“Where the fuck are you?”

  I look across to Beau, whose cell is flashing in her hand. James. “Track Beau’s phone,” I say, hanging up and then texting him a million apologies and kisses. This is both our faults. Mine and Danny’s. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped. Beau wouldn’t have heard, and I wouldn’t currently be riding shotgun on a vigilante hunt for Danny’s and Beau’s dad’s ex-lover. My lip curls just thinking about her. Granted, Beau’s got more to hate, but . . . ughhhh I hate her. “Answer,” I say to Beau, seeing she’s thinking twice about it. “You can’t avoid him forever, Beau.”

  “We made love this morning.” She looks at me. “I’m not avoiding him.” She answers and drops her phone into her lap, and her shoulders lift, defying her stone façade. “Amber knows something about The Bear,” she says with a strong voice.

  “How do you know that?” James asks, sounding cooler than I expected.

  “I heard Danny in the office.”

  I silently thank her for not dropping me in the shit as my phone rings again. I reject the call and text him.

  We’re okay.

  His reply is quick.

  You won’t be.

  I reach for my forehead and rub away the wrinkles. I’m in now. And I’m not leaving Beau, so we will face their wrath together.

  “Where are you going, Beau?” James asks.

  “To find Amber. As always, if you’d just let me in where you feel I don’t belong, we might be out of this mess a lot faster.” She hangs up and takes the wheel with both hands, dipping and looking up to an apartment block in the distance.

  She looks so determined.

  And my nerves go through the roof.

  * * *

  The silence is screaming by the time we pull into the parking garage. I have a dozen missed calls from Danny and as many texts, all quite angry, which means I’m definitely not answering his calls. Beau’s cell, however, hasn’t rung once. Beeped once. Lit up once. James will be tracking her. My husband knows that. He just wants me to know how pissed off he is.

  Someone needs to tell him I know. I really, really know.

  Beau parks and we both get out. She wanders around the back of the car and opens the trunk, pulling up the lining, revealing a pistol and a vest. Beau takes the pistol and hands over the vest, her jaw tight, waiting for me to argue. I don’t. I can’t. I accept and slip it on. “I left my purse on the stool.” Why would I be so stupid? Remember my phone but forget my gun?

  “Here.” She pulls hers from the back of her jeans and hands it over. “Be careful.”

  I look down at my hand holding the pistol, not knowing what to do with it, I have no purse. So I tuck it into the back of my pants as we wander to the elevators on the other side of the garage. There are three. Two serve all floors. One serves only the penthouse. I look at the keypad and then to Beau as she goes to a door to the stairwell and tugs. It doesn’t budge. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking the stairs would be painful anyway.” She steps toward the elevator and punches in six digits into the panel. A red light flashes and Beau curses. “I thought it would be his birthday.” She punches in six more. Another flashing red light. “Damn it.” She proceeds to enter various combinations, and all refuse her entry.

  “Beau, you don’t even know if your dad bought this place.” We could be trying to break into a perfect stranger’s home.

  Her shoulders drop and she exhales, turning to head back to the car. Thank God. She’s seen sense. But she stops and stills for a moment before looking at it again. “What?” I ask, my eyes batting back and forth between Beau and the keypad. “What is it?”

  She approaches and bends, looking at it from every angle before getting her phone out and shining the torch on the shiny metal buttons. “I don’t believe it.” She stands and stares, so hard she might burn a hole through the metal plate. I don’t ask what she doesn’t believe because I know I won’t get an answer, so I wait for her to make her move. Reaching forward, she slowly pushes one button after the other.

  A green light blinks and the elevator starts moving. “Oh my God,” I blurt, jumping when Beau releases the safety on her gun. “Oh my God, Beau!” My hands find my head and she moves to the side of the elevator, looking at me like I should do the same, so I do, my heart racing. The doors slide open, and Beau checks if it’s empty.

  “Put your phone on silent,” she orders, stepping inside the cart. “In fact, why don’t you just wait in the car for me?”

