The agent.

Stupid, Ethan.

He opened her contacts, pulled up the name—Jessamin Fleming—picked up the phone, and dialed the number. Jessamin’s assistant answered perkily.

“Ms. Fleming’s office.”

“This is Ethan Montclair. I need to speak with Jessamin straightaway. It’s an emergency.”

“Oh! Yes, sir, of course. Hold, please.”

A moment later, Jessamin herself came on the line. She was a big woman, tall and shapely, with a voice like a truck driver after a lifetime three-pack-a-day habit. He liked her.

“Ethan? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Sutton? Ally said it was an emergency.”

“Have you spoken to her, Jess?”

“Not since last week. Why? What’s wrong?”

“She’s gone. She left me a note, said not to look for her.”

Silence. Dead, empty, cold silence. Then, coolly, “Well, Ethan. This sounds like something between you and Sutton.”

Shit. “Please, Jess. If you know anything, tell me. I’m very worried about her. She left everything behind, her laptop, her phone, her purse. She’s been upset, sad, and I’m worried she might have tried to hurt herself.”

“Or she’s left you.”

“Without her things? I mean, yes, I’m a right bastard, but without her things, there’s no way. Something’s wrong, I can feel it.”

“New things can be bought. Perhaps she truly doesn’t want you to look for her, Ethan.”

The doorbell rang, and Ethan started moving toward the foyer. “Jess. You know her as well as anyone. Did she tell you she was leaving me? Because if she is, that’s fine. I’ll be devastated, yes, but I won’t fight her. I’m truly worried about her. If I know she’s left purposefully, then I can stop pacing the house, freaking out.”

“She didn’t say anything to me, Ethan. If you’re so worried, perhaps you should call the police.”

“That’s my next step.”

“Well, then. Keep me posted.”

“You don’t even sound concerned, Jess.”

“I am concerned, Ethan. But Sutton is her own woman, always has been. And since Dashiell...”

“Yes. I know. Thank you, Jess.”

Thanks for absolutely nothing, you loathsome old bitch.

He pocketed the phone and swung open the door, was faced with a trio of women. Filly, Ellen, and Rachel. He couldn’t help but think, Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air. These three brought chaos and destruction in their wake, and he could smell it coming off them like brimstone.

“Ladies.”

“Have you heard from her yet, Ethan?” Filly had both her babies, the one born alongside Dashiell, only a few days apart, and the accidental second baby, still a newborn, conceived the first time she and her husband had sex after the gynecologist cleared them. Of course Filly had waited the proscribed six weeks. She was not a rule breaker. Not like Sutton... And never mind that it might cause him pain to see the perfectly wrapped cherubs in their ridiculously expensive running stroller.

“No, I haven’t.” He noticed the little yellow-haired girl from across the street playing on the sidewalk in front of her house. She stopped and stared at him, then burst into tears and rushed into her garage. Jesus, was the whole world convinced he’d done something wrong? Or was he just being paranoid?