looking for her. The last I knew she was at your place of business. I can’t find her—”
She opened the door wide. “Come in out of the cold.”
He stepped inside, panic continuing to rise. This was on him. All on him.
“I’m Samara Davidson, by the way.”
“You’re Zoey’s mom.”
“Tawny’s mom, yes.” She led him deeper into the home. “We’re sitting in front of the fireplace dozing. Going to wait the blizzard out here. Please have a seat.”
“I don’t have time. Rae’s missing. Please tell me what you know. When did you see her last?”
A beefy man rose from the sofa. He could have been the man in the mask. He thrust his hand out. “I’m Ivan. I was with Rae today. Took her out on the slopes, along with a couple from France on their honeymoon.” He appeared concerned.
But was he lying? Liam fought the need to grab him by the collar and demand to know where she was. He reined in his fear and anger.
“Well, what happened? Did you see her leave?”
He ran his hand over his mouth. “She seemed to have fun. Asked me a few questions. When we got back, she grabbed her gear and went inside. I was with the others getting stuff from the helicopter. When I got inside, I saw her sitting on a sofa in the foyer looking more exhausted than I’d expected. I asked if she was feeling well. She told me that she was okay. Then I got distracted with the French couple. When I turned back, she was gone. I assumed she had left.”
“Her vehicle wasn’t in the parking lot,” Samara said. “So she clearly left. What do you think happened to her?”
“I’m trying to get to the bottom of this.” Were they lying to him? If they truly knew nothing about her, then where had she gone? This had to be Malcom Fox or Enzo Astor. Those two were working together. Rae’s disappearance had to do with Malcom and his using her as leverage over Liam . . . Or it had to do with Rae’s search for Zoey. Liam should have asked Malcom about Zoey, but he didn’t want to get into a conversation with him without leverage of his own.
“I need a minute to think.” He paced the room. Get it together, Liam. One mistake could cost Rae’s life. “Tell me about the books.”
Samara’s eyes widened. “Books?”
He moved to the bookshelf and ran a finger down the shelves until he spotted the spines of the novels by Zane Williams and tugged one out. “Rae pulled one of these from your bookshelf when she was here. She ‘borrowed’ it, she said. She’d discovered you were sending these to Zoey. So you were in contact with her, after all. Tell me what they mean. They could help me discover the whereabouts of both women. Zoey and Rae.”
The woman gasped and shared a look with Ivan, who appeared stunned at the news.
“I . . . She sent those to me years ago. Made me promise to keep them. She told me they were important. I could never let on that we were in contact, I knew that. Then a month ago, out of the blue, I heard from her. She wanted me to send her a book. One per week so it wouldn’t draw attention.”
“What was so important about the books? They could hold the answer.” He’d told Rae they meant nothing. He was grasping at straws now.
Sam stared, her mouth hanging open, then she bit her lip. “I honestly don’t know. Tawny, in her new life as Zoey, was secretive. I think she was terrified that if he got her again, he would kill her. She told me the less I knew, the better. I wanted to keep what little contact I had with her, so I didn’t ask more. I don’t know anything about the books, but there is something I do know.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Saturday, 10:02 p.m.
Denver, Colorado
Callie slept fitfully in her bedroom.
In his own bed, Alan lay on his side and stared at the way the moonlight streamed through the window and hit the sage green walls—a color Zoey loved.
Come home to me, baby. Come back to us.
His silent pleas wouldn’t bring her back. Sleepless nights as he tried to figure this out hadn’t brought the answers he sought.
The police had her laptop or else he would have spent the lonely hours of the night scouring it for answers. Zoey was a master at her part-time job for a