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Sunday morning, Vanessa sat in the backseat of the rented sedan and glared at the back of Mateo's head. The two men had been up late, up long after Carlos had suggested she retire to their shared bedroom in the hotel suite in Manchester. Suggested, as if she'd had a choice.
What had they talked about after she'd gone into the bedroom? She'd tried to listen at the doorway, but their voices were too soft to hear. How could she prove her worth to Carlos if he wouldn't even let her into the conversation? This always happened when Mateo was around. At first, Carlos would ignore the older man's gentle suggestions that such conversations were no place for a woman, and didn't she have better ways to spend her time? Over time, Carlos would either agree with Mateo or simply quit arguing the point, and Vanessa would be banished.
It was Kelsey's fault. Neither of the men trusted Vanessa not because of anything she'd done, but because of what Kelsey had done.
Last night, shortly before Vanessa had been sent to bed, Mateo's phone had rung. The private detective she had hired was now giving updates to him. One more blow to her plan.
The PI had given them an address, a condo where he believed Kelsey was staying for the night.
"She's not with Nolan?" Carlos had asked.
"Doesn't look like it," the PI said over the speakerphone. "He's back at his place, alone."
Carlos had smiled at that. "Trouble in paradise, I suppose. No sign of my boy?"
"Boy? I thought—"
"Right. Yes, you're right," Carlos said quickly, flicking the remark away with his wrist, as if the PI could see him. "Perhaps it is a girl."
"No sign of a kid. I'll let you know."
"Stay there and watch tonight."
A short pause answered that. Then, "I'm expected at home."
Carlos named a price, and the man agreed to stay.
Apparently, women weren't the only ones who could be bought.
Now, Carlos, Mateo, and Vanessa were driving from Manchester to Nutfield, a ridiculous name for a town. Mateo had gently suggested—all his suggestions were polite, all made with that irritating head-bob that was nearly a bow—that Vanessa should stay at the hotel, but she'd flat-out refused. And Carlos had been inclined to agree with her. Perhaps it was the eager way in which she'd woken him up that morning. She'd learned early on that generosity in the bedroom was often repaid.
Often, but not always.
The image of Abbas came to mind. She pushed it away and focused on the towering trees surrounding the car. It reminded her of Serbia. Before her life had fallen apart, before the lost jobs and sanctions, her family had occasionally left the city to spend the day on the lake, where they would picnic and relax. Her mother and the other adults didn't swim, but her father always went in with the children. Tata taught them to swim and dive off the dock. They used to play games and have races. Back then, Vanessa had always believed she was her father's favorite.
The thought didn't bring the tears it used to. She'd cried all the tears she had many years before.
Finally, Carlos turned the sedan into the entrance of a condominium complex in Nutfield, a collection of identical buildings, each of which had four doors in front, four separate entrances for four separate homes. Carlos snaked through the twisting streets. She read road signs and studied the area.
One of the road signs caught her eye. Mountain View Drive. It wasn't the obvious lack of a mountain view that had her staring at it. It was the name itself.
It was familiar.
She pulled her notebook from the seat beside her and started flipping until... Yes, right there. The man, Garrison Kopp, lived on Mountain View.
But the address they were going to now... She flipped to the next page back. This home belonged to Samantha Messenger. They hadn't heard her name until the night before when the PI called. Now, Vanessa wondered if she was connected to Garrison Kopp.
She let the information simmer for now. Eventually, she'd tell Carlos.
They stopped down the street from the address the PI had given them and stared at the door.
Vanessa was silent, wondering how she could use her new information to her advantage.
Mateo was silent, probably remembering how Kelsey had put him in prison.
Carlos was silent, too, and it was his silence that frightened her most.