  I laugh and hurry in with her and, of course, she doesn’t fight me. I want to think this arming herself business is all unnecessary. I can’t. I’ve been on the receiving end of Amber’s resentment. That woman has no scruples or boundaries. “What was the code?” I ask.

  “The date of my mom’s memorial.”

  I swing a stunned expression her way. “What?”

  “Fucked up, eh?” She stares forward, a million flecks of hate in her eyes. Just when I thought her dad could not be more of an asshole.

  The doors close and we both look up at the dial above the door, watching as it ticks up through the floors at an epically slow rate. And when it dings to announce our arrival to the penthouse, we both inhale and step to the side. I stare into Beau’s dark eyes as the doors slide open, waiting, tense and shaky. It’s quiet, only the drone of electrical appliances breaking the silence. The soft glow of the apartment is a stark contrast to the artificial, blinding lights of the elevator.

  Beau swallows and edges to the front and pulls her phone out, getting the camera screen up and turning the image as if she’s about to take a selfie. Then she angles it out, checking the space. She looks like she knows exactly what she’s doing. I hate that she does. I hate that she used to be a cop. But I also appreciate it.

  “Nothing,” she finally says, moving out but keeping her gun poised. I follow on a held breath, taking in the uber-modern penthouse as Beau scopes the place.

  “Anything?” I whisper, putting my vibrating phone into my back pocket.

  She opens a door and looks inside, where a bank of screens displays live footage of the parking garage and the stairwell. “Was your dad security conscious?” I ask.

  “I hardly knew my father,” she replies, leaving the door open and wandering deeper into the open space. A kitchen spans the back, and a staircase sweeps up to a mezzanine floor where I can see the top of a headboard.

  And then I hear it. A voice.

  “I’m here,” it says.

  I look at Beau, just as she aims her gun to the stairs, and she starts moving toward them, quietly but efficiently. I inhale when I see a figure at the top, and Beau pauses from taking the first step, her foot hovering in mid-air. “Beau?” Amber sounds shocked, coming out of the dusk and into the light. “And Rose?” She comes down two steps and looks between us. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?” Beau retorts, her gun unmoving, aimed.

  “How did you find me?” Amber comes down the stairs, her face a map of confusion. “I thought you were someone else.”

  “Who?” Beau backs up, maintaining her distance, and I stick to her side like glue.

  Amber reaches the bottom and glances around, nervous and twitchy. She looks bedraggled and tired, the usual power suit replaced with a tracksuit and some Uggs. Her hair is piled high. No makeup. “I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t know who it is.”

  I don’t like this at all. She looks fucking shifty, edgy. Who was she expecting?

  “How did you know I was here?” she asks Beau, going to the window and looking down onto Miami.

  “My dad offered to buy me this place.”

  She laughs, but it’s not in humor. “He bought me this place.” Amber faces us, noticing for the first time the vest I’m wearing. She tilts her head, moving closer, her eyes on my stomach. “Are you . . .”

  I keep my mouth firmly shut, which is probably the worst thing I could do.

  “You’re pregnant?” Amber looks plain disgusted. It doesn’t bode well.

  “We’re not here about me.”

  “Oh, well, it’s all very cozy between you two, isn’t it? My stepdaughter and my ex’s new wife.”

  “Stepdaughter?” Beau splutters.

  “Ex?” I ask. She was never Danny’s in the first place to become an ex.

  “Yes, ex.” Amber’s edginess is suddenly gone for dust, and supremacy is back. Oh no. She is underestimating Beau. Silly woman. She casts a looks Beau’s way. “Didn’t you know Tom had proposed? Obviously I accepted. It’s why he wanted to meet you for dinner, Beau. To tell you.”

  “I thought you’d split up.”

  “Well, we had, no thanks to you.” Amber’s eyes turn onto me. “Thank you for pouring poison into Tom’s ear.”

  “Poison?” I blurt. “You mean the truth, don’t you?”

  Her hand lands on her chest. “I loved Tom dearly. Is that why you’re here, Beau? To stake a claim on everything that’s now . . . well, mine?”

