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“W hat’s that smile for?”

Grayson glanced at Cooper. “Was I smiling?” He probably was since he’d been thinking of Harlow. Had she found his note yet? He hadn’t wanted to leave her this morning, but this trip to talk to Veronica’s mother was important.

“Have you made contact with Pressley’s driver?” he asked to change the subject. He wasn’t ready to share where he’d spent the night.

“He plays racquetball a few mornings a week at the club. I’m going in the morning and try to get a game with him. Start feeling him out.” Cooper turned the Jag onto Mrs. Osorio’s street. “You sure about this plan?”

“It’s the best one I can come up with to get close to Pressley. It depends on the driver.” He was working on a plan B should Pressley’s driver have scruples. They came to a stop, and Grayson opened the door. “Let’s see what the lady has to say.”

Madeline Osorio was an attractive woman, and even at nine in the morning and not expecting visitors, she was dressed as if she’d expected company. Grayson estimated her to be in her early fifties, and even though it didn’t appear that she had a lot of money based on the sparse furnishings in her small apartment, she was stylishly dressed in a blue silk blouse and black pants. Her brown hair with blond highlights was cut short, and her makeup was flawless.

When she’d answered their knock at the door, as soon as they explained that they were looking into the disappearance of her daughter on behalf of a client, she’d invited them in. She seemed to welcome their company even though they were strangers, and she’d insisted on serving them coffee.

Although Mrs. Osorio had reported Veronica missing, she had never been found. Even though Grayson assumed Veronica had been killed and dumped in the ocean based on what Harlow had overheard and what she’d seen in Pressley’s safe, he wouldn’t tell her mother that. Not without definite proof.

Grayson took a sip of coffee, then set it on the coffee table. “Mrs. Osorio—”

“Madeline, please. Do you know where my daughter is?”

“No, ma’am, but we’re searching for her and hope you can give us some insight into her life before she went missing.”

“Why are you searching for her?”

On their drive here, he and Cooper had discussed possible questions Mrs. Osorio might ask, and that had been one of them. They couldn’t tell her about Harlow. For one thing, there was client privilege, but even if Harlow gave them permission to do so, he wouldn’t. He didn’t want her name floating around as a connection to Veronica.

“Her name came up in another investigation, but I’m sorry, I can’t tell you the reason at this time. What I do want you to know is that we’re very interested in finding your daughter. Look at it this way. You’re getting a skilled team of investigators at no cost to you.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I tried to find her, even hired a private investigator. About all he was good for was emptying out my small savings account. It was his opinion that she didn’t want to be found. As if my girl would just disappear like that knowing what it would do to me. I told him she wouldn’t do such a thing, but he thought he knew better.”

“We’re very sorry to hear that,” Cooper said. “Would you be willing to give us his contact information?”

“Yes. And you can tell him that he won’t get any references from me.”

Grayson smiled. “We’d be happy to pass on that message.” Along with a few choice words about taking a client’s life savings and not delivering any results. “Did Veronica seem excited or depressed or different in some way before she went missing?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I was still living in Portugal at the time. My husband had recently died, and I was both grieving and trying to tie things up so I could move back here. Veronica was going to come and help me, and we were going to fly home together. She never showed up and stopped answering my calls. I knew something was wrong then.”

“But not before that?”

“Ever since she’s been missing, I’ve tried to recall anything that might give me a clue. My husband’s family owned the house we lived in, along with resorts in Lisbon and Braga, and they’re rich. Benedito loved me, and we were happy together, but his family never welcomed me because I’m American. They’d wanted him to marry a nice Portuguese girl. When he died, they were glad to see me leave. I’m telling you this because at the time, I was dealing with so much that it was hard to see past losing my beloved husband and my home. If only I’d paid more attention to Veronica.”

He was disappointed that she wasn’t going to be much help.

“She did buy the tickets for our flight home, and when I told her she didn’t have to do that, that I had a little money saved, she said she had a big payday coming. Veronica was a Realtor, and I assumed she was expecting a good commission on something she’d sold.”

They needed to talk to Veronica’s employer to verify that. He doubted that was what Veronica was referring to. Based on the timeline, it fit with her expecting to get blackmail money from Pressley.

