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“He’s your brother, isn’t he?” the man continues. “Connor Maguire. You’re Roisin, and your sister is Aimee.”
My blood runs cold.
No one knows that Connor is my brother; even Aimee avoids talking about him at all costs.Avoided,I correct myself. I haven’t talked to Aimee in months.
It’s the dread that makes me turn around.
“Did you kill her too?” I ask shakily.
The man looks up at me from the floor and seems to register my distress.
“No. She’s very much alive,” he says, giving me a curious look. “You’ve not seen her in a while, have you?”
“How do you know all this?” I say instead of answering.
My response seems to confirm his suspicion.
He gets to his feet slowly, hands raised in that same “tame the animal” pose as before. “I know where she is.”
It’s like his words punch a hole in my gut. He’s lying. He has to be.
Otherwise…
Otherwise, this stranger, thisassassin,knows more about my sister than I do.
“Liar,” I hiss, and he takes a step back.
“Okay… I don’t know where she is,” he admits. “But I know who she’s with.”
He slowly reaches into his back pocket, and I brace myself to run out the door. But he only pulls out a phone. With a final glance at me, he quickly taps in a few commands. I debate running anyway while he’s distracted, but my feet won’t move, no matter how much I will them to.
Finally, he shows me the face of his phone in his outstretched hand. I’m forced to step forward and take it from him in order to see the photo he’s showing me.
It’s at a strange angle, like something a PI would probably take from a concealed location. But the image is clear enough.
The back of my sister’s head is unmistakably red; the profile of her nose matches mine exactly. But the photo isn’t of her. It’s of the man she’s sitting across from at the table. A serious-looking man with piercing gray eyes. His thick, brunette hair is shaved closely at the sides.
It’s not the fact that he’s holding my sister’s hand that surprises me.
It’s the fact I recognize him.
“That’s… My sister and her… That’s Jack.”
The man Aimee had slept with a few times before she disappeared. I only saw him once as he sheepishly left our apartment one morning. He still looks as handsome as he did then, but there was nothing this serious going on with them back then. Not the way he seems to look so lovingly into her eyes. I never thought that he might have been the reason she left.
“When did you take this?” I demand, thrusting the phone back into the man’s hand.
His eyes betray his surprise. “A couple weeks ago. You know Jack Duffy?”
Duffy… The name rattles the box in my mind that I keep under constant lock and key.
“He was an acting agent. What does he have to do with anything?”
The man looks torn, glancing at the door and then back at me. “I can tell you, but not here. You need to come with me.”
I’m immediately alert again. He’s only an arm’s length away from me right now.
“Please, Roisin,” he begs, with another glance at the door. “We don’t have much time.”
