Page 133 of Blind Prophet

Regardless, it’s easy to see how Caroline and Sophia became close. Like Sophia, Caroline chose to work. Our prenuptial agreement entitled her to enough that she wouldn’t have to work another day in her life. But she never pursued a dollar of those funds. She never hired legal counsel. Of course, Caroline’s background with two school teachers as parents is far more provincial than Sophia’s.

“Dorian, before you head out of here, do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

Sophia’s direct, I’ll give her that.

“Shoot.” I scan the cubicles. “Where’s Caroline?”

One guy at the conference room table hears my question and answers. “She and Luke went on a coffee run.”

Luke. That’s the guy who couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“There’s nothing going on there,” Sophia says.

Mind-reading must be one of the skills they teach at the Central Intelligence Agency.

“What do you need to ask me?” If she’s direct, I can be, too.

“There’s an APB out on Geoffrey Cromwell. We suspect he’s left the country. Do you have any idea where he might go?”

I suppose she means other than Russia. I scrub my fingers through my hair, exhaustion infiltrating after the long day.

“I’ve known Geoffrey Cromwell most of my life. But we’ve never been close. I’ve never been to his home. In Colorado or New York. I couldn’t even tell you if he’s married or single, straight or gay. Our relationship has been strictly professional. I suppose Caroline told you that, until yesterday, I had no idea that he’s my brother. Well, half-brother.”

A dull pain surfaces along my brow.Dammit. The last thing I need is for a migraine to surface.

“But he’s been to your home?”

Geoffrey spends most of his time at my father’s home. I thought of him as one of the cronies who orbit my dad, kissing his ass.

“Many times. He lives somewhere nearby.” I lived with Dad when I was building the house. Geoffrey asked lots of questions during the process. “Geoffrey built his home in Colorado around the same time I built my house. We used the same builder. I actually hired my builder, per his recommendation.” In retrospect, that was a fuckup. I’ll need a team to sweep the house. “But you say he’s not in Colorado?”

She shakes her head. “Do you know any of his friends? Assistants?”

I lean against the wall, racking my brain. My friends aren’t friends with Geoffrey. Our professional circles overlapped, but those are all acquaintances.

“When Geoffrey moved to Colorado, he retired. Semi-retired. He kept my father’s account. To my knowledge, he let his employees go. You could ask my assistant, Jay Colston, if he knew any of Geoffrey’s employees. He always dealt with Geoffrey for me.”

I hear my uselessness and hate it. How could I have been so inattentive? But in all fairness, suits circled my dad. At a young age, I began weeding through those I needed to pay attention to and those I could completely disregard.

“How can I reach Jay Colston?”

I pull out my phone and send her a text with Jay’s contact info.

“How do you have my number?” Sophia asks.

I release a sigh that holds a mix of exhaustion and dismay. “I’ve had it for a long time, Sophia.” She tilts her head, silently questioning. I shouldn’t have to explain to her that phone numbers aren’t exactly hard to come by. “You were my wife’s close friend. Of course, I had it.”

“Ex-wife.”

“Separated,” I counter.

“You didn’t sign the papers?”

And I’m not going to. “We’re taking things slow, but I’m hopeful.”

I stare straight into her eyes and notice they’re blue, like Caroline’s. A deeper blue, whereas Caroline’s are ethereal.

“Where is Caroline?” I’m ready to call this day. “Where’s this coffee shop?”

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