Page 69

“Petal, try keeping me in the car.”
His tone held the weight of a vow, reminding her that this dangerous, compelling man had appointed himself her protector whether she wanted one or not. To cover her reaction, she kept the conversation focused on business. “Maybe you’ll catch something I miss.”
He didn’t respond to that.
She looked up the address and gave it to him, and he told his onboard system to redirect them.
They parked around the block and walked the rest of the way.
Mrs. Santos greeted them at the door of her sprawling home, a Tudor-style mansion.
“Come in. Come in.” Her face was pale and drawn, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. She wrung her hands nervously, her wedding ring catching the sunlight and throwing prisms against the wall.
Her gaze darting to the driveway, she stepped aside.
“This is Gregorio,” Sasha introduced once the door was closed behind them. “The, uhm, associate I was mentioning.”
“Ma’am.” His voice was pitched low and reassuring, though Sasha caught the underlying steel.
“Please, call me Brenda.” She tried to force a smile that came out more of a grimace.
“Brenda.”
He gave the woman a kind smile, something Sasha had never experienced from him.
In response, Brenda blinked several times. Then with a sigh, her shoulders rounded once more, and she led them toward the back of the house to the kitchen.
The last time Sasha had been here, the place had been immaculate. Today, the space was a bit messy, with several pairs of shoes left in a pile near the foyer, and a stack of unopened mail piled on the console table. A throw blanket was on the floor near a sofa, and the scent of burned coffee lingered in the air.
“Thank you for coming.” Her voice wavered, threatening to crack. “I’m sorry I had to call you, but I don’t know what’s happening with him anymore.” She dropped down into a chair, and they followed suit. Two different coffee cups had been abandoned, half-full.
“He’s never been like this before,” she went on. “Secretive. Argumentative. And then buying me stuff I don’t need…that vehicle, flowers, jewelry. He has to be feeling guilty about something.” The words tumbled out, as if she’d been holding them back for too long.
“We’ll do everything we can to help,” Sasha assured her. “Tell me what happened. Step by step.”
Beneath the table, Brenda knitted her hands together. “We were supposed to go out to dinner with friends tonight. But this morning, he started throwing his belongings into a bag.” Desperately, Mrs. Santos tried to blink her emotions away. “He’snever packed his own suitcase. Not once in all these years.” A tear finally fell. “Then he said he had to leave town. And he didn’t say when he’d be back.”
“Or where he was going?”
Mrs. Santos shook her head. “Oh, Sasha. I’m so scared.”
Gently, she reached forward to touch the woman’s hand. “I know you need answers, and I can tell you this…” She glanced toward Gregorio, who gave her a small nod. “I’ve had surveillance on Mr. Santos.”
The woman straightened her back, and her eyes were wide, unblinking, like a rabbit caught in headlights, as if she was bracing herself for what Sasha might say.
“I have found no evidence that he is having any kind of affair.”
Her breath caught on a sob. “Really?”
Sasha nodded. “Now that doesn’t guarantee that he’s not, but what I’ve found so far suggests something else is going on.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she sighed.
After processing the information, she looked at Sasha again. “Then…? I don’t understand.”
“Do you want to know what I have found?”
“Yes.” She curled her hands around one of the abandoned cups and dragged it close. “I have to.”