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“The events…” My blood runs cold. “What events? I—I don’t understand.”
She smiles sadly. “Most memory loss like yours is mild, Miss Caputo. Your memories should return over time.”
“I want my mom. Is she here?”
Dr. Marshall’s face takes on a pained expression before she gently squeezes my arm. “There is a detective waiting who wishes to speak with you, Miss Cap—”
“A detective?” My already racing heat threatens to beat clear out of my chest.
The doctor holds up a stalling hand, her expression cautious and concerned. “Yes, Miss Caputo. He would like to speak with you. Whenever you are feeling up to it, and I believe he will be able to answer any of your questions more capably than I could.”
“But I’m ready now.”
“You should take some—”
“No.” I push myself up in the bed despite the room beginning to spin. “Ineedto know what is going on.Now!”
My stomach is churning in nauseous anticipation as Dr. Marshall tips her chin silently. “I’ll send him in momentarily.”
The door closes behind her with a quietsnick, and I take several steadying breaths in nervous apprehension.
Keep it together, Caputo.Find your calm.
I inhale deeply, holding the breath before blowing it out heavily.
Find. Your. Calm.
Slowly, a vision forms behind my closed eyelids of me standing before an easel, paintbrush in hand. Between the images flowing through my mind and the calming deep breaths, I manage to get myself under control.
Then my heart lurches in my chest when the door opens, and a tall blonde man steps inside.
“Miss Caputo, I’m Detective Joseph Fratelli from the South Brook Police Department. We were alerted to a disturbance at your residence by your friend, Matthew Porter.” He pauses, apparently giving that a moment to sink in.
When he’s met with my unblinking silence, he continues. “Would you feel comfortable answering a couple of questions for me today?”
“Where’s my mom?”
“Dr. Marshall said you don’t recall what happened.”
I sit up straighter, frowning deeply despite the shooting pain in my temple. “Where. Is. She?”
He shuffles agitatedly at each clearly enunciated word. Somehow, Iknowthat what’s about to come out of his mouth isn’t something I want to hear, so I brace myself for his next words.
“There appears to have been an intruder at your residence. Evidence at the scene, alongside your head trauma, lead us to believe foul play was involved.”
“Oh my God!” Tears fill my eyes, cresting my lashes to run down both cheeks. “Is my mother…is she okay?”
He stops and clears his throat before his next statement cleaves a hole in my chest.
“Miss Caputo, your mother is missing.”
CHAPTER4
VAUGHN
A sharp rap on my door has me lifting my head from the ledger on my desk as I try to get ahead of myself before my scheduled intervention of sorts with Alex DeMarco and Grayson Hunter later today.
Both men work for the global entertainment giant DeMarco Holdings, and though Alex was a frequent visitor here before meeting his wife, Grayson has never set foot in the club. Only my office.
