“Who is she to you?”
I arch a brow at him as my phone vibrates in my hand. “I pay you to defend me, not police my relationships.”
“But she’s?—”
I glare at him and swipe my phone, hoping it’s Honor telling me she has come to her senses and is sitting tight. But it’s a message from the Ghost. I flick it open.
Ghost
Woah, dude, where did you find her? You aren’t going to believe who she really is.
I raise my fist and shout at a cab that speeds past me.
Ghost
Attached photo.
I flick it open, finding a professional picture of Honor with blonde hair on the arm of a man. Her stare is blank as fuck as she smiles at the camera. My heart seizes, and my blood runs cold.
Ghost
You have stumbled on no other than Honor Lowell, the missing wife of Gideon Lowell. New York’s DA.
Ghost
Last reward for her safe return was two million dollars. I know you aren’t short of money, but the narrative he spun was a cartel kidnapping. Makes me wonder why she’s hiding out at your pool house as your gran’s assistant. It doesn’t seem to fit.
No, but it explains why she’s so terrified. It’s as if serendipity has sprinkled her shit over me. The very woman who might be able to prove my innocence has been living under my roof. The New Year’s Eve party that Gillian attended was hosted by none other than Mr. District Attorney himself. And if memory serves, Honor didn’t disappear until a few days later.
Fox
Thanks for the info. I’ll put double the payment in your account. Ensure you keep this to yourself.
Ghost
You insult me. No need for the extra—this shit is entertaining as fuck.
I swap to a different chat.
Fox
I need that favor.
H
What do you need?
Fox
A private jet ready for me at JFK in thirty minutes.
H
Where to?
Fox
Home.
