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“Her fiancé? Kyle’s wife is getting married?”

“Soon as she gets that divorce from Kyle.”

He considered telling her the rest… that her timeline to find Kyle had drastically moved up regardless of the hundred grand bounty.

But he kept the information to himself.

If Addison knew she now only had weeks to petition for custody of Netta, she’d leave and he couldn’t release her into the fuckup her brother created.

Chapter 14

That night, Addison couldn’t sleep.

Over the last few hours, she’d listened to the rain start and stop, start and stop, until her skin itched. At least it wasn’t thundering. She hated thunder. Even years after the accident, she still couldn’t sleep through it.

She hated it here. How could she have assumed it would be easy to get Oliver to cooperate? His anger that morning had given her a glimpse into the man he’d become. A man she could never allow to find Kyle first. After all, there was no predicting what a hurt creature might do.

At this point, Oliver was dead asleep. His classical gym music had settled hours ago. Rolling out of bed, she felt her way up the stairs. The creaking steps were a lesson in trial and error, but she managed.

Pressing her ear against Oliver’s door, she heard nothing but silence. Whew.

Now or never.

When she twisted the doorknob to his office, it opened without a sound.

Sequestered inside, she flipped on the lamp. Depressing amber light flooded the small space. He had to have replaced every bulb with extra dim ones. The only other explanation was that this house was built for vampires. Who else could function in this cave? Everything in her itched to find some good, daylight-quality bulbs.

Oliver’s sleek silver laptop sat on the dusty desk. Yes! He hadn’t even bothered to hide it.

Did he trust her that much, or was it a decoy? A test she was about to fail?

Fingertips tingling, she opened it.

Her heart plunged straight to her fuzzy socks. The screen had been smashed—as though he’d thrown the thing against the wall and only the frame had held.

Did he have another one around here?

She pulled open the top drawer. Mismatched pens, an old calculator, a leather-bound notebook… Oliver’s or the homeowner’s?

Flipping it open, she skimmed through the hasty handwriting. Nothing but prep work for an ancient Greek art lecture. Recent or old? Did Oliver miss teaching? Did he miss life?

A rasp.

Was that him?

Breath held, she listened.

Nothing but rain against the windowpane.

She opened the next drawer.

The tears that sprang into her eyes were so instant, they burned.

Her brother’s watch.

The F. P. Journe watch his girlfriend had gifted him a few years ago. He’d worn it ever since.

And now Oliver had it in his drawer.