“If there’s gossip, it must be Tuesday,” Nikki said, then tilted her head to indicate Damien. “He got used to it long ago. I’m finally getting to the point where it doesn’t feel like I live in a fishbowl. Or, more accurately, I’m starting to feel like a fish who can ignore everything outside the bowl.”
I laughed, but I couldn’t help but think that I had it lucky with Cole. Yes, he made the Chicago papers frequently, and yes, I’d undoubtedly be included in those pictures from now on, but his celebrity was limited to Chicago. Nikki and Damien were recognized all over the world, and god forbid they were caught up in any sort of scandal because then there was nowhere to hide.
Frankly, I liked my side of the coin better.
“Have you seen Cole?” Damien asked.
“All evening, and usually right beside me,” I said. “He pulled Tyler aside a few minutes ago. I think I saw them go down toward the water.”
As they left to finish their goodbyes, I searched out Mrs. Raine to get my post-wedding marching orders. A few minutes later, I caught a glimpse of Cole and Damien talking near the edge of the pavilion. Apparently Damien had more to say than goodbye, because Cole didn’t look particularly happy.
I was about to go ask what was going on—and if I needed to be concerned about my dad—when Mrs. Raine pulled me in to deal with the caterers and the florist. I hesitated, but I also knew that Cole wouldn’t do anything to put my dad in danger—or to let him stay there if danger had found him.
By the time I finished my post-wedding maid of honor duties, the crowd had thinned considerably, and I was ready to go, too. I still wanted to know what Damien and Cole had been talking about, but I could wait until we were in the car to ask.
The only problem was that I couldn’t find Cole.
This wasn’t a crisis at first—he’s a grown man and there were still enough people lingering at the reception that he could easily have gotten pulled aside to talk with a friend. But after more than a half hour passed I started to get truly fidgety.
“Not for at least an hour,” Tyler said when I asked if he’d seen Cole.
“He was talking with Damien, and neither one looked happy. Do you know if something happened?”
“Not that I know of,” Tyler said. “I know there was trouble in the gallery in LA a few days ago—some kids in Malibu throwing rocks through windows. Could be that.”
I frowned. Could be, but it didn’t feel right. “At any rate, I’ve lost him. If you see him, tell him to track me down.”
“You’ve texted him?”
I nodded. “But he probably forgot to turn his phone off silent.”
“Maybe he went to the catering office,” Sloane suggested as Tyler left to go talk with someone he recognized. “Someone actually delivered documents to a wedding, so they were probably important.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t see the messenger? About twenty minutes ago, I think. Maybe he needed to sign something and fax it back.”
I frowned, then went to find the woman on staff who was our assigned coordinator. She called back to the office, but was told that Cole wasn’t there, and hadn’t been there all day.
“Well, he has to be around somewhere,” Sloane said, but I was getting a bad feeling.
“I’m going to go see if the Range Rover is here,” I said.
Sloane lifted a brow. “Don’t be absurd. He wouldn’t leave you without a ride.”
“I have a ride. You’re here, aren’t you?”
She frowned, but didn’t argue. She also didn’t say anything else until we got to the parking lot and found the space where he’d parked the Range Rover empty.
“Well,” Sloane said. “That’s fucked up.”
twenty-four
The benefit of Sloane being a former cop and now working for the knights’ investigative company was that she had access to the tracking system on Cole’s Range Rover. Not only that, but the system was accessible through a web-based app, and Sloane kept her laptop, camera, and other tools of the trade in the trunk of her Lexus.
“Force of habit,” she said with a shrug as she fired up the computer and logged in. We were sitting in the car, and I was watching the screen, tapping my foot because it wasn’t booting up quickly enough to soothe my nerves.
When the program was finally up and running, I was just as frustrated. It was gibberish to me, at least until Sloane made a few adjustments and shifted the specs into map mode. She tapped her finger on a purple dot blinking on the screen. “South Side.” She caught my eye. “Pretty deep in, too. And the vehicle’s not moving.”