Page 15 of Ace

"You have my office number programmed into your phone?"

"We're very thorough," he says, his tone free of any emotion. "What can I help you with today?"

"I'm calling for an update," I say, nervously straightening things on my desk, just to have something to do with my free hand.

"We're working on the case, gathering intel."

"And Mr. Yarrow is in DC?"

"He is."

"You're not very forthcoming with information."

"We don't have much past what you already know, Ms. Preston."

He doesn't sound annoyed or even irritated to have to tell me this. I commend him for that because I'm getting on my own damn nerves.

"Thank you," I tell him.

"Ms.Preston?"

"Yes."

"I'll call if we find anything."

"Thank you," I manage again before dropping the receiver back into the cradle.

Tears burn the backs of my eyes, and I have to blink up at the ceiling to keep them from making mascara tracks down my cheeks.

I can't count the number of times that my sister has broken my heart or left me disappointed in her. She has a history of leaving a wake of chaos wherever she goes. It's why these weeks of silence are so loud. It's not Sadie's style. Instead of quiet, I'd expect her to give an interview on some damn morning talk show, laying out all the family secrets, no matter how it makes her look. For Sadie, there's no such thing as bad attention. If the spotlight is on her, then she's more than happy to just bask in the warmth of it. She never cared about other's opinions of her. She lived for herself and, in recent years, her addictions.

I could see the freedom in doing what she wants when she wants to do it with no care as to how it affects others, but she's also trapped in this vicious cycle of dependency.

I pick up the phone once again, knowing what I'll hear, but it's the only connection I have to her.

My heart seizes when the phone clicks, indicating she answered rather than it ringing five times to go to voicemail.

"Sadie?" I ask, a sob of relief clogging my throat.

"This ain't Sadie," a male voice growls.

"Who is this?" I snap. "Where's Sadie?"

"I don't know a fucking Sadie."

"This is her phone."

"This is my phone. I got this number the day before yesterday and sure as fuck wish you'd find that Sadie chick, so people would stop blowing up my phone."

He hangsup before I can say another word, and when I try and call the number back, it doesn't connect, not even to voicemail, telling me the number has been blocked.

Rage fills me as I dial my brother's number.

"Put William on the phone," I tell his assistant the second she answers the phone.

"Right away, Ms. Preston," she says, but I can hear the snarky tone in the way she says my last name.

"Cora, I'm busy," my brother says when he picks up.

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