Page 186 of Without a Trace
Not the way she said it—flat, unflinching, not flirtatious. Just… honest.
“You’re dangerous,” she added. “But you’re not reckless. There’s a difference.”
I sat there, thrown. Because even though she was technically an enemy, all smug smiles and sin—I didn’t hate her.
That was the problem.
She was too sharp, too bold, too something.
And I understood her more than I wanted to admit.
We rode the rest of the way in silence, but it wasn’t empty. It was loaded.
Across the water, the inlet came into view. A thin ribbon of land. Trees. A hangar tucked beneath the canopy like it had always been waiting.
Brielle pulled a hood up over her hair as the plane came into view. Compact. Sleek. Gray enough to vanish in clouds.
Not a soul in sight.
They were ready for us.
And I stood there, heart pounding too fast to feel steady, staring at the plane like it already knew what it was carrying.
This wasn’t just a visit.
It was a reckoning.
Trace
Itook the long way to her villa.
Figured she’d be dragging this morning—head pounding, mouth dry, probably half-buried in blankets still wearing someone else’s shirt.
Sunlight was filtering through the trees in ribbons, soft and harmless. The island didn’t feel different. But something was.
Her door was cracked.
I knocked once and leaned into the frame, waiting for a groggy “go away” or something worse.
Nothing.
“Scarlett?” I called, quieter.
Still nothing.
My frown deepened as I stepped onto the porch. I angled toward the window and cupped a hand to the glass. The room inside was still wrapped in shadows. Curtains drawn. Lights off.
That wasn’t like her.
I opened the door wider, half-expecting to find her passed out on the couch or maybe in the bath again. But the place was still. Undisturbed.
It took me a second to realize what felt wrong.
I walked the perimeter. Checked the bedroom. Nothing. The bathroom—dry. Not a single drip from the faucet. No smudge of makeup on the counter.
No robe hanging on the hook. Patio—empty.
No clothes on the floor. No towel from the bath. No scent of her perfume or coffee or whatever candle she lit before bed.
