Page 64 of You'll Never Find Me

I called Jack as I left the station.

“You rang?” I said.

“I thought you were helping us.”

“I have other cases.”

“I’m here with Logan. If you’re willing to help, I could use it. Tess and Luisa are working another angle.”

Jack, wanting my help. Did he really need it, or was this another stunt to get me to join the family business?

Still...if Jack was helping Logan, I could find out more about him and his relationship with Brittney, try to figure out why she’d hired me in the first place.

Brittney wanted a divorce with as much money as she could get, which meant proving adultery. But my gut told me she knew he wasn’t cheating, so why hire me before she set him up with Rachel? Maybe she’d tried to set him up at the beginning but it hadn’t worked? She hadn’t even known about Jennifer until after Logan met with her.

There were genuinely stupid people in the world. And increasingly, I suspected Brittney was one of them. Unless she had some brilliant endgame in mind that I just couldn’t see yet.

“Okay,” I said. “Text me when and where.”

Twenty-Eight

Peter Carillo

Peter finally told Brian to leave late that afternoon. He needed to be alone. Too much pressure, too many people asking questions. He couldn’t think.

But the pain that Annie had put him in was worse than anything. All because she was throwing a temper tantrum.

His mom called and Peter didn’t want to talk to her, but he answered. “There’s no news,” he said.

“I know. A detective came to talk to me. I told you not to call the police. You’re the police. She’ll be back. Annie doesn’t have two brain cells to rub together, she wouldn’t know how to take care of those kids without your paycheck and support.”

“Something could have happened to them.”

“She’s jerking your chain, like she always does. Didn’t I tell you, Peter? Didn’t I tell you when you married her that she was going to lead you around by your dick?”

Peter put his head down on the table and willed his mother to stop talking. But she continued. She went on and on about how he wasn’t a strong enough man to keep Annie. How he had failed everyone because she left with his kids.

“What did you tell the detective?” Peter finally asked.

“I told them exactly what we talked about. That woman has a screw loose.”

“I hope you didn’t say it like that. They’ll think you don’t like her.”

His mother sighed dramatically. “I know how to talk to people, Peter. And I explained that I shared your concerns about Annie. I know the signs of postpartum depression well enough—I was a nurse, after all.”

She’d actually listened to him when he called her last night. Small blessing. “Thank you, Mom.”

“Do you want me to come out? I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. I can tell. I’m your mother. You’re drinking too much. When was the last time you ate?”

He stared at the near-empty bottle of bourbon. He’d drank most of it last night, but he’d finish it now. “Brian got me a sandwich from the deli.”

“A deli sandwich? I’ll be there tomorrow. I’ll cook you a real meal.”

“Please don’t.” He didn’t know if he could handle his mother’s criticisms, not now.