up okay?”
“I’m really not,” I admit, my voice shaking a little. “And I need a favor, a big one.”
“Yes, I will kill Monica. How do you want it done? Messy to make a statement, or pig-farm clean so there’s no trace?”
I laugh through my tears. “Thank you for that, but no. Listen, remember when you were banging that editor from TMZ last summer? What was her name?”
There’s a beat of silence before Mateo draws out my name. “Brooklyn…”
“I need to do this, Mat. I’ve got a story to tell. Hook me up.”
He huffs but I know he won’t deny me. “Blair Roberts. I’ll send you her number.”
“Thank you.”
We talk for a few minutes more before I end the call. Seconds later, Mateo texts me her contact info.
I stare at it for a moment before taking a deep breath and dialing.
Luka
Chapter 24
“Fuck it, I’m calling the police. They’re professionals. Maybe they can track her down.”
“Luka,” Emzee sighs. “You need to chill out. I’m sure she’ll be home soon. For now, just…try to think happy thoughts.”
My sister sucks at trying to talk me off a ledge. It’s been twenty-four hours since the exposé came out, and my wife hasn’t come home yet. Brooklyn won’t pick up her phone or respond to my texts, and everyone I’ve spoken with hasn’t seen or heard from her either, including her parents. I’m frantic. Obviously she’s upset about the article, but I thought we’d weather the storm together. Now I can’t help thinking she’s walked out on me. Or worse—that something bad has happened to her. I don’t understand how Emzee can be so calm.
The last person to see her, as far as I’ve gathered, was my sister. I’ve checked in at Brooklyn’s favorite bistro, the coffee shop that makes the bizarre beet lattes she likes, the park by the water where she goes running. Nothing. I even called Heart and Home to see if she popped in for some volunteer work, but to no avail. As the hours grew long and darkness set in, I had to accept the most likely scenario. She’d gone into hiding.
But why would she be hiding from me?
Morning came and still no word, so I called out of work. Now I’m camped out in the kitchen in front of my laptop, my third cup of coffee going cold beside me. I’ve had Emzee on speaker for the past half hour. She’s keeping me from having a complete meltdown, but the moment I pull up a local search for private investigators, my anxiety is through the roof again.
“This doesn’t make any sense. Why didn’t she at least let me know where she was going? I feel like I’m going to snap.” The words have enough bite to shock me.
“I’m coming over,” Emzee declares. “Stay put. I’ll be there in twenty.”
She hangs up and I scroll through the P.I. listings. I see the names and descriptions, but I don’t really process anything. My mind keeps straying to where my wife might be. Meanwhile, my phone vibrates with reminders of missed calls, voicemails, and a barrage of incoming social media notifications. I turn off the notifications and check to see if I’ve missed anything from my wife. Nothing. Of course not.
I haven’t bothered looking at any social media posts since yesterday when this whole thing happened. There is nothing good that will come from spiraling down that rabbit hole. But the notifications just keep rolling in. How long before some sleazeball journalist figures out she’s missing? The gossip will compound by a million.
I have to find her.
Scrolling through my contacts, I’m about to dial Stefan again, but I stop myself. I’ve already called four times today, and he hasn’t had any info to pass along. Plus, he’s at work. I appreciate that he’s taken all my calls, but after the last one he told me to take it easy and promised he’d reach out the second he heard anything. I have to assume that he’ll keep his word.
Desperate for a lead, I log into our credit card accounts online and check our banking transactions to see if she’s used any cards in the hours since I’ve seen her last. Both are dead ends. It’s like she’s fallen completely off the map. She hasn’t emailed me either.
Fuck Monica for doing this to us. I couldn’t believe it when I’d seen the news on social media. I wanted to go to Brooklyn immediately, to shelter her from the fallout somehow, but the explosion at work