“Yeah.” My voice was shaky and totally unconvincing. “I’m just going to go upstairs and lie down for a nap.”
Nicole stood up to help me. She was like a mother hen, hovering over me and trying to do everything for me. It was incredibly sweet, but right now, I needed her attention elsewhere.
“I’m fine, Nicole,” I told her. “I can manage on my own. It makes me feel better knowing that you’re all down here looking through everything.”
She nodded and bit her lip in clear frustration. We hadn’t found anything in Ryland’s records, which didn’t really surprise me. He had a lot of files on a variety of different people, including Alex Burton, but none of them gave away the really shady details. He always seemed to keep those to himself somehow.
“Well, just let me know if you need anything,” Nicole said. “I’ll be right down here.”
“Thanks.” I nodded and scurried from the room as quickly as I could go. I was seven months pregnant, and everything about me was slowing down.
I walked up the stairs so I didn’t arouse any suspicion and went straight to Ryland’s office. The keys to his jaguar were in his key box, complete with a label and all. It fractured what little was left of my strength. Only my husband would put a label on keys to a Jaguar.
I hoped that I could help him. I hoped that Brayden wasn’t deceiving me.
I walked out onto the balcony and took the stairs that led down to the back yard. Luckily the garage was far enough away from the sitting room that I didn’t think they would hear me.
I felt ridiculous slipping into his Jaguar. Ryland didn’t like me driving anywhere, so I didn’t. I was fine with that. I felt safe riding with Ted, and I’d grown used to it.
The interior smelled of leather and cinnamon, and I closed my eyes to inhale. I needed him to be safe. I needed him to be okay. I didn’t know what I would do if he wasn’t.
The car started with a quiet purr, and I slipped out of the gate without anyone noticing, at least as far as I could tell. The drive was long and tense. Every mile that passed felt like ten. Traffic was thick in the city this time of day, and it took me forever to get to the address.
I frowned when I realized it was a warehouse. There wasn’t much around us, and I’d be highly surprised if the Jag was even still sitting on the street when I came back out. But none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was that my husband might be in there. Or at least, Brayden might know where he was.
Still, I hesitated. I didn’t have a good feeling about this.
What the hell was Brayden doing in a warehouse in this part of the city? Everything about this screamed trouble. I tried to think of what was logical. What was best for me to do. I could call the detective and tell him I was here. But what if Brayden was right? What if someone was holding Ryland and they hurt him when they saw I’d called the cops?
I didn’t know what else to do. So I sent Brayden another text.
I’m here. Is it safe to come in?
My phone chimed almost immediately with an affirmative answer. It didn’t reassure me in the slightest. I wasn’t a complete idiot though. I knew there was no way I could go in there without some kind of backup plan, just in case.
So I texted Mick. He was due to land right about this time if I remembered correctly. I didn’t know what to tell him, so I forwarded Brayden’s texts to him and told him I was going to check it out. And then I decided to leave my phone in the car and turned on so he could track it if he needed to.
I stepped out of the car with clenched hands. It was broad daylight, and still, the thought of going into this warehouse scared the crap out of me. I wanted to demand that Brayden come out. I decided that I wouldn’t actually go inside until I saw his face. So I started for the front doors.
They wouldn’t open, and there was no response to my knock.
I sighed in frustration as I walked around the building, looking for another way in. I found another door, just as a chilling voice spoke from behind me.
“Hello, Brighton.”
I spun around to be met with cold, black eyes. Eyes that were familiar, and it took me a moment to realize why. They were from the photographs in Brayden’s file. Alfredo Zucco.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
He smiled, revealing a gold tooth.
“We haven’t met yet, you and I,” the man answered. “But I’m sure you might have heard of me. My name is Alfredo.”
I felt like I was going to throw up. I wanted to run, but somehow I knew I wouldn’t get very far. So I tried to stall while I came up with another plan.
“I know who you are,” I said coolly. “Where is Brayden?”
“You’ve created a bit of a media spectacle here,” he said with an amused laugh. “So it’s been a little difficult to get in touch with you until now. Brayden’s just inside.”