Page 202 of Perfect Pitch

After I ensure the elevator can’t return to the ground level, I call Kane and order the fire escape to be secured.

The brackets around Beckett’s mouth tighten when I reach for the drink he’s extending in my direction. “To answer your unasked question, no. It wasn’t an easy day. At least not for me.”

I roll the bottle between my hands. “Want to talk about it?”

To my surprise, he does. He informs me of what Austyn said. He tips his head back and I spy his latest tattoo. “Over and over, I think about what she said. And she’s right. I wouldn’t give it up for Paige, and I know I couldn’t give up music for my daughter. What kind of bastard does that make me?”

“Human?”

A snuffle of sound escapes his lips. “Thanks.”

“There’s something I’ve learned about your daughter, Beckett. She wasn’t saying those things to hurt you.”

“You don’t think so?”

“She was saying them so you stopped hurting yourself.” The older man pauses with his beer most of the way to his lips. I go on. “Just like she’s tried to do to me since she gave me the details in North Carolina about what happened with the hit and run. I know—I damn well know she was running because I hurt her, but still, she blames herself.”

“And the stalker is due to my career and has fixated on Austyn, so she brought the issue to light.”

“What she doesn’t need is for the shoulder she leans on to crumble.” I finish my beer and set my bottle on the table.

“When did you get so smart, Clifton?” Beckett contemplates.

That answer’s easy. “At Redemption. When I looked into your daughter’s eyes and realized I was saving your life for her and giving up my future.”

Beckett’s eyes drop to the coffee table for just a moment. He pushes to his feet in a fluid motion. “Come on. I’ve put you in the room next to Austyn.”

My brows shoot so far up my head, I’m afraid my hair is going to catch in them. “You’re joking.”

“Time is too precious for any of us to waste, Mitch. I think you know that.”

* * *

CHAPTER NINETY-NINE

Are there any secrets you’d die to know? I have a list and they have nothing to do with who killed Kennedy.

—StellaNova

We’ve been back two days and I’m no closer to figuring out who destroyed Austyn’s home than I was when her plane touched down. In fact, I have more unanswered questions than clues. I’m working on the executive floor at Hudson at Keene’s behest. Keene grumbled, “To stop any fucking leaks. The last thing I need right now is Beckett Miller up my ass,” when he threw open the conference door for me to use.

I’m using the electronic whiteboard to draw out a timeline of everything I know from the time Austyn met her father forward. I stare at it and frown. “I’m missing something. I know it.”

That couldn’t be more clear after the phone call Keene told me about. Senator Wade contacted Hudson to let us know Zandra was back in the facility. “Full time. They won’t let her out until or unless I, personally, sign her out,” he said.

“That’s good to know, Senator,” Keene barked.

“There’s just one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“The person who signed her out claimed to be me.” And when he gave us the dates she’d been removed, he was very clearly on CSPAN.

He’d provided proof she’d returned—as per the court agreement he’d reached with Beckett Miller’s legal team. The bug up my ass isn’t that she’s gone. It’s that her return to the institution wouldn’t have allowed her to be involved with the hit and run in Seven Virtues since it was the same day at an earlier time.

When he shared the information with me and Kane, I’m certain every bone in my spine cracked.

I’m contemplating asking Kane to loop in his “not-Sam” friend to see if we can get some data back when Charlie comes through the conference room door. I give him some side-eye before I remark, “You have some brass ones coming in here.”

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