Page 31 of Husband Missing

“But maybe one of her accomplices thought there was something in this box that needed to be retrieved?” Trinity suggested. “Even though it’s been years since Lila went to prison and died and she clearly never gave up anyone?”

“Maybe.” A fresh wave of fatigue hit Josie hard. The lack of sleep, the monumental effort of keeping her panic about Noah’s abduction at bay, and now the horrifying possibility that maybe Lila Jensen wasn’t done with her yet—even from beyond the grave—was overloading her, clouding her mind again. “I don’t know, but I need to call Heather Loughlin.”

TWENTY-TWO

ONE WEEK AGO

Holden kept one arm around Bug’s waist as they approached the house. It was massive and pretentious as hell. Tall white pillars held up a rounded portico. Statues of roaring lions sat on either side of a pair of heavy double doors. The façade was stone, giving it the appearance of a home built in the late 1700s or early 1800s when, in fact, it had been erected only ten years ago. Bug had done her research. As they reached the door, she could hear music blaring from inside. Two cameras mounted over the doors pointed down at them. Holden’s fingers dug into her hip. He was way more nervous than she anticipated. Goosebumps erupted over her arms. For the first time since she’d set her plan in motion, she wondered if she was underestimating the potential risk.

Holden leaned down to whisper in her ear. His breath already stank of beer. “You sure about this?”

Bug turned her head and smiled at him. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

His usual smirk was gone. Concern blanketed his face. When she realized it was genuine, the feeling of phantom insects crawling all over her skin made her shiver. Since she’d maneuvered her way into his life, he’d gone overboard tryingto seduce her, putting on this bad-boy-with-a-secret-heart-of-gold act, always overly charming and confident. Like a used car salesman, except he was trying to sell her a fantasy so he could get into her pants. But she had always known he was using her. That was fine. She was using him, too. It made it easier if there were no real feelings between them.

Bug didn’t like these cracks in his veneer.

Before Holden could answer her question, the doors swung open. A man in jeans and a tight black T-shirt nodded a greeting at them. Then his eyes dragged over Bug from head to foot and back again in a slow appraisal that left no doubt about the lewd thoughts churning in his mind. The invisible crawling insects darted over her skin like they were in a race to escape certain doom.

“Hey, Holden,” said the man without taking his eyes off Bug’s legs. “Who’s this?”

Holden pressed her more tightly against his side. “She’s with me.”

The man smiled like it was some kind of joke. “Right.”

“I mean it,” Holden said, an edge to his voice. She recognized it as the one he used when he was about to punch a hole into the nearest wall.

“Whatever you say, man.” Pervy bouncer guy laughed and held out a box filled with cell phones.

Reluctantly, Bug handed hers over to Holden so he could deposit it inside. He’d told her that guests had to turn in their devices at the door. It was a condition of admittance, ensuring nothing that happened at the parties ended up on the internet. Holden had also insisted she bring the smallest purse possible—it fit only her phone, ID and a lip gloss. He’d checked. She touched her necklace and tried not to think about how powerless she felt without her phone.

Pervy bouncer guy zeroed in on her again, ogling her in a way that made her feel violated even though there were several feet between them. “Come find me later, honey.”

Bug stumbled as Holden pushed her forward, over the threshold and into a foyer bigger than all the apartments she’d ever lived in. Open-mouthed, she took in the details. A sprawling hardwood staircase, marble flooring, a big-ass fancy chandelier, six-figure art that looked like a first-grader painted it, tacky sculptures of half-dressed women. The only thing missing was a fountain.

Her fists flexed involuntarily. Anger chased away the creepy-crawlies, leaving burning hot ash in its wake. She knew what she was walking into and yet, the reality of it felt so much worse. It made her want to tear someone’s head off. What she intended to do didn’t seem like nearly enough. She deserved more. She deserved blood. There was no getting that tonight, though. Even though she wanted to take a sledgehammer to every person and object in this house, she had to stick to her plan. Through gritted teeth, she sucked in a long breath. If she didn’t stay calm, she would blow it.

Forcing an awestruck smile onto her face, Bug leaned into Holden’s embrace. “Whose house is this?”

She already knew, of course. When he told her, she asked a question she didn’t know the answer to. “Is he here tonight?”

Holden frowned. “Why? You want to meet him?”

Crap. He hadn’t answered the question. She’d have to take charge. Now that she was so close to her goal, she just wanted to get it over with. This place gave her the creeps.

Bug knew exactly what kind of evil lurked within its luxurious walls.

“I thought you said he was cool.” She stepped away from Holden and tugged at his hand, pulling him in the direction ofthe music. “It sounds like he throws a pretty awesome party. Come on, I want to meet everyone.”

He pushed his hand through his hair. “Sure, yeah. Just remember, stay close.”

TWENTY-THREE

Detective Heather Loughlin dipped her chin and peered at Josie over the top of her reading glasses. Her notepad lay on Josie’s kitchen table, open to a blank page. The cap of her pen tapped against her bottom lip. In all the time they’d known one another, Josie had never noticed this small habit. Then again, she’d never been on the receiving end of an interview.

In the time it had taken Heather to arrive, Shannon and Trinity had managed to put the kitchen back in some semblance of order. Enough that Josie and Heather could sit at the table like civilized people while the state police evidence techs worked in the garage to photograph and process Lila’s trophy box. Shannon had suggested tea, which Josie initially turned down, until she realized she could use another jolt of caffeine if she was going to get through the next hour.

“Here you go.” Shannon set two mugs on the table between them. Next, she produced a kettle—an electric one by the look of it—that Josie didn’t even know they owned. After pouring steaming water into each cup, Shannon opened a box of tea bags. “All you had was oolong. I hope that’s okay.”

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