Page 73 of Unravel You

“Okay. What about your new friend Rebecca?”

“She helped Valentina get in here to get the money Alex asked for.”

“There was only four thousand dollars in the safe. How did she get the rest of the money?” I stood, looming over her small frame on the chair across from me. Her hands trembled, and I felt like an asshole for pushing her like this, but I needed the truth, the whole story.

“Rebecca gave her the rest of the money.”

I banged my hand on the desk, and Ana’s body jerked in surprise. “And she just happened to have that amount of cash in her purse?”

“She has way more than that.”

Carrying cash would make sense if she was running away from someone. She helped Valentina because Valentina had been kind enough to invite her to the engagement party. What I still didn’t understand was why she couldn’t just show up to the house and ask for Tyler or Matt. Why the charade? Why pretend she was a family friend? Had Bridget put her up to it? To gain Valentina’s trust? That seemed unlikely. Bridget didn’t even know Rebecca existed. I didn’t know of her until last night when Tyler and Matt asked me to let her stay.

“Get her in here. If she wants to stay in this house, she’s going to have to tell me the truth.”

Ana nodded and stood. “I’m worried about Valentina too. But you have to believe she can handle herself. She’s not the defenseless little thing you think she is.”

I dipped my head. “I don’t think she’s defenseless.”

“If she had come to you with Alex’s note, would you have let her go?”

“Of course not. Max was safe at home. She just didn’t have the right number to call to ask that question.” I said that last bit mostly to myself.

“She didn’t know that. She called them and couldn’t get through. She couldn’t take the risk and call his bluff.” Her tone was decisive. “Stop looking for who to blame and give them the money they want.”

“I’m working on that. I don’t have the kind of cash they’re asking for just lying around. I don’t give a shit about the money. I care about her spending another minute with that asshole.” I swallowed my tears when my voice cracked. “I’ll have the ransom in the morning. I want her home now.”

“I’ll go get Rebecca. Maybe Valentina told her something we can use to figure out where she was taken.”

When Ana opened the door, Mom stood behind it with our housekeeper next to her. Iris was in tears, while Mom’s face was red with anger. “For fuck’s sake, stop crying and tell him what you told me.”

“I swear I didn’t know what the note was for. Bridget asked me to leave it where Valentina would find it. I had no idea.” Iris wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

“Sit down.” I fisted my hands and tapped my desk. If Iris were a guy, I’d be beating the truth out of him.

With a quick glance at Mom, she entered the room and sat in the chair Ana had just vacated. “A few days ago, I ran into Bridget at the grocery store. She seemed so nice and proper. Um, she mentioned she was a family friend. We got talking, and then she invited me to lunch.”

In all the time I’d known Bridget, not once had she gone to a grocery store. She had people to do that for her. If she ran into Iris, it was because she followed her there. I sat and gestured for Iris to continue. The how or why didn’t matter anymore. I needed a lead that was more meaningful than a black sedan leaving Krog Street Market.

“She mostly asked about Derek.” Her gaze darted from me to Ana, then back to me. “Which, you know, made sense. She told me about the divorce.”

This was a new low for Bridget. Telling sob stories to make friends. Where did all this come from? Why did she hate me this much?

“What did she want to know?” Ana stepped closer to her, as if ready to shield her from my wrath.

I was done being angry. Valentina’s absence had taken a toll on me. I was beyond tired.

“If he was happy.” Iris shrugged. “I told her I didn’t know. I thought maybe she wanted to reconcile.”

Iris didn’t know my story with Bridget. And Bridget knew that. Ours had been a sort of marriage of convenience, where love never really played into the equation. I let Bridget manage my company and by extension my life. She, in return, embezzled money from my company. If I hadn’t sent her to jail before, it was because I felt guilty for how our marriage had turned out.

I left her alone all the time. I did nothing but work. We never had any romantic feelings for each other. But that didn’t stop Bridget from feeling as if she owned everything that came with the marriage deal—the company, the money, and me. Her gambling addiction and the influence of her lover at the time didn’t help matters. More than a jail cell, Bridget needed psychiatric help. None of this would be happening if she’d stayed in the rehab center where she went right after our divorce.

“Bridget was not interested in reconciliation. She wanted more money.”

“I’m so sorry. I thought she wanted to talk to Valentina and explain things to her. Ask her to maybe step aside and let you —”

“Stop talking.” I rose to my feet. I didn’t need to know the rest. Bridget had obviously fed Iris some sob story with a romantic twist she knew would get Iris to help her. “Just tell me if you know where she is, where she might’ve taken Valentina.”

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