Nyla leaned forward. "You have that look on your face. What are you thinking? Do you think he's trying to deliberately make it look like Bridge killed this girl?"
"Yes, but why?"
Nyla shrugged. "There are a million reasons that he could want to frame his own son, the first being the obvious one."
I nodded. "Yeah, that he killed her himself?"
She nodded. "That would be insanely difficult to prove. I really need to go digging in Elite places, so we definitely have to bring the lads in on that."
"Yeah. I was afraid you'd say that."
She shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. If that's the angle we're looking at, then fair enough."
"The thing was, when I asked Melissa's friend Antonia about who she might have been hanging out with, anyone she knew, she indicated she was seen with someone we assume was another young teacher. Light brown hair, she said. Gray eyes."
She frowned. "Okay, that could be a million people. Anything else to narrow it down?"
I shook my head. "She said that she gave her a name, Willem. But when they pulled all the teachers named Willem from Eton, none of them matched the description. For good measure, I also showed her a photo of Bridge, Drew, Middleton, and Van Linsted. Asked her if Willem was in the picture and she said no." I scrubbed a hand over my face and sat back. “I have to be missing something. Bridge's father was so insistent that I believe what was in this. So I have to figure out the lie that he's actually trying to misdirect me to.”
Nyla went through the files again. "The part that's really concerning me is that whoever did this knew exactly what had happened with Bridge and that kid when he was young. Do you know what the story is with that kid?"
I shook my head. "My next step was to try and find him and find out what the fuck happened."
Nyla shrugged. "You want some company?"
"You'd help me? Are you going to tell him?"
She shook her head. "No, and besides, that can just be a quick conversation. We can just go see him briefly. And if you're with me, you don't need security.”
She raised her mug of tea up to salute my security guards, who were hanging at a discreet distance. Jacob grinned at her and winked.
She laughed. "He's cute."
I turned to glance at Jacob. "You think?"
"Yeah. How old is he?"
"Nyla, you have East."
"Oh, no. Not for me. Besides, East has made it his life’s mission to bond my vagina to him for life. I'm thinking about Amelia."
I glanced at Jacob again. "Oh, yes, Amelia. Wasn't she dating that, what was it, dentist?"
Nyla rolled her eyes. "Really? Amelia with a dentist? They don't have anything in common."
I laughed. "No, she said that he was into adventure sports and things."
"Yeah, mm-hmm, a dentist. She can do better."
"Well, you do love your bestie."
"I do. I love all my besties." She sighed when I got contemplative again. "Look, at the end of the day, only you know how you feel about this situation. You trust Bridge."
“With my life and I will kill to protect him. So we need to find out what his father is up to.”
“And when we know that we’ll finally have the key,” Nyla said.
“I feel like Lucas would throw in a GI Joe reference here.”
“You wouldn’t be wrong,” she said with a chuckle. “In the meantime, you and I at the end of the week. Lunch. We'll take a little trip to see Jacob Milton.”
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
"But watch your back with Middleton, yeah? I'd like you to be out of there."
"I know. Bridge too. But we don't have anything useful on him. Alex is there, but I have better access. So for the time being, I'm stuck."
"It is what it is. But you and I are getting some answers."
I nodded. "That’s exactly what I need."
Twenty-Two
Emma
As it turned out, Jacob Milton was going to have to wait.
Unknown: Can you meet today?
That one simple question changed the course of the day. The course of everything. The text had come in after I left Bridge at work, so there wasn't time to discuss it with him.
Sure there wasn't. It's just easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.
Fair enough, that was true. But this was an opportunity we weren't likely to get again.
So, we were doing this. I was doing this.
Don't you ever learn?
No, apparently I did not learn. But this time I was being safe. We were meeting at the London Library. I was in the brand-new pop-up café. From here I had a great vantage point of anyone coming and going from the library, and I was flanked by five men. Nothing could be safer.
Or at least I hoped so.
Our meet time was set for 2:00 p.m. I'd arrived at 1:30 just to be sure. Francis had wanted to know where the hell I was going of course, so I told him I was doing a little research on a client. And if he had people following me, well, he would be none too surprised to find me in the library. So I was covered there.
The women of Team London Lords were in attendance. All of them. Liv, Telly, Nyla, and Amelia. Telly had Liv in the car on comms. Nyla and Amelia insisted on being inside. Since I told Nyla my note sender wanted to meet me alone, she’d grumbled but agreed. A quick glance showed me she was by the checkout stand, and Amelia was flipping through books that were to be re-shelved.
I checked my watch. 2:10. I checked my phone again to make sure he hadn't tried to call. Or she for that matter, because the person had been using a voice modulator. So I didn't know for sure, did I?
And if your mysterious caller is Middleton?
I would deal with that if or when I came to it. I just needed to have some answers. Something to alleviate the pressure with Bridge. Something to give me some direction. Movement in any way. Because I couldn't live like this, not knowing, constantly being on edge.
I caught movement to my right and quickly turned. But the café gave way to stacks, and those stacks got darker as you went down. My phone buzzed in my hand, and I frowned.
Unknown: Follow me.
I stood to follow down the stack and made a left. Was I just chasing shadows?
I received another text.
Unknown: History stacks.
I glance at the stacks dubiously. There were a million places to hide. But still, I sent a text back.
Emma: All right.
One of my security guards frowned as I indicated the stairs that would take me to the history floor.
You could almost smell the old vellum paper and the years of dust even though the library was immaculately kept. The moment I stepped into one of the stacks, I frowned. As I climbed each step, the tension swirled around me and built up like a pressure cooker around my body. Like I was being watched. "Anyone here?"
My mind helpfully offered imagery from every horror movie where the heroine dies in a library or at the very least gets chased. Maybe I should have stayed with Amelia. Just told them that I had a friend coming and dealt with the consequences.
I listened for footsteps, further down and to the left. I moved quickly. At one point just taking off my shoes so they wouldn't make noise to announce my movements.