“He’s the logical person, Vaughn. He sent Tray a video of Grace.”
“Yeah, but we don’t know that was even real.”
“Why wouldn’t it be real?” Felicity isn’t being argumentative, she’s just asking questions but it exasperates me.
“Well, I know better than most how much you can fake with film, right? I mean, one guy could easily film a girl, pay an actress who looked like Grace as a teen. Did we get a good look at her?”
Conner types away on the computer he’s using and then tilts it towards me. “It looks like her.” He’s got a split screen up of Grace as a teenager after she was let go and the girl on the floor.
I reluctantly admit, that girl in the movie is my Grace.
“Vaughn,” Felicity says as she places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We’re gonna find her. Just write her a nice message in case she has a chance to log in. If he deleted her account, then maybe she’ll have an opportunity to get to that computer.”
I nod at her and take my attention back to the secret accounts we made. I pull up the pictures we traded. Naked selfies. This makes me smile at the memory. It was only a couple weeks ago, but I feel like she’s been a part of my life for ages. I feel like I’ve known her forever. Like our souls are connected by some ethereal string that was stretched taut from our absence. But the moment our eyes met back in Saint Thomas, we reconnected. We were pulled together by the forces of a long-lost love.
I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this girl. I feel like she is my soulmate.
My fingers find the keyboard and I try to put that into a tweet. Try to give her hope with a few words and some well-placed hashtags.
Master @mrinvsman
There’s no possible way I won’t find you. Our hearts are tethered by love & fate. I’m tugging on that string - feel me? #OnMyWay #Soulmates
I press send and hold my breath, hoping against hope for a reply.
But the minutes tick off and I get nothing. Just nothing.
My phone rings and jolts me out of my funk. “Vaughn Asher.”
“Mr. Asher, this is Detective Torrino. We’re suspending the search. Grace Kinsella just called Channel 9 and stated she’s accepted a job in Singapore that was offered to her in Vegas last week in order to get away from you.”
Singapore. “Well, how the hell do you know that was her?”
“She confirmed her social security number, her childhood address, and her bank account number. He best friend Bebe Chambers confirms it was her voice.”
“So? My daughter can get that information. That’s not a confirmation of identity. And maybe she’s being forced to say those things? How about a picture? How about a FaceTime? How about you ask her to log into her other Twitter account and read the message that’s posted there?”
“The case is closed, Mr. Asher. We’re satisfied she left of her own accord.”“Maybe she’s being threatened?”
“I asked her—”
“You can’t ask her, Torrino. If she’s being told to say something, then she’s going to deny it. And that wasn’t the job she was offered—”
“We’ve shut down the case, Asher. You can appeal to my boss if you like.”
I’m just about to protest again when the line goes dead.
“What just happened?” Conner asks.
“They shut down the fucking case. They say she called them and said she’s taking a job in Singapore to get away from me.”
Felicity’s hand reaches over to cover mine. “Do you think it’s true?”
“No. Grace was offered a job last week, but it was in Hong Kong. She’s sending us a message. She’s telling us she needs help. Felicity, please. Just come up with something. I feel like the clock is ticking and something very bad is going to happen if we don’t get to her soon.”
Chapter Ten
I PRESS end on the call. It’s not even cloaked or rerouted or secret, that’s how convinced he is that this will work. We turned on the TV, saw my face and the man-hunt. And I had an idea that might save the baby.
I’ll stay with you as your friend, you don’t need to be on the run. I’ll stay with you willingly and even tell the police to call off the search. Just let my baby live.
He said no, of course. That’s how you negotiate. Offer. Counteroffer.
His counteroffer was an annulment from Vaughn and marriage to him.
I accepted. End of negotiations.
I only hope that the police or media give my statement to Vaughn word for word. I’m starting to remember that night in Vegas. Little by little it’s coming back to me. I remember being drunk and leaving the private gambling room after Vaughn came to get me. I remember being in the bar and being offered a dream job in Hong Kong by the man who was treating me like his good-luck charm.
And that is the only thing I have going for me.
“You’ll call them again tomorrow if they keep running stories.” He says it as a statement, not a request. I will call them every day, if necessary. Just don’t hurt my baby. “Tonight we’ll sleep together.” Even through the mask I can see his smile and for some reason, that smile scares me more than anything else. More than the closet. More than the implied rape.
That smile implies he’s a winner.
My stomach lurches and it’s all I can do to force a smile back. “I’m looking forward to it.”
It’s four PM. Bedtime is maybe six hours away.