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Mase: Aldridge is on his way over
I tilt my head back and sigh, giving the tension in my neck a brief respite. Losing his dad should be the worst of Mason’s problems, but it’s not. Everything’s a mess. Unravelling before us without any control over it.
Pocketing my phone, I leave my office and cross to Ben’s. I set him up on my floor last week after more money was moved between accounts. We need him to figure out who’s responsible and soon. I don’t like keeping it from Mason and Elliot, but they both have enough to deal with.
I rap my knuckles against Ben’s office door. “I’m heading out. You wanted me?”
He rolls his chair backward into my line of sight. “Yeah. I was looking through everything I found on Nina Anderson, and some payments to her mother dating back years popped up. They stopped and started again for a while, and I’m thinking she might have run out of money?”
I frown. “I told you to drop it with Nina.”
He clenches his jaw, shrugging. “All right. If you’re sure.”
I stand and watch him, knowing he’s spent hours working on this and that it’s messing with his head that he can’t figure it out. “Just keep looking. There has to be something somewhere that points to who it is.”
There’s another person that should be looked into. Someone who showed up weeks ago and turned Mason’s world upside down.
I owe it to him to figure this out.
“Look into Cara Langer. Don’t ask questions.”
I leave the office and head for the elevators, riding up to the seventy-eighth floor.
Do I think Cara is capable of stealing from Mason… yes. She’s done it before, blackmailing him to fit her agenda. But if she was smart, she wouldn’t dare fuck with us again.
She paid the price the first time.
It’s gone seven when I pull up to Lowerwick Estate, the need to speak to Scarlet too strong to put it off another day. A text wouldn’t be enough. I need to know she’s okay. Need to see it for myself and hear her voice.
I push open my car door and step onto the gravel, taking in the calm that settles around me. There’s not a single light on in the house, and I frown as I jog up the steps to the front door.
I swallow and knock, trying to figure out what I need to say.
What does she need to hear?
When she doesn’t answer, I take a step back and crane my neck up at the many windows, wondering if maybe she heard me pull up and is watching me, choosing to ignore me. The house is partially covered in ivy, wrapping around the windows and creating a shield.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and knock once more, waiting for a couple of seconds before I open the door.
There’s a small lamp switched on in the hallway, but the landing lights are off. I look around the staircase and into the kitchen, seeing it’s as dark as the rest of the house.
“Scarlet,” I call out.
When my voice only echoes off the walls, I take the stairs. The light switches are located off to the side of each wing, and I wonder why she’d leave them off when she knows she’ll have to walk to or from her room in the dark.
I flick the switch and head toward her bedroom.
My shoulders drop when I find it empty.
I stand in the doorway, my eyes heavy on her made bed. Thoughts of us together in here, pissing around in the tangled sheets, in the bathroom, and out on the grounds, flood through my mind.
Where are you, Scar?
My eyes catch on her bedside table and her phone lying on top. I cross the room and pick it up, finding it dead.
I snigger and shake my head.
Does she ever charge it?
