Page 119 of Ethan & Grace

“I think you’re lying,” I replied. “We know you ran over Amy Claymore on the night of the Pearl Gala and then bribed the police into making the evidence disappear. Don’t you dare try to deny it. We found the illegal transfers for the bribe in your desk.”

Claude’s eyes widened. “You were snooping around in my study?”

I gave a grim smile. “Surprised, are you?”

“Please, let my dad go,” James said. “We can talk about this calmly.” He had moved closer and now placed a hand on my shoulder, his eyebrows tightly knitted together.

I didn’t want to let Claude go. I wanted to beat the truth out of him. But one look at my best friend’s face made me choose the sensible option. Besides, smashing his face in wouldn’t do anything to help Grace.

I loosened my grip and took a step back.

“Tell me where Grace is,” I demanded again, a little calmer this time, but no less urgent.

Claude pushed off the wall, putting some distance between us. “I would if I could, Ethan. I promise. But I have no idea where your girlfriend is. Whatever you think you know about me—you’re wrong. I never ran anyone over. And about the illegal transfers . . .” He sighed and glanced at James. “It’s true that I bribed people. But not to cover up a murder. It was to sort out a few issues involving Asterdam Fashion. Not exactly legal, but that’s just how it is with big corporations.”

I didn’t want to believe him, especially since that would mean I still had no clue where Grace was, but there was something in Claude’s tone that sounded genuine.

“What about the Rolls-Royce you sold at the beginning of this year?”

He frowned. “The car was over four years old. I sold it and got a newer model. Listen, Ethan, I was annoyed yesterday when I found you and your girlfriend apparently getting it on in my study during my wife’s birthday party, but that was all. Once I’d kicked you out, that was the end of it for me. I haven’t had time since yesterday to kidnap anyone. I spent the whole day with my family.”

I looked at James.

He nodded. “It’s true. We had brunch together this morning before golfing, and spent the evening playing board games. He was with us the entire time.”

I didn’t like it, but I had to admit it all sounded pretty convincing. Perhaps Grace and I had been wrong, and Claude wasn’t the person we were looking for. It also made sense, considering nothing had happened to me. If he’d realised what Grace and I had been up to last night, surely he would have gone after me as well, not just her. And the sold car and the bank transfers were suspicious, but apparently just a coincidence. Which left me wondering who was actually behind Grace’s disappearance.

James must have seen the desperation on my face, because instead of being angry at me for lashing out at his dad and accusing him of being a murderer, he gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Do you want to go back to the beginning and tell us what happened with Grace?”

His compassionate question made the tears I’d been holding back all this time well up. “She’s gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

“She was supposed to leave the hotel to go home this afternoon, but she never made it. No one has heard from her since,” I explained. I told James briefly what Grace and I had been trying to uncover and that she had, as a result, received threatening letters she’d hidden from me. “And now she’s gone, and no one knows where she is or whether she’s OK.”

“Fuck,” James swore, pulling me into a hug.

“And you really thought it was me?” Claude asked from behind me.

I released James. “Yes. Everything pointed that way.”

He looked disappointed, as if he couldn’t quite believe we’d suspected him. And it was true that of all the filthy-rich snobs I knew, he was one of the more bearable ones. Sooner or later, I would have to deal with him and the documents Grace and I had found in his study, but now was not the time.

I had to find Grace. Wherever she was.

48

Hey, when will you be home? Shall we watch a film together? Please say yes!

Old message from Amy to Grace

Grace

“What do you think you’re doing there, Miss Claymore?”

I screamed, but the gag still muffled the sound. Footsteps drew nearer, echoing through the wine cellar. I froze, wishing my hands weren’t tied so I could use the jagged bottle neck in my hand as a weapon.

“Calm down.”