  Fucking hell, she’s a beast of a woman. “I think we should be leaving,” I declare, tugging on Beau’s arm. “Beau, come on.”

  “Yes, run along. And enjoy the BMW.” Amber smiles, and it is slap worthy. “You’re welcome.”

  “Shut up,” I snap, furious on my friend’s behalf.

  “Oh.” She laughs. “Danny’s latest whore has something to say, does she? Like your fucking opinion counts?”

  I’m not standing here and listening to this bitter, twisted piece of shit devalue my marriage. I look at Beau and hate the raw fury I see. The deep breaths she’s pulling to contain the monster that’s trying to break free. Because, apparently, Amber knows something about The Bear. “Beau, remember why we’re h—” The screens in the office catch my eye. Or rather, someone on them. I move in closer, seeing someone in the parking garage. A man. He goes to the elevator, reaches for the panel, and the doors behind us start closing.

  “Beau, is that your ex?” I ask, forcing her from her frenzied trance with just the mention of Ollie. She frowns at the screens. I don’t need confirmation. Especially when Ollie looks back, giving the camera his face. What the hell is he doing here?

  I turn back to Amber.

  But she’s gone.

  What?

  I swing around on the spot, searching for her. “Rose!” Beau yells, just as something connects with my side and knocks me to the rug. I land with a grunt and open my eyes, reaching behind me to get the gun. No gun.

  I roll to my back and come face to face with the end of my gun. My hands instinctively come up in defense.

  “Stand up,” Amber orders.

  Heart pounding, I get to my feet and move back to Beau, who is still armed. A face-off. Amber, clearly stressed, her hands shaking where she’s holding the gun, takes a step back. I know Beau could take her out in a second, but… “Remember, Beau,” I say, reaching for her hand and forcing the gun down. “Remember why we’re here.”

  “Why is that?” Amber asks. “Why you’re here, why is it? You’re pissed Tom left me all his money?” she asks Beau. “Or are you looking for this?” She holds up a key. Then she looks at me. “Or is it because Danny’s promised to look after me? Protect me? He was sending me to his private place somewhere.”

  Bull, meet red flag.

  Baseball bat, meet stomach.

  Heart, meet fucking knife.

  Remember why we’re here. Remember!

  I breathe. I breathe so deeply, closing my eyes and chasing the red mist away before it ruins everything. And when I open them again, I feel so much calmer. I look Amber square in the eye.

  Bang!

  I gasp, Amber drops like lead, and I stare at her lifeless body on the cream rug, a pool of blood growing around her head. I look at Beau, stunned. She’s staring too. “Shit, Rose,” she whispers. The gun drops to the floor with a clang. Then the elevator sounds behind us and Beau snaps to life. “We have to go,” she says, claiming the gun from the rug and mine from Amber’s lifeless hand before pulling me to the door by the elevator. She yanks it open and we run down one flight of stairs before facing another door, this one with a panel. I hear Beau praying as she puts in the code and pulls the door. It opens, thank God it opens, and I’m dragged through and down the stairs. “Watch your feet,” Beau says.

  When we reach the bottom, another code is required and as Beau enters it, someone flies through the door up the stairs. We both look up as Ollie looks over the balustrade down the stairwell. He sees us. His face is a picture of distress, alarm, and anger.

  Then he’s flying down the stairs, and the sound of his boots hitting the concrete echoes off the walls. We run.

  We run so fast.

  35

  JAMES

  “She’s turned her phone off again.”

  “Fuck!” I smash my palms on the steering wheel over and again, taking my frustration out on the car. I see Danny go to his phone in my peripheral vision to dial Rose again. I also see his jaw rolling when she obviously doesn’t answer. “The only reason my wife would go AWOL,” he seethes, taking his phone to his mouth and tapping it on his scar, “is because of her best mate, and her best mate is your girlfriend.”

  “Fiancée,” I snap, yanking the steering wheel to the left, taking the corner fast.

