“I’m sure she will.” I’m not any more certain of that than I am about Ken, and I care about as much. I care about not giving the police any reason to come around.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Have you ever been afraid of something bad happening for so long that when it finally does, you can’t even worry about it? That’s kind of where I am.”

Lisa nods. “I’m sorry. I know you weren’t happy, but it must suck to be left without warning. You’ll be okay, though. You’re strong.”

I don’t argue with her. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” she says with the bleary sincerity of the intoxicated. “For making me feel better about Beth. I’m sure you’re right, and it’s all going to be fine.”

We sit together for a few minutes after that before Lisa hauls herself upright and leaves for home. I rinse out her glass and put the much emptier bottle of vodka away. I look across the yard to see Christian’s SUV in the driveway, and my hands shake so much I drop the glass. It shatters in the sink.

I know exactly what reason Christian would have for making sure Beth disappeared.

CHAPTER
32

CHRISTIAN TAKES.

Christian does not give, he will always take and take, and I should not be hurt by this, I cannot be wounded, and yet here I am, pounding on the door to the carriage house so hard I bruise my knuckles. The door is locked, no surprise. My key doesn’t work, and that is.

I pound harder, slapping my palm against the metal door. When he doesn’t answer the door, I call him. It dumps straight into voice mail. I call again. Again. Pounding. Calling. Texting. He’s going to answer this door and answer my questions, or—

“Jesus, what are you trying to do, break it down? Chill out, Jewelann,” Christian says after he yanks open the door.

His hair is rumpled, face crumpled with sleep. He wears only a pair of boxers that hide nothing. Why is he always almost naked? The way he stands opens the flap so I could see inside, if I looked.

I don’t look. I push past him and into the living room. I scan for signs of … what, I’m not sure, but all I see is destruction. The kitchen cabinets are still missing. The floor, swept clean but bare concrete. The new furniture has been rearranged, but that’s not proof of anything. The faint odor of cleanser hangs in the air, and it’s not proof, either.

“Where is Beth?”

Christian shrugs and closes the door behind me. “No idea. I haven’t seen her lately.”

“That would be a trick if you did. She’s been missing for days.” I advance on him, stabbing a finger in his direction. I feel wild-eyed. Deranged, like I’m daring him to come at me, give me an excuse to fight back. I could launch myself at him and rake his face open with the blunt tips of my nails, if I had to. “Her earring was on your bathroom floor. Broken.”