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I step out of the vehicle to the sound of sails flapping in the wind and the smell of salty air.
As I approach the front door, my pulse quickens.
I knock, each rap echoes in the stillness of the afternoon.
A moment later, a woman answers. A smile across her face as she wipes her hands over her apron.
“Can I help you?” she asks, glancing behind me at the car and my bodyguards inside.
“I’m looking for Amelia,” I reply, forcing calm into my voice. “Is she here?”
“Amelia?” She shakes her head slowly. “I’m sorry, nobody here is called Amelia.”
“She used to live here with her parents.” I swallow hard and pull out my phone to show her a picture of Amelia. I stare at it for a moment. Her blue eyes stare into mine and the way she smiles is like she loves me.
Turning my phone to the lady, I ask, “Are you sure? She used to live here with her parents.”
The woman studies the photo closely. “Ahh. No. I never got to meet her. Poor child.” Her eyes soften with pity as she hands me back my phone. “I wish I could help.”
My heart shatters.
After leaving my business card, I take a step back from the door and nod politely. “Thank you. Please call me if she turns up here.”
As she closes the door, reality sinks in like lead in my stomach. I turn back to the Escalade.
I thought I knew her.
Thought this was where she’d run.
Silently, I sink into the backseat, the leather cool against my skin. Jackson glances at me through the rearview mirror.
“Where to?” he asks, his voice steady. “Airport?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sir,” Jackson begins, glancing into the rearview mirror again. “Have you remembered every conversation you had with her? Is there anywhere else she could be?”
“She won’t go back to Italy. And I hoped she’d be here rather than California, which is where she used to live. I just thought—” I sigh. “I thought she’d want to feel close to her parents.”
“We could try the cemetery,” Callum offers just as his cell rings. He sits opposite me in the Escalade. “Any news?” he asks the caller.
Callum disconnects the call. His face grimaces.
“West,” he says, leaning forward. “Vincenzo’s son was in Boston on a hockey trip. He’s been kidnapped.”
A chill runs down my spine. “By O’Reilly?”
Callum nods. “It’ll only be a matter of time before Vincenzo is dead.”
“Thank fuck. O’Reilly’s not going to harm his son, though?”
Callum’s brow furrows as he scans the traffic behind me. “It’s best not to think about O’Reilly’s methods.”
A shiver runs down my spine. I don’t want to be the person who is the cause of this kid’s death, but Amelia is more important.
“What’s our next step?” Jackson asks.
“We need to think bigger.” I pull out my phone and dial East’s number.