Page 56 of Mountain Challenge

He put up a barrier in his mind and took a deep breath. He was going to pass out if he continued this way. He wouldn’t be any use to anyone—least of all, to Isla and her friend. If Beau saw just how scrambled his mind was, he’d take him off the case. And Ry couldn’t allow that to happen.

As if conjured by Ry’s thoughts, Beau stepped out from the bedroom. Ry had looked inside while he waited for the police. The bed was made, and it didn’t look like it’d been disturbed. His stomach clenched. Thank God for small mercies, though that didn’t mean anything. Again, his mind threatened to drag him into the darkness.

“Isla’s assistant just arrived,” Beau said, his voice calm but firm. “I’m going downstairs to speak with him.”

“I’ll come with you,” Ry said quickly. He needed to do something—couldn’t stay in this crowded living room a second longer.

They walked downstairs into the tattoo studio, where all the lights had been turned on. Alain paced the outside reception area. His normally well-groomed hair stood on end, as if he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. He looked distraught, and then hopeful as he caught sight of Ry.

“Ry. What’s going on? Where’s Isla? Is it true she’s disappeared?”

Ry forced himself to relax his clenched fists. “We have a few questions, Alain. This is Commandant Beau Fontaine.”

“Of course. Anything,” the young man said nervously. There went that hand through his hair again.

“What time did you leave the studio today?”

“Two p.m. I know because I was meeting my girlfriend for lunch. Isla had already left.”

“And what time did you get back?”

“Just before three. I had an appointment at that time.”

Beau stepped closer. “Do you know what Isla had scheduled for the afternoon?”

“Nothing,” Alain said. “She was keeping the afternoons free this week because of her friend’s visit. Laura. Where is she? Is Laura missing too?”

Ry studied him for a beat before replying. The man’s angst seemed sincere enough.

“They’re both missing. I’m going to need access to Isla’s schedule,” he prodded gently.

Alain nodded, quickly logging into the computer. He looked glad to have something to do. “Here it is. You can see she didn’t have any appointments this afternoon. Look. This was my three o’clock appointment. And I locked up at five.”

“We’re going to need the contact details of your three o’clock appointment,” Ry said, moving forward to note down the name before Alain had a chance to refuse.

“I don’t understand. How could this happen?”

Ry clenched his teeth to stop himself from lashing out. He’d never felt like this. So close to losing control. He was usually calmest when under pressure. Like before a competition. It was one of his superpowers. But the tightness in his heart right now … it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Isla was gone, and there was nothing he could do.No. There’s lots I can do. We’re fucking doing it. We’re going to get her back.

As if sensing how close Ry was to unraveling, Beau stepped in. “Did you see anything unusual when you left, Alain? How did Isla seem to you?”

“No, nothing. She was acting normal. Happy, I guess. She and Laura were going to cook dinner.” The young man’s eyes narrowed. A guarded look appeared on his face. The first one since this interview began.He’s looking suspiciously at me. As if I might have hurt Isla.Ry forced his jaw to unclench. Alain was telling the truth. Because nobody was such a good actor. This man was hurting.

“I would never hurt her, Alain,” Ry said gently.

Alain sputtered for an instant, then relaxed his expression. “I know. I’m sorry. I just … tell me how I can help.”

“Does Isla owe anyone money?” That question came from Vincent, who’d come downstairs without Ry even noticing. That was how far gone he was.

“What? Money? No, of course not. The studio’s doing better every month. I help with the books, so I know.” Alain’s shoulders went way back, as if insulted by Vincent’s question.

“He has to ask, Alain. We have to cover every possible avenue of inquiry,” Ry said very formally. But he knew Isla, knew her more intimately than anyone, and he agreed with Alain. This wasn’t about money. But he knew Vincent had to check into it. He’d have his hands on those books and on all of Isla’s accounts by the end of the night.

“I’m sorry,” Alain said, his anger deflating. “The first few months were hard, I know, even though Isla always paid my salary. But now we have a steady client base, and it’s going well. The holidays also help. People get lots of tattoos during the holidays.” Ry was only half-listening by now, but he didn’t want to interrupt. “We have a special catalogue of seasonal tattoos. And even some weather-related ones. Isla brings them out when appropriate. Just this morning, she brought out our rain catalogue. It’s full of raindrops, little umbrellas, and—” Alain’s voice cut off.

“What?” Ry asked, looking up. “What were you going to say?”

Alain’s hand traced that by now familiar route through his hair. “It’s silly. But there was a car outside, with the lights on, when I went out for lunch. It caught my attention because there was nobody in the car. It was raining, and I thought of how disappointed the owner was going to be when they got back if the battery died.”

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