Page 5 of Veiled

“Good to see you too. You look a little tired though.”

“Gee thanks.” I grin and pour more wine into his waiting glass as he just stands there, eyeing me with those investigative reporter eyes and his brows raised.

“What’s wrong?”

Did I say it was nice, him being here? Maybe I’m nuts.

I sigh and pour some more wine for myself and take a sip. “Nothing.”

“Waylon . . .” He’s still eyeing me.

“Justin is still not returning my calls.”

He frowns and then brings his glass to his lips, taking a drink. “I’ll do some digging after the holidays.”

I start to tell him not to bother—that I’m moving on—but I don’t get the words out. I’m too curious. I need to make sure he’s okay. I want to know what the hell he’s doing. Why he left. And Soren is a damn good reporter.

I just give him a nod before Grady hollers at us. We join everyone on the large sofa and start the game that most don’t take seriously but is really fun all the same. Because with this group—everything is fun.

Eventually.

Chapter Two

WAYLON

“Soren, what are you doing here?” I’m surprised to see my cousin show up at my office in Kansas City. The guy travels a lot between investigating stories and accompanying his boyfriend on the road. But that doesn’t mean it’s not good to see him.

“What? You didn’t miss me?” He feigns disappointment before he saunters into my office, and I close the door, turning to see he’s made himself at home in one of the comfortable chairs across from my desk. I make my way over to my chair, unbuttoning one button on my suit jacket before sitting down.

“Of course I did. But I didn’t expect you.”

He’s grinning wide, and I’m a little nervous about what he’s doing here even before he opens his mouth to tell me. “I found him.”

I sit there, stunned because there’s no way he’s talking about Justin. It’s been months since Christmas. It’s April. Not one word. Not one lead. Not one fan sighting. And I’d given up hassling poor Soren about it.

I thought he’d forgotten too.

“I did,” he says when I don’t say anything. “You know I’m good at what I do, and although it was tough, I did it.”

“Where is he?” I’m still in total disbelief.

“Tennessee.”

“What?” My brows shoot up to my hairline. He did not just say Tennessee.

Soren smirks. “Yup. Out in the middle of nowhere. I may have had someone track his spending.”

“Allegedly,” I add for him because that has to be illegal, but Soren has made quite a few friends in his line of work. Investigative journalists will stop at nothing to get the story.

“Right.” He smiles at me, but he doesn’t look worried in the slightest that I’ll call him out for his less than ethical practices. “Anyway, he must have had lots of cash on him or something because there was no use on any of his cards. But then he rented a cabin.”

“A cabin?” I stare at Soren in disbelief. “A goddamn cabin in the middle of nowhere Tennessee? That’s where Justin St. James has been?”

He shrugs. “I don’t really know where he’s been, but that’s where he is now.” He stands up from his seat. “I’ll text you the details.”

“Thank you,” I say numbly.

He gets up and walks to the door but then stops and turns to look at me. “Are you okay? I’ve never seen you act this way about a client before.”

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