Page 67 of My Escort (A Different Kind of Escort)

“No. I’ve had no contact with Glenn Stillwell since I left.”

He looks at me for a long time as if waiting for me to say more.

I decide to break the silence with my curiosity. “You mentioned his sister reported him missing.”

“Yes. Hannah Jordan. You know her?”

“No. I didn’t know he had a sister.”

He taps the pen against the pad of paper. “They have different fathers. They weren’t close, but she said they’d see each other every few years. She reached out to him six months ago. When he didn’t get back to her, she decided to pay him a visit. Said his home looked like no one had been there in months.”

“Months?”

“Yes. Months.” He rests his arms on the table and stares at me for a few more uncomfortable seconds. “Do you know a man by the name of Al Parks?”

“No. Who is he?”

“He’s an acquaintance of Mr. Stillwell. Do you know if Mr. Stillwell was in any trouble with anyone?”

“Not that I can think of, but to be honest, I don’t know much about Glenn. We only dated for a few months. I know he was into real estate. He always seemed to have money. He never talked about his family. He told me his mom was dead, he never knew his father, and never mentioned a sister, or Al Parks, for that matter. I’m sorry. I wish I could help you more.”

“There’s no one you can think of that would want to hurt Mr. Stillwell?”

Besides me?

Or any other victim he may have had before me?

Or Brett?

“No.” I blink away the thought. He’d never… “I can’t think of anyone.”

Shit! His watchful eyes might’ve caught my hesitance.

“Okay, well. Thank you for your time, Miss Redmon.” He reaches into his pocket and hands me a card. “Please call if you can think of anything else.”

“I will.” I take the card, stand, and walk him to the door.

He enters the hall and turns around with the pad still in his hand. “Who was that man, who was here earlier?”

“My contractor.”

“Yes. What’s his name, again?”

“Brett.” I swallow. “Daxon. He owns Daxon Construction.”

“Did Mr. Daxon know Mr. Stillwell?”

“Not that I’m aware of. I only met Mr. Daxon two months ago when he bid on the job for my company’s new site here in Florida.”

“Thank you again, Miss Redmon.” He waves the pad. “You have a good day.”

“You too, Mr. Sharpe.” I close the door.

My feet move me to the sofa. I drop into it.

Months. Glenn has been missing for months. What if…?

I place my hand on my chest over my heart. No. Brett wouldn’t.

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