Page 93 of A Secret to Die For

At least by getting on the twins’ nerves, Garrett’s goons had served some purpose. While they were distracted, we made it to the back door and escaped around the side of the house before Kayleigh and Lillian realised we were home, but I still wasn’t going to thank him for sending his spies after me.

We were almost back at Brooke’s apartment when Luca’s phone rang. I could only hear one side of the conversation, but it made my ears prick up.

“Last night? You’re certain it was the same man?” … “How long was he there for?” … “Did you speak to him?” … “Okay, okay.” … “Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll swing by to collect it in the next hour.”

“Well?” Blue asked the second he hung up.

“That was Nico. Our man showed up at the Peninsula again last night.”

“Do you mean Seth Harless?”

“Nico believes so. He took a better picture, and he kept a water glass with fingerprints.”

“Nice.”

“He got curious and spoke with him,” Luca said. “It was late, almost midnight, and Harless claimed he was taking a break on the way to pick up a friend from PDX.”

“While also establishing an alibi for the shooting. Convenient. I bet he was waiting around to collect his buddy after he’d done the deed.” Blue leaned back in the seat. “Damn, this case is frustrating. I can see a picture emerging, but it’s all circumstantial. There’s no actual evidence, nothing that’ll stand up in court. Sara’s parents went off the road: accident. Case closed. A guy tried to break into Sara’s house: burglary gone wrong. Case closed. The only thing that links them is Sara’s memories.”

It’s all in my head.

Which meant they were going to try and kill me again. They had no other choice.

32

GARRETT

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I want to drink myself into oblivion.”

And I’d done a pretty good job so far. The bottle of top-shelf liquor I’d picked up on the way from the airport was respectably empty.

“Suit yourself.” But Gracie sat down beside me anyway. “You look like shit.”

“I love you too. Want some?” I held out the Scotch.

“No, I do not. Did you really tackle a burglar with your bare hands and shoot him with his own gun?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“TikTok.”

“It’s bullshit. It wasn’t nearly that dramatic.”

“Then why are you so upset? Is it the girl? The one you asked me to make the dance shoes for? They’re almost finished.”

I couldn’t stay in Oregon any longer, not when Saralisa refused to have anything to do with me, not when I wanted to punch my brother in the mouth every time I saw him, and not when I wanted to line Seth Harless up in my sights and pull the trigger. If I’d stayed at home, I would have ended up doing something I regretted. There were only two people I trusted to have my back in this situation, and the idea of flying to Europe to hang out with Johannes and half a dozen naked debutantes filled me with as much joy as a root canal, so I’d hired the best personal protection team money could buy, told them not to let Saralisa out of their sight, and headed to New York.

Gracie lived in Tribeca, in a loft that she’d decorated in an eclectic mix of antique and modern. An ornate glass lamp cast a glow over a wooden rocking chair. A MacBook sat on a leather-topped writing desk. The only bed occupied a low platform at the far end of the cavernous room, beside a bathroom with glass-brick walls. Kind of awkward when one of us was showering. Usually, it didn’t matter to Gracie because she hated houseguests. This was her personal space, hers and hers alone. I’d be sleeping on the couch tonight.

“Yeah, it’s the girl.”

Despite claiming I didn’t want to discuss it, I found myself spilling the details. Not the intimate ones, just the bare facts. Gracie was no Trey. She wouldn’t go broadcasting our conversation to the enemy, and I hoped that by talking to her, she’d be able to offer a woman’s perspective on how I could win Saralisa back.

“So let me get this straight… You fell in love with a girl and she trusted you with her darkest secrets. And rather than respecting her privacy, you went behind her back and hired an investigator to delve into her past?”

“It sounds so much worse when you say it out loud.”

---