Page 36 of His

“Where’s Cillian?”

“Hey, you,” he smiles, beckoning me with his finger. “He’s in DC, handling business.” He taps his thigh. “He’ll be back tomorrow.”

I settle on his lap. “He’s a heck of a friend.”

“I’m aware, trust me. I owe him a lot, and I will repay him.”

“I have no doubt you will.” I squint at the computer screen. “What are you doing? Is that Valerie’s personal email?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get into it?”

He slides me the side eye.

“Ah, that’s right. You and all your gadgets and fancy software can hack into anything.”

“Cillian helped before he left.”

I chuckle.

Astor exhales, leans back. “Now that I’ve had time to decompress from what happened last night, I think Valerie’s behavior could have been legitimate.”

“You believe she didn’t realize what she walked into? Your head was between my naked legs, Astor.”

“I’m not saying that, but I think it could have confused her. I saw her brain scans, Sabine; I spoke to the doctors myself. Her illness is unquestionable and one of the side effects of her drugs is hallucinations; she knows this. She’s told me frequently that she thinks she has them from time to time. So her reaction—or lack thereof—isn’t what’s bothering me.”

“Then what is?”

“The fact that she wrote Chloe’s name on the shower wall. It’s almost like she’s communicating in a way that she can’t control.”

“That sounds way too creepy and paranormal for me.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“Okay so what are you looking for in her email?”

“Anything. I have this nagging feeling that she’s trying to tell me something. That we’re on the brink of something.” He shrugs. “Her email is the best place to start.”

I nod, and together, we scan the emails.

“Have you found anything?” I ask, already bored with the correspondence.

“The most interesting thing so far is that Valerie was in communication with the local farmer’s market. She wanted to begin selling the flowers from her garden and growing vegetables, and she wanted to understand how to get involved.”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Kind of. According to Jackie and her doctor, Dr. Squire, she was content. Maybe not happy, but content. She went out whenever she wanted, with security, of course, but she lived her own life.”

“Under your terms.”

“It was for her safety, Sabine.”

“Women need independence, Astor. When will you learn that?”

A moment passes between us as we both consider how Valerie’s adopted sister Prishna, felt so suffocated under Astor’s hold, financially and professionally, that she formed a shaky alliance with Carlos and went to great, murderous lengths to regain her independence.

I drag over a small stool and reposition myself on top of it. For the next hour, we drink coffee and filter through hundreds of emails, many between her and her sister.

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