Page 187 of Without a Trace
The bathroom empty. No robe. No wet footprints on the tile.
A slow dread unfurled down my spine.
I stepped back into the main room, pulse starting to rise.
I moved faster than I meant to, straight out the door and toward the others.
The villa’s quiet smirked at me. Something was off. I could feel it. Hear it in the stillness.
When I reached the kitchen, Kane and Rhett were already halfway through breakfast.
“She with you?” I asked.
They both looked up. Blank expressions, blinking slow.
Rhett’s brow creased. “Should she be?”
“No,” Kane said slowly. “She’s not.” The silence that followed hit harder than I expected.
I looked toward Zeke, who was sitting at the far end of the table, fingers laced around a cup of black coffee.
“You saw her,” I said.
He nodded once. “She came to the villa last night.”
“You didn’t think to fucking mention that?”
“She came to my villa—looking for me.” he said, calm as stone. “But Brielle was already there. Scarlett saw her, asked to speak to her alone and I let them.”
“Why the hell was Brielle in your room?” Kane asked, straightening his chair.
Zeke didn’t look away. “She showed up. She wasn’t supposed to stay. Scarlett walked in—and they decided to talk.”
“And you let that happen?” My voice scraped raw. “You just let them leave?”
“She didn’t tell me she was leaving. Just that she needed answers.”
I dragged both hands through my hair, pacing a short, jagged line.
I stared at him. “You don’t know where they went?”
He shook his head once. “No.”
I turned away, dragging both hands down my face. My pulse was spiking now, pounding against my ribs like it knew something I didn’t.
“She didn’t leave a note?” Rhett asked, already moving toward the hallway.
“She didn’t leave a fucking thing,” I snapped.
“She’s not dumb,” Kane said. “She must’ve had a reason.”
“She had a reason,” I muttered, grabbing my jacket off the back of a chair. “She just didn’t trust us with it.”
Rhett stepped closer. “Where are you going?”
“To find her.”
“Trace—”
