Page 6 of Trouble Walked In

She paused and looked at Nate. “Your wife called. She told me to tell you to get moving.”

Nate laughed. “She did not. But I take your point.”

Nate stood slowly and patted him on the arm. “This is a good offer for both of us. Think on it, will you? We need a yes by the time Della’s tour launches so we can push the marketing.”

“Understood.” Renic walked with him to the door. “Thanks for stopping by, Nate. Say hi to Brenda for me.”

Morgan stepped aside to let the man by, and they both watched him get on the elevator. Once the doors slid shut and Renic was sure they could no longer be heard, he rounded on Morgan.

“What did you find out?”

Morgan wiggled her phone at him. “There’s been a couple of fan sightings. Look at this.”

She tapped on her phone then spun it around to show Renic an image of Della in a black cocktail dress in line at a Starbucks.

He thought she looked tired, and her makeup was smudged in a way he didn’t like, but otherwise she seemed okay. “Where’s this?”

“This one’s tagged Scranton, Pennsylvania.” She dragged her finger across the screen until another image appeared of a red sedan in a McDonald’s drive-through. “And this is Binghamton, New York.”

The picture was blurry, but he could make out Della’s wavy blonde hair in the backseat. He squinted at it but couldn’t see anything more significant than that she was eating junk food. “She’s heading north. How long ago was this taken?”

“It’s time stamped 2:13.” Morgan took her phone back and stared at the picture. “Where the hell is she going? I mean, the only thing up that way is Syracuse and the Canadian border.”

A flash of relief that Della had been spotted alive and well was followed by a flicker of unease. He knew exactly where Della had gone, and it made perfect sense. He just wished she'd gone to Canada instead. “Not Syracuse. Seneca Lake.”

Morgan frowned. “Seneca Lake? What’s she going there for?”

He should have realized sooner where a twenty-eight-year-old, upset girl would go for comfort. Most people her age ran home, but Della’s father and mother were both dead. If she wanted comfort, she’d find it in the arms of her older sister. “She’s gone to see Lizzie.”

Morgan looked surprised. “I thought she was still in the city.”

He shook his head. “She moved upstate after her marriagewent south three years ago, right after their dad died. Bought a little bed-and-breakfast on the lake. This complicates things. Do me a favor, shoot the address to Belhurst Castle over to Jordanna and have her head that way. It’s a long drive. The sooner she gets there the better. I’d go myself but I don’t think that’s the right move.”

Morgan tapped the address into her phone, then dialed a number on her way to the door. “Got it. Don’t worry, boss. If anybody can talk her down, it’s Jordanna.”

“Hope so. Tell her to keep me posted. And keep an eye on the social media.”

Relief untied the growing knot in his stomach. Della was safe in upstate New York with her sister. Jordanna could be there by morning, giving her the entire weekend to convince Della to come back to work.

With any luck, Della would return in time to do the morning shows next week, and the launch after that. He wouldn’t have to chase after her and risk running into Lizzie.

He paced back to the window and stared out at the darkening sky without really seeing it. The last time he’d seen Lizzie, she’d been full of spit and vinegar, and so angry at him for the way he’d helped Della step out as a solo artist that her velvet brown eyes had turned nearly black.

He still remembered the exact words she’d used that day. She’d spoken in a low tone so full of repressed rage that it had sent chills up his spine.

You destroyed my family. I hope you find out what that feels like someday, and I hope you choke on that business of yours, you Self Evident asshole.

Chapter Three

After two long days and nights filled with arguments and tears and very little sleep, Lizzie slapped the alarm off, her eyes still closed against the too-bright sunlight. It had been two days since Della showed up on her doorstep. Two long, irritating days, during which she’d had to handle the last of the reunion event, the never-ending plumbing situation that seemed to escalate by the hour, and her sister’s drama. Day three had to be better, because she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.

Lizzie turned on her side and suppressed the urge to hip check her sister out of bed. When Della had arrived late Friday, there weren’t any empty rooms to spare, and she hadn’t had the heart to send her to the Budget Inn down the street. Della had spent the first night in the guest bedroom of the Carriage House, Lizzie’s private residence behind the main house.

Then astonishingly early on Saturday morning, Della’s long-suffering manager, Jordanna Farrington, had arrived looking like a cool retro aunt in boots and leggings, with herlong hair in braids and bright orange lipstick. It hadn’t surprised Lizzie that Jordanna followed Della. It had surprised her that Jordy hadn’t managed to jump into the carwithDella.

Jordanna spent the entire day trying various persuasion tactics to convince Della to go back to work. By midnight, it was obvious Della wasn’t listening, and it was too late to send Jordanna to the Budget Inn, so now the woman was in Della’s former room, and Della was sharing Lizzie’s bed, and nothing had been sorted out.

Her quaint, peaceful stone cottage was now crowded and angsty. She loved her home because she stepped into a fairy tale every time she walked through the front door. It was so far removed from the dizzy business of her former life that it was hard to believe it had ever been real.

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