  “Girlfriend, fiancée, wife,” Danny growls. “Ball and fucking chain. Same fucking thing.” He smashes his fist into the leather. “Where the fuck are they?”

  “The address where her phone was last detected,” Otto says from the back, working away on his laptop. “It’s a new development on South Beach. Guess who invested?”

  I look up at the rearview mirror, words Beau spoke to me weeks ago coming back. He’s offered me an apartment in the new block he’s building. “How many apartments?”

  “Including the penthouse, fifty.”

  “Look up who owns the penthouse.” This is Tom Hayley we’re talking about. Egomaniac. If he’s going to own an apartment in a block, you bet your arse it’s going to be the best one. When Otto curses, I peek up at the mirror. “Well?” I ask. Come on, who is it? Surprise me.

  “Tom Hayley,” Otto whispers, and I nod.

  “For fuck’s sake.” Danny dials Rose again and curses again when she doesn’t answer. “We need to make it to Amber before Beau.”

  “You’ve spent too much time with Brad.”

  “Fuck off.”

  * * *

  Otto works his magic on the CCTV system, cutting all the cameras, before we all pile out and approach the elevator. He rips the keypad panel off the wall and plugs something in, pressing a few buttons. The elevator doors slide open. “Clear?” I ask.

  “From what I can see.”

  Translated, can’t be sure.

  The tension is horrific as we travel up, and my eyes are constantly batting between Otto, Danny, and the floor counter. We all pull our weapons at the same time as the lift approaches the penthouse, jolting as it slows to a stop. I plaster my back to the wall with the others and wait until the doors are open before peeking around the edge.

  Empty. Quiet. I lift a foot to step out.

  “Wait,” Otto blurts, stilling me. After the last time we found ourselves in this situation, it’s no wonder I look down at my boots. Looking for the trip line.

  “Are you kidding?” I ask quietly as he lowers and studies the space before us.

  “Being cautious.” He hums and rises to his feet. “We’re clear.”

  I place my foot down and walk slowly through the penthouse, past a study on my right, the screens on the wall black. I come to a glass coffee table and gaze around. “There’s no one here,” I say over my shoulder, as I tread across the endless parquet flooring, my boots moving gently.

  Danny moves up the stairs to the mezzanine and checks, and Otto goes out onto the terrace.

  “Nothing,” they say in unison.

  “So where the fuck have they gone?” I ask myself quietly, checking once more for signs of any life. There’s nothing. It looks like the place was finished and no one’s ever moved in.

  36

  BEAU

  With my hands wrapped around the hot mug, I stare down into the coffee, still shocked, still blank, so I can only imagine how Rose is feeling. “What was Ollie doing there, Beau?” she asks, breaking the endless silence. “She said she was expecting someone. Him?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit, looking up and around the backstreet café, flexing my stiff neck. “I used to come here with Nath.” I smile sadly. “Most of the time we sat on the pavement outside because”—I shrug—“well, you know.” It’s getting dark now, so all of the tables and chairs have been brought inside ready for closing. We’re the last in here.

  Rose looks around. “It feels weird.”

  “What does?”

  She lifts her cup to her lips and has some tea. “Sitting in a café in public having a cup of tea. Just like any normal person would.” Rose’s phone rings and we both stare down at it on the table. “He’ll definitely have Otto installing a tracker on my phone now.”

  I nod and pull the key from my pocket, placing it on the table. We both stare down at it.

  “What do you think it’s for?” Rose asks.

  I pick it up and inspect it. “It’s a safety deposit key.” It would have been an idea to ask Amber for more information on the key before she died, but . . . well, it didn’t quite pan out that way. I slip it back into my pocket and reach for my phone, turning it on, feeling Rose look at me. “Let’s go home,” I say, standing. “Before we kill them with stress.”

  The smile of relief she gives me really does inflame the guilt. She stands and I link arms with her, leading her out to the car. “We’re toast, you know that, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I know that.” I start the car. “But still safer with them, right?”

  “You need to remove the right from that question.”