the restaurant, but I’m shocked that Eric or even the security team that Ethan has stationed at the end of the driveway would have let the delivery driver through without contacting me.
I’ve gotten so used to being contacted anytime something is slightly different, or anytime anyone thinks it has to do with my safety, which means no one would have let anyone through that gate that wasn’t pre-approved by Ethan or me.
I grab my phone and shoot Eric a text, checking to make sure he or the security staff is aware that someone is ringing the doorbell as I pull up the camera footage to see who it is. Ethan would lose his shit if I just opened the door.
Eric responds as I see Detective Simmons on the camera, standing on the porch waiting to be let in. This is the reason why this person was able to get through without me knowing. He’s been here a bunch of times and we’ve told all the security team to let him through regardless.
“Who the fuck is ringing the doorbell?” I hear a groggy voice ask, and there’s Simon standing there in a t-shirt and a pair of sweats rubbing his eyes. “My brother is the only idiot who has his damn doorbell linked to every room in his house.”
“Hey, Simon,” I say, sounding a little surprised at this is how our first meeting has played out. “Nice to meet you…in person.”
“Zoey, sorry for being so vulgar so early in the morning,” he replies, and a few seconds later, Ethan is scrambling down the hall, pulling a t-shirt over his head.
All of this is playing out while Detective Simmons is waiting to be let in, ringing the doorbell a second time, and adding a hearty knock on the front door.
“Zoey, why is the detective here?” Ethan barks, not necessarily at me, but more like a question of nervous fear.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to let him in. I didn’t want to open the door until I checked to see who it was,” I reply, walking over and opening the door. “I think it might have been you who told me to not open the door,” I add, looking over my shoulder at Ethan.
It feels like we’re either perpetually furious over our situation or we’re trying to make a joke of it. There’s no in between anymore, and it’s gotten really fucking old.
“You know it’s like eight in the morning,” Ethan hisses, his eyes closed, his hand pressed to his forehead. I wasn’t wrong about the hangover thing, and I didn’t even get a chance to get breakfast ready.
“I know and I’m sorry for coming by so early, but I—”
The detective is cut off almost instantly, and I know this is not the morning to come here and bother Ethan. The detective better have something big to tell us or Ethan isn’t going to be happy about being woken up with a hangover, and while his brother is visiting.
This week is supposed to be about Brandon and Tracy and having Simon in town and celebrating. It was a time for Ethan and me to forget this nightmare and have fun. Having the detective show up at our house unannounced the morning after the bachelor and bachelorette parties is not what he had in mind.
“You better have a damn good reason for being here. Did you find out anything with the pictures?” Ethan asks, a harshness to his words.
“We’ve been trying to see if we can get any usable prints off the ones we collected from Zoey and from the Holden’s, but so far nothing.”
Ethan lets out an exasperated sigh, and I walk over to him, taking his hand in mine, trying to calm him down. I know this has been a lot, and the detective is working hard, despite Ethan’s feelings about him.
“Why are you here then?” Ethan asks, and I can tell he’s losing his patience. We all are, and rightfully so. It’s been weeks since my abduction and we aren’t any further than we were the day I escaped.
“Well, I’m not sure how to say this, but we have to interview your brother,” the detective says, looking right at Simon.
“My brother?” Ethan shouts. “What the fuck are you getting at? Just say it, Detective, because I don’t have the patience for more of your bullshit.”
“Ethan,” I whisper, and while I’m equally shocked by this recent revelation, I know the detective is just trying to do his job.
I have one hundred percent confidence in Simon having nothing to do with this, and when I look over at him, he doesn’t seem angry about the detective’s request.
“Explain to me how you think my brother, who lives in Los Angeles, can possibly have anything to do with this?” Ethan asks, his tone still loaded with anger and insinuation.
“After reviewing the most recent incident, it feels like the person we’re looking for allows for a lull in their methods. Sending you the pictures, Ethan and then waiting a bit before sending the pictures to Zoey and her family.”
“My brother hasn’t been in Tahoe in months,” Ethan defends, Simon remaining silent as the detective continues talking.
“This most recent incident coincides with Simon’s arrival in Tahoe and we know he’s a photographer,” Detective Simmons says, and this only sets Ethan off even more.