Cooper turned one of his I’m-your-friend smiles on Madeline. “Who did your daughter work for?”

They already knew that, but Cooper was easing her toward the more difficult questions. Grayson sat back and let Cooper charm the woman. He tuned them out for a few minutes while he thought about their next steps. The plan he’d decided on would be risky, but it was the best one he could think of to get close to Pressley.

“Was she seeing anyone?” Cooper asked.

The question caught his attention, and he turned back to the conversation.

Madeline nodded. “She was, but she never told me his name. She did say he was married but was getting a divorce. That was maybe four or five months before she went missing. I didn’t like that she was seeing a man who was still married, even if he was getting a divorce, and I told her so. She didn’t want to hear it.”

It had to be Pressley she was referring to.

“In her diary, she refers to him as A.”

“Diary?” Could they be so lucky as to have it all spelled out in Veronica’s own words? Maybe this wasn’t a wasted trip after all.

“Yes. I had to sell her condo after she disappeared. I couldn’t make the mortgage payments, and instead of letting the bank take it, I sold it. I didn’t spend any of the money from the sale,” she was quick to assure them. “It’s all in a bank account waiting for her, and I put all her things except for the diary in storage.”

He didn’t like that she felt guilty for being forced to do something she didn’t want to. “You did the right thing, Madeline. Veronica’s lucky to have you looking out for her. Do you still have her diary?” He wanted his hands on it.

“Yes. Do you want to read it?”

Did he ever. “Do you have it here?”

“Yes, I’ll get it.”

When she disappeared down the hallway, he gave Cooper a thumbs-up. “We may have hit pay dirt.”

“Let’s hope.”

“See if you can use that Cooper charm of yours to get her to let us borrow the diary.”

Cooper grinned. “I’m on it.”

Madeline returned a few minutes later, holding a dark red leather-bound journal. She sat back down and trailed her hand over the book, caressing it. She lifted her gaze to Grayson. “I’m going to let you read it in the hope that there’s something in here that will help you find her.”

Had she even considered that Veronica might no longer be of this earth? He took the journal when she handed it to him. He opened it and fanned the pages. It was filled in almost to the last page. It would take a while to read it all.

“Madeline,” Cooper said, his voice gentle. “We’re going to do everything possible to get you answers, and I hope you’re right, that something in there will lead us in the right direction. Would you allow us to borrow it? You have our word that we’ll return it to you. I’ll give you my personal cell phone number, and you can call me at any time if you have questions, or even if you just need to talk.”

“That’s very kind of you.” She shifted her gaze to the journal. “A part of me wants to not let it out of my sight. If she comes home before you return it, she’ll be furious that I let you read it.” Tears filled her eyes. “I’m trying not to let myself think it, but I’m not sure she’s ever going to come back to me. I’m going to trust you boys and let you take it.”

Cooper stood. “I think you need a hug. Come here.” She didn’t hesitate, and Cooper wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you for trusting us.” He stepped back. “We’ll have it back to you in a few days, I promise.”

Only Cooper could walk into a stranger’s house and have her accepting a comfort hug within an hour. After a few more questions, and after promising to keep Madeline informed as to what they learned, they took their leave.

“I hate that she hopes her daughter is alive and that we’ll find her when it’s likely that Veronica’s dead,” Cooper said as they drove away.

“I don’t like it either.” He needed to get in that safe. Then hopefully, Madeline would get closure. Although he’d read the diary from beginning to end when he got home, while Cooper drove them back to Myrtle Beach, Grayson skimmed through it.

The first half seemed to be Veronica writing about normal days, nothing about Pressley. She wrote about some dates she had with various men, nothing unusual for a young, single woman. If she was intimate with any of them, she didn’t share that in her diary.

Around six months before she disappeared, things got interesting. “Listen to this. ‘I met a man tonight at Corks and Cocktails, and there was an instant connection. We clicked in a way that’s never happened with me before. A told me he wants to see me but that he’s in the middle of a nasty divorce. He said his wife’s a bitch and out to take everything he has so we have to keep our relationship a secret until the divorce is final.’”

“No doubt in my mind, A is for Anthony,” Cooper said.

“Has to be.” He skipped farther ahead. It burned that Pressley painted a false picture of Harlow. He read the page he’d stopped on. “Get this. Harlow and Veronica met.”

