Page 48 of Torment

Beck frowned. “I don’t think you’re listening to me at all.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, no, I am listening, and I’m more than capable of reading between the lines. Clearly, you think I have something to do with her disappearance. It’s utterly absurd.”

“Well, I do find it strange that you claim to be friends with Jolie, but none of her other friends can confirm that. You also happened to buy the house across the road from her only a few months after she moved to the city, but none of the other neighbors remember seeing Jolie going over there to visit you, let alone seeing her with you at any point. Then there’s the phantom note you claim to have received to explain why you were in her apartment with her pet fish that day—a note which no one can actually prove the existence of. Lastly, there’s the fact that a neighbor thinks Jolie had a stalker. It all seems to add up to something, doesn’t it?”

“It adds up to a pile of coincidences, yes.”

Beck was silent for a few seconds. “Do you remember when we first ran into each other?” she asked.

“Yes, I recall our first meeting,” I said in an acid tone.

“So you remember how I told you I called a colleague to confirm that you were the one who infiltrated the Path of the Covenant cult?”

“Uh-huh,” I replied, struggling to see where the hell she was going with this new line of questioning.

“I didn’t call a colleague. I actually called my wife.”

I arched an eyebrow. “I had no idea you were married to a woman.”

“Well, usually, the details of my private life aren’t anyone’s business but my own, but in this case I felt compelled to share it with you. You see, my wife was at New Eden. She’s a few years older than Jolie. Between the ages of ten and twenty-one, she was trapped there with the rest of them.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Detective,” I said sincerely. “It was an awful place.”

“Yes, it was. She very rarely talks about it—that’s why I wasn’t aware of your part in the takedown of the cult until I asked her—but when she does, it’s because she’s had some sort of terrible flashback or panic attack. The men in that cult were sick, twisted bastards.”

“I’m aware of that. May I ask why you’re telling me this?” I said, knitting my brows.

“I’m telling you because I want you to know where I stand. I think people who use their strength, power, and money to kidnap and abuse others are the lowest, scummiest pieces of shit on the planet. If I think someone on my radar is involved with something like that, I won’t drop it until I’m either proved wrong or they’re put away for good.”

I smiled again. “As I said earlier, I’m glad Jolie has someone like you looking out for her. I’m sure you’ll realize you’re wrong about me very soon, and you’ll be able to drop this line of inquiry and stop wasting time. Yours and mine.”

She leaned forward again. “Officially speaking, Mr. Ashwood, you aren’t a suspect. There’s nothing but circumstantial evidence surrounding this case, and a few things that could very well amount to nothing but coincidence. But unofficially… I’ve got my eye on you. I want you to know that.”

“Don’t worry, I’m well aware, based on everything you’ve said,” I replied, keeping my tone calm and measured. I stood up. “I think we’re done here. Given your attitude toward me, you can call my lawyer next time you want to have another chat.”

“Sure. Don’t leave town.”

I clenched my jaw. “You can’t prove I have anything to do with any of this, and I’m not under arrest for anything, so I actually have the right to leave town and go wherever the fuck I want, if that’s what I choose to do.”

I wished I could take back the words as soon as they flew out of my mouth. In my mind, there was nothing more guilt-solidifying than a person under suspicion saying ‘you can’t prove it’. Fortunately for me, it was true. Beck didn’t have anything solid against me, or I’d be an official suspect.

“I’ll be seeing you, Mr. Ashwood,” she said in a cold voice.

I didn’t reply.

I strode out of the station, hands clenched angrily by my side. The smarmy detective was clearly going to be a problem for me at some point. I’d have to come up with a plan to deal with her.

It was a nasty day outside. Trees swayed in the howling wind, branches threatening to break off onto the sidewalk, and heavy raindrops pounded my car as I sat inside it, checking my messages. I had a couple from a private investigator I recently hired, telling me that he’d landed in Kentucky and would be heading out to the site Jolie told me about very soon.

I was originally planning on going myself, but I wound up deciding against it this morning. I figured it would be better to get a professional to scope out the place first and confirm there was even anything there before I wasted my time heading out of state, in case Jolie turned out to be totally full of shit.

I started the car and headed out of the city. Halfway through the boring journey, I turned on the radio, hoping for some decent music to distract me from the shitty day I’d had so far. Instead, there was some sort of news and weather segment playing.

“Looks like these storms aren’t going to let up anytime soon. Some minor flooding has been reported in parts of Terrebonne Parish, and power outages have been reported all over St. James Parish,” the presenter was saying. “There’s also been several serious road incidents due to low visibility. Please be careful out there, people.”

I frowned at the mention of outages. I had a backup generator set up in the lake house in case the power went out, but it took a few seconds to kick in. That meant there was the tiniest chance that Jolie could get out of her cell if she moved fast enough. I knew it was practically impossible, but I wanted to check anyway, just for peace of mind.

Lightning streaked across the gray sky in front of me as I abruptly pulled over on the edge of the road. I grabbed my phone and opened my tracking app. The red dot that represented Jolie seemed to be in the right place.

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