Page 106 of Playing With Danger

“She’s not there. No one’s seen her.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

“I’ll be up in a second,” I told him and disconnected.

My chest started burning and that something became harder to lock down.

26

I suspected Hayden’s patience, like mine, was wearing thin.

Sophie’s mother was a pain in the ass.

And I was done.

I stared at Hayden’s cell sitting on the kitchen table between the two of us and wanted to reach through the phone and shake the woman.

“Listen to me,” I belted out. “This isn’t about you. This is about Sophie. We’re not after a history lesson, a simple yes or no. Have you seen Sophie today?”

“No.”

It was a long shot but fuck.

“Other than wanting to connect with Sophie has there been a reason you’ve come by her apartment?”

“Do I need a reason?—”

“Yes or no?”

“I don’t believe that’s your business,” Lorelai challenged.

The woman was dead-ass wrong but I didn’t have time to waste arguing with her. Brady had already gotten to work checking traffic cameras in the area after finding out the only place the apartment complex had cameras were outside and inside the club house, the gym, and the pool. Nothing in the breezeways, halls, or parking lot. A huge fucking oversight on the owner’s part.

“Lorelai, the other day you were here you said it was imperative Sophie get in touch,” Hayden tried, and I had to hand it to him; he kept his tone even whereas I was ready to strangle the woman. “We need to know what was so important you speak to her.”

“Why? Is it so strange for a mother to want to speak to her daughter after she’s ignored her for weeks?”

Coming from a nice, kind, loving mother, yes, that would be strange—her repeated visits would come from a place of worry. For a pushy, overbearing one, probably not—she’d find it imperative to speak to her daughter so she could get her way.

“Why are you calling me instead of my daughter? Where’s Sophie?”

It was about time she asked after her daughter.

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” I told her.

Any other parent, I would’ve cushioned that. But this parent? I didn’t have the time or desire.

“What does that mean?” she shrieked.

Now, that was the first response I’d heard from the woman that conveyed she actually gave one single shit about her daughter.

“It means her purse, phone, and car are at the apartment. But she’s not. And we know the last call she made from her phone was to me before she walked into her apartment.”

“I need to come over. I’ll be there?—”

“You don’t need to come here,” Hayden piped in before I could.

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