“Jump, Mrs. Miller,” I demanded.
Her body trembled as she lifted one leg and then the other until she was perched with her legs dangling over and her hands gripping the rail. The sea breeze blew her light blonde hair away from her bruising face. “Please,” she begged, looking over her shoulder at us. “Tell me they’re safe.”
I stepped forward and pressed my hand in the small of her back. “Madeline Tate was and is my wife. She and my child were sold by you,” I growled in her ear. “Your grandchildren will be—”
I shoved her from the railing without completing the sentence.
Sparrow and I both leaned forward until…
Simultaneously, we both straightened our necks.
“I didn’t expect her to bounce,” Sparrow said.
“Hmm,” I replied. “Let’s get those journals and get out of here.”
Twenty-five minutes later, we were both back in our plane, and our driver was on his way back to Colorado. Upon the table before us were the Millstones’ journals. Before leaving the house, we’d placed enough evidence into the safe to send the authorities to the presumption that guilt had finally gotten the best of Wendy Millstone, and closed the safe.
“What do you think we’ll find?” I asked.
“Only one way to find out,” Sparrow replied.
“I have a wish list that includes Roberto and Kristine Ortiz’s address.” I looked up until my gaze met Sparrow’s. “If it’s here, I have an idea.”
Madeline
A second knock upon the apartment door drew me closer. I recalled what Patrick had said the day before; there weren’t many options for visitors. Nevertheless, years of living in the Ivanov bratva made me leery. There were few people who were supposed to have access to the apartment I later moved into after the suite near the nursery and a brief time in Andros’s personal suite. Of course, that didn’t mean that others didn’t find their way to me.
Bracing myself for whoever was on the other side of the door, I reached for the handle and turned, pulling it inward.
The smiling face and blue eyes beneath a crown of chestnut-brown hair met my gaze. In her hand was a tray with covered dishes. “Hi,” Laurel said, “Ruby said you weren’t eating dinner and well, just between you and me, that doesn’t work with Lorna. She looks all petite and sweet and stuff, but that red hair is there for a reason.”
A grin came to my lips. “I didn’t mean to offend her.”
Laurel tipped her head toward the doorway. “Do you mind if I bring this in?”
“Oh.” I took a step back and opened the door wider. “Please, come on in.”
Dressed in similar casual attire as I—jeans and a sweater—and about my height, Laurel Pierce entered with the tray in hand. As she placed it on the breakfast bar in the kitchen, she looked around. “You know, I haven’t been in Patrick’s place before.”
“You haven’t?”
Laurel shrugged. “All of our apartments have the same floor plan. Yet when you’re inside, it’s funny how different they all are.”
“I’ve only seen this one.” I looked around the kitchen, dining area, and living room. Even though he’d told me that Lorna helped him decorate, the masculine colors and minimalist style worked for him. “It seems like Patrick.”
Laurel nodded. “It does.” Her gaze met mine. “Hey, you didn’t really offend Lorna. I’m just letting you know that she’s all about taking care of everyone. It’s her self-appointed role.”
“That’s what Patrick said.”
“So I hope you will reconsider eating.”
There were two covered dishes upon the tray. “Is one for Patrick?”
“No.” She waved her hand dismissively. “The men always figure out a way to eat. Heck, they might have dinner on the plane. The second dish is because I was hoping I could invite myself to eat with you.”
Plane?
Where had they gone?
Her comment earlier came to mind, pushing away my questions. Shaking my head, I pointed to the stools at the breakfast bar. “I’m sorry, Laurel, I’m not thinking exactly straight. Yes, please, have a seat.”
After we had our plates and place settings in front of us and I’d found two bottles of water in the refrigerator, we lifted the covers over each plate. As the delicious aroma wafted into the air and registered, my stomach gurgled. Before each of us there appeared to be vegetable lasagna, salad with vinaigrette dressing, and a slice of garlic bread.
“I hadn’t realized I was hungry,” I said with a grin. “Ruby is eating upstairs, right?”
“Yes. She offered to bring you a plate, but I told her I wanted to do it.”
Why was she being nice?
“Is Mason…” I was beginning to pair the ladies with the men. “…still gone with Patrick and Mr. Sparrow?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “He didn’t go with them. He’s upstairs with the others.”
“He didn’t? I don’t really know what they do, but wouldn’t it be safer with Mason along?”
Laurel grinned. “I’m going to say yes because Mason is...well…Mason, but if Sterling and Patrick think they could do whatever they’re doing alone, I wouldn’t doubt them.”
Andros rarely traveled alone and usually with at least one or two of his most trusted men.
“We often have dinner alone in our apartment,” Laurel went on, “but with Ruby here, I think everyone is trying their best to make her feel welcome.”
I let out a sigh. “Thank you. Is that why you’re here?”
“First, don’t thank any of us. You have no idea what a jolt Ruby has been to our status quo.” Laurel waved. “A good jolt. I have a niece I see only occasionally, and I’d forgotten how fun it is to have someone younger around. I’m sure you agree.”
I nodded as I swallowed a bite of the salad.
“And as for welcoming, maybe,” she said with a wink. “Before you and Ruby, I was the latest addition to this place. It wasn’t that long ago. I know that they…” She tilted her chin to the floor above. “…can be a bit overwhelming.”
“I really can’t believe we’re here.” Another gaze around the apartment revealed that beyond the tall windows, night had fallen. It was my second night here and Ruby’s third. “Or that here exists.”
“It does and it doesn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Araneae jokes that the top floors of this building are invisible to the rest of the world. At first I laughed, but the longer I’ve been here, the more I think she’s on to something.”
My nose scrunched. “That’s not really possible.”
“Oh, I know. I know the science behind the properties of matter and know true invisibility isn’t possible. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Mason explained it as people seeing what they want to see. I’ve come to believe that the world can see the top of this building. What they can’t see is what we see when we look at it.”
“I’m not sure I’m following,” I admitted.