He ran a hand through his hair. For a moment, he looked younger than his years. Lost. “Miremont.”
“Why would she go there? I thought her father sold it.”
Bas’ brow furrowed. “That’s what she told me too.”
Press was typing something on his phone. “That’s what I’d heard too,” he muttered. “But Baron didnotsell it. It’s still one of the Van Orr Corp’s holdings.”
“That motherfuckingsonuvabitch,” Bas said under his breath. “He lied to her about it?” He turned to his father, who nodded.
“I’ve heard rumors that Baron kept the property. Let it go dormant. Closed the winery and fired the staff,” said Thomas. “But I never confirmed it because it wasn’t my business…” His eyes met mine. “I’d be willing to bet this entire place—the winery, the vineyards, all of it—that’s where he took her.”
“Where is it?”
“Let’s go!” I shouted, racing toward the door.
“Hold on, son,” said the sheriff, blocking my way. “Let’s think about how we’re going to approach this.”
“The fuck I will.” I tried to get around him, but Press grabbed my arm.
Thomas shook his head. “You have to understand something about Baron Van Orr. I’ve known him for forty years. We were best friends before things went wrong between us. And in all that time, I’ve never seen him admit he was wrong about anything. Not once.”
“I don’t give a damn about his psychology,” I snapped.
“You should. Because it’s the key to predicting what else he’ll do.” Thomas rested his hands on the desk in front of him. “Baron has always believed he knows what’s best for Isabel. He’s spent her whole life controlling her—her money, her choices—Baron had a hand in all of it. And when she stepped out of line, he punished her. Not with violence. With withdrawal. With silence and money. With the constant reminder that his love was conditional on her obedience.”
I thought about Isabel’s face when she’d talked about her father. The way she flinched at kindness because she’d learned to expect there’d be strings attached. The way she ran from love because she’d been taught that staying meant getting hurt.
Baron hadn’t just controlled her. He’d broken something in her. Something she was only now learning to rebuild.
“When she stopped playing by his rules,” Thomas continued, “when she chose you, when she got pregnant with a baby he can’t control, by a man he can’t buy, he snapped. In his mind, he’s probably convinced himself he’s protecting her. Saving her from a mistake. He doesn’t see what he’s doing as wrong. He sees it as necessary.”
“Necessary?” I snarled. “By kidnapping her? By ripping her away from the people who actually love her?”
“I’m not defending him, Kick. I’m explaining him. And I’m telling you that a man like Baron—a man who can justify anything to himself—is dangerous. He won’t respond to threats. He won’t back down because you’re angry. The only thing that will reach him is being held accountable by people he can’t dismiss.” Thomas’ eyes bored into mine. “You knowwhoandwhatI’m talking about.”
“I do,” I said. “And they’re on their way.”
I thought about my confrontation with Baron yesterday. The things he’d said about Isabel giving up the baby. The cold certainty in his eyes when he’d told me I wasn’t good enough for her.
He’d been planning this. Even then. He’d looked me in the face, knowing his people were already in position to take her.
“I’m going to kill him,” I said.
“No, you’re not.” Press stepped in front of me, his hand on my chest. “You’re going to keep your head. You’re going to let us handle this the right way. And you’re going to bring Isabel home safe.” He looked at his phone. “They’ve landed.”
My eyes opened wide. “Bas, you said Miremont is south of here, right?”
“Yes.”
“Closer to the airport.”
Bas nodded.
“Tell them to meet us there instead of coming here,” I said to Press.
He got on his phone, and I looked from Bas to his father, then to his sheriff. “I can’t wait around. If we think there’s a chance that’s where Isabel is, I need to go. Now.”
Thomas looked at Clayton, who nodded. “I’ve got units on the way. Silent pursuit for now.”
