Page 47 of Happily Never After

“Countless pieces of equipment. Client records. Boxes upon boxes of memories and reusable decorating materials. All gone.”

Mindy bent over and tugged something from the ashes. A charred remnant of a shoe broke apart in her hand. “The sparkly shoes,” she whispered mournfully. They had been in a display case in the office, a relic from Nicole’s proposal. All three girls had a matching pair. They had worn them all together at Nicole’s wedding, but now they never would again.

“The binders are at Luke’s house, right?” Nicole asked tentatively.

Claire nodded. “Thank god. Luckily we’re renting everything for Brad’s—oh my god.” She clapped a hand to her forehead.

“What?” Mindy asked sharply. Her green eyes narrowed.

“The saddle. From Karen’s childhood. It was in the office.”

They all turned toward the remains of the small rectangular room that used to be the office. There was nothing left, not even a splinter of wood from their desk. The one-of-a-kind saddle with hand-carved tooling and silver overlay that Brad had dug out of Karen’s parents’ storage locker was gone.

“Fuck.” Mindy’s hand fisted in her hair.

“He’s going to kill us.” Claire’s knees buckled. A high-pitched ringing buzzed incessantly in her ears as a scatter of black spots appeared over her vision. “I knew I should have kept it at the house. We’re so screwed.”

“Hey.” Nicole knelt next to her and gripped her arm. “Deep breaths. Come on.”

Claire’s head spun, and she fought for breath. She had pictures and itemized lists of everything in her inventory, but she never dreamed she would actually have to make an insurance claim on everything her business owned. This kind of loss was incalculable. And how long would it take to replace everything? To find a new space to rent?

There was so much left to plan this year. Luke’s documentary premiere alone was going to use half the things in her warehouse. And she had lost something irreplaceable. The panic was rising in her chest again, and the deep breaths she was forcing in weren’t helping.

“Do you think it was them? ESA?” Mindy whispered. She and Nicole tugged Claire back to her feet.

“It has to be.” Claire kicked a hunk of ash. The toe of her shoe grew warm. “They blew up my car last year. What’s to stop them from burning down my warehouse?”

“They’ll pay.” Mindy bent down and dug through the ash. A moment later, she pulled out the “Happily Ever Afters” sign.

Nicole dusted the sign off, but it was hopelessly singed. Black soot obscured the words, and the edges were charred from the heat. Claire took it from her and hugged it to her chest. It was too much. The rescue, her family being targeted, Brad’s proposal, living in LA, Barney’s sentencing. How much was one person supposed to take? How far could she bend before she shattered?

Nicole and Mindy stood on either side of her. They wrapped her in a tight hug. A stiff wind ripped through the skeleton of the warehouse, and ashes spiraled at their feet.

Mindy pulled back and held both of Claire’s arms. “Look at me,” she ordered.

Claire raised her eyes slowly like a sullen child.

“You are Claire Freakin’ Hartley. This is not the end of your story. This is a tiny, cowardly blip that someday we will laugh about when all of ESA is rotting in federal prison.”

Claire raised her eyebrows. “You really think law enforcement is going to bring down all of ESA? It’s impossible.”

“We don’t need all of ESA,” Mindy said, taking a step back. Her eyes were bright. “A cult without a leader is nothing. If we find the leader, everything else will crumble. That’s basically Cult Theory one-oh-one.”

Claire sighed. “Who’s to say there isn’t an equally power-hungry idiot who’s second in command? This may never be over. I’m going to have to move abroad.” Her Canada plan was looking more attractive by the minute. “Besides, we have no idea who’s in charge. The only person we know for sure is involved with ESA is Professor Taylor and he’s been missing for months.”

Nicole leaned in. “When we’re finished here, we’re going to stage a Code Purple and spruce up Murder Binder 3.0. We’re going to track down the professor, catch whoever’s in charge, stomp on his testicles, and then we’re going to burnhishouse down.”

Claire and Mindy stared at Nicole.

“Sorry, hormones. I stand by what I said, though.”

A car rolled into the parking lot behind them. Claire braced herself. Who was it going to be? An insurance claim adjuster? More cops? The press? Someone else who was going to ask questions that she didn’t have answers to?

Jack Hartley stepped lightly out of a nondescript black sedan. It must have been a work vehicle. His frown lines were extra pronounced today, but his salt-and-pepper hair was still perfectly molded into place. Between the hair and his well-tailored black suit, James Bond might as well have been walking into their midst.

Claire lifted one hand in a weak greeting.

“I came as soon as I heard. I’m so sorry, Claire.”

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