hallway. On the other side of the glass-paneled solarium doors, Carter struggled with officers.
“Let me in! Nathan? Nathan, what’s going on?” he shouted. “They said Preston was attacked and Belle’s gone.”
“Let him in,” I said.
Ortiz gestured for them to let him pass.
Carter blew in, bearing down on me. “Is it true?”
I nodded.
“Fuck!” He shoved away, stalking back and forth like a caged animal. “Is it him?”
“Has to be.”
“We have to find her.” Carter spun on the detectives. “You have to get out there and find her now!”
“Calm down, sir,” said Ortiz. “What’s your name?”
“My name is Carter Knight and the scar you eyed twice since I got in the room was a gift from Malcolm Byrne. He cannot get away with her!”
“We understand the seriousness of the—”
“You don’t understand! You don’t know who he is.”
Hanson stepped in their path. “Enlighten us.”
“He— He’s— Hold on.”
Carter ran out the door.
The detectives watched him go and then turned back to me.
“Can you think of any other possible suspects or motives?” Hanson asked. “Does Belle or her family have enemies that you know of? Could there be a financial motive?”
“No. I’m telling you it’s Malcolm.”
We went back and forth—them insisting they had to be thorough while Belle got farther and farther away.
“Mrs. Desai, could your son have been the target and Miss Adler taken because she got in the way?”
Rosalie clutched her chest. “Of course not. No one would wish to harm my son. He doesn’t have an enemy in the world.” She got to her feet. “If that’s quite enough, there’s been a murder on my property, one of my guests was kidnapped, and my son is alone in the hospital. He needs me, and I quite agree with Nathan, you should be out there looking for the man responsible for this.”
“Yes, ma’am, we understand. If you’d bear with us for a little—”
Carter blew in on another cloud of agitation. In his hand, he held something I couldn’t make out.
“Okay, listen, and don’t interrupt,” he began. “We’ve wasted enough fucking time.”
Ortiz opened his mouth. “We’re not wasting—”
“Listen,” he sliced in. “The first thing you need to know is Belle is adopted.”
I rocked back. “What?”
“It’s true. Technically, it’s true. Tobias and Cecilia Lewis-Adler are her biological great-aunt and great-uncle. Belle’s grandmother was Cecilia’s sister.
“Belle’s mom lost her parents shortly after she graduated college. They left her money and a home, so Cecilia and Tobias didn’t think she needed their support. They were wrong,” he said. “She fell in with Belle’s father, Patrick Quinn. Patrick was a decent guy who treated her well, but he worked for the Byrne family. They were the Irish mob that controlled their town.
“Her mom was five months’ pregnant with Belle when Patrick was killed in a job gone wrong, and she was left alone and vulnerable. Malcolm fucking Byrne was on her before his body was cold—going on about the family being there for Patrick’s girl, and she and Belle would always be taken care of. She married him a year later.”
Hanson frowned. “You’re saying Malcolm Byrne is Miss Adler’s stepfather.”
“Yes. An abusive, controlling, jealous prick of a stepfather who beat Belle’s mom whenever he was drunk. The guy was paranoid and delusional. If she was two minutes late coming home from the supermarket, he accused her of cheating. When