“That had to be awkward.”

“Not for Harlow. She didn’t know who Veronica was.” He read the page to Cooper. “‘I met A’s wife tonight at the Annual Christmas Ball. I saw her come in with A when they arrived, and she wasn’t at all what I expected. She was dressed like some kind of cult member with her old-fashioned clothes, her hair in a bun and no makeup. Weird. Not at all the kind of woman A would choose.”

“Why would she dress like that?”

“That’s right, you never saw her when she first came to us for help. She was hiding herself, but that’s neither here nor there right now. There’s more. ‘We found ourselves in the ladies’ room at the same time. Of course, she didn’t know who I was. She was really nice and kind of shy. She asked me if I was enjoying myself, and I wondered what she’d think if she knew A had arranged for me to get an invite to the ball. The plan for later was that he’d send her home with his driver, and he’d come home with me. For the first time since meeting A, I felt a little guilty. And what about her supposedly being a bitch? I just didn’t see it.’”

Cooper shook his head. “The man’s a real piece of work.”

“Yes, he is. And he’s going to get his due.” He skimmed ahead some more, stopping when he came to a passage of Veronica writing about having sex with Pressley. Grayson closed the book. He wasn’t ready for that. Besides, he wanted to start from the beginning and read it through.

“You going to tell Harlow about the diary and what’s in it?”

“I don’t know.” Did she need to hear the sordid details of her ex-husband’s affair? Would she even want to?

They were a few miles from Grayson’s house when Cooper’s phone dinged. He darted a glance at the screen. “That’s a man in Charlotte I have looking for George Pickens.” He handed Grayson the phone. “Put it on speaker.”

Grayson did, then held up the phone toward Cooper.

“Mike,” Cooper said, “I’m with my partner Grayson Montana and you’re on speaker. You got something for us on Pickens?”

“Yeah, and it’s not what you’re going to want to hear. He was killed three years ago.”

“Damn,” Grayson said. “The police know who did it?”

“No, the case has gone cold. He was shot at close range, and the police have the bullet, but no leads. They haven’t been able to find anyone who held a grudge, and it doesn’t appear to be a robbery as nothing was taken from his home. Not that he apparently had much to take.”

Grayson would bet his beach home that he knew who killed a defenseless elderly man…or more like had him killed. He doubted Pressley did any of the dirty work himself.

I’m coming for you, Anthony Pressley.

* * *

Grayson set Veronica’s diary on the kitchen island when he got home. Thinking he was going to need a stiff drink while he read it, he decided to check his emails and messages first. There were a few from his dealerships’ general managers, and he dealt with those easily enough. Fortunately, his father had had good people in place, and Grayson rarely had to do much more than agree with the solutions they’d already come up with to any problems.

He deleted a few spam emails, then came to one from Harlow. When he saw what it was, he was impressed with how detailed it was. Everything he’d asked for was there: Pressley’s normal routine, a list of the people close to him—including things she knew about them—a detailed layout of his house and the code to the safe. He’d call her tonight to thank her for doing such a great job.

Once the emails and messages were dealt with, he intended to get the diary and start on it, but the ocean caught his attention, and he veered to the glass doors. The waves were up today, and since it was too early to start drinking—which he intended to do when reading the journal—he went surfing instead.

Two hours later, he returned to the house, showered, then poured a half glass of whiskey. He’d only read a few pages when his phone alerted. The video from the Ring camera appeared on the screen, and his blood froze. Harlow opened her door and Pressley stood there. She said something as she tried to get around him. He grabbed her arm, pulling her into the apartment, slamming the door behind them. As he dragged her by the arm, they disappeared from view.

Why would she open the door to him? What had she said, and why had she tried to see around Pressley? They should have installed a camera that also recorded sound. Grayson called Cooper.

“I need you to go to Harlow ASAP. Pressley just pushed his way into her apartment.”

“I’m on the way.”

“How long?”

“Five minutes. Who should I be?”

Good question. “Play it by ear. I’m leaving now, but it’ll take a good hour to get there.” He would’ve sent Liam, too, but it was possible Pressley had seen him around the country club.

“I’ll stay with her until you arrive.”

Why in God’s name had she opened the door to Pressley?