“Is mine,” I snap, cutting her off. “Chase is mine ... and I’m not crazy. It was Remus, Goldie. And it doesn’t matter if he was just the counselor. He’s connected in some way. So you can either help me find the goddamn love of my life, or you can get out of my fucking way.”
The feeling of my eyes welling stings, making me blink, allowing a tear to escape, but I wipe it viciously from my face. I’m not sad because they think I’m the product of my fear. Maybe I am, but I’m not afraid for myself anymore. I’m only thinking about him.
There’s nothing but silence as her brows draw together, and she and Noah exchange glances.
I walk to where Noah dropped my duffel bag and clutch the handle, dragging it back to the kitchen as I start opening and shutting drawers, grabbing the biggest knives I see before adding them to my arsenal.
Goldie walks toward the kitchen slowly. “When did you guys ...”
I don’t look up as I speak. “Why do you care?”
The clangs of silverware and the slams of drawers almost drown out my rage as I take what I need from each one.
“Will it make you less of a bitch right now?”
Noah blows out a harsh breath, drawing my eyes, before he stands between us so we can’t look at each other.
“We need to work together. We’re all on the same side because, clearly, we all love Chase.”
Reluctantly, I nod, and I see my sister try to look around him before retreating and turning back around.
Noah looks down at the duffel. “What’s in the bag?”
“A crossbow . . . from set.”
“Jesus Christ,” Goldie rushes out from behind him, so I smack my hands against the counter.
“Then what’s your plan? Huh?”
Noah’s much calmer than me or Goldie, probably because he’s been here, done this two times more than we have. The distance between us is closed as he strides over and sits on a barstool, looking me in the eyes.
“We’re going to keep calling the cops until somebody fucking listens to us. And I think we should try and talk to whoever saw him last ...”
“I saw him last ... It was me.” My voice gets shaky, seeing him in my mind, and it drops me to my knees.
I crouch, gripping the open drawer with all my might because Chase’s favorite knives are inside. He keeps them here because he said all his best dishes are for me. A truly fragile breath exhales between my lips before I make my way back up, slowly reaching inside and pulling them out.
“Who else does Chase spend time with?” Noah presses.
My eyes close for a second before I pull it the fuck together. “I don’t know ... nobody. His kitchen ...”
That’s when a thought hits.
“Eddie,” I blurt out. “His sous chef ... He knows Chase’s whole schedule. And he waited for the guy who installed the cameras ... Maybe he’d know something ...”
His eyes grow wide, picking up exactly what I was thinking. He snaps his fingers. “Fuck yeah. We need that footage. That’s something the copscanuse.”
I nod. “Um ... his laptop’s in our room.” I point to the door. “His contacts are on it.”
He’s on his feet, talking over his shoulder. “Listen, I’m not taking Remus or someone who looks like him off the table ... but how well do we know Eddie?”
Goldie breathes out Noah’s name, but he ignores her as he walks into the bedroom and out almost just as fast with Chase’s laptop in hand.
“Rexy, everyone’s a suspect,” he levels at her. “We don’t know who we’re dealing with, so all I’m saying is, could Eddie be someone we only recognize as a problem in hindsight? Because Chase felt like something was happening ... We talked about it today.”
It feels like a bomb just dropped in the room.Chase thought something was happening ... What does that mean?
It’s as if Noah can read my face because he adds, “We agreed not to tell you or Goldie until we were sure there was something to tell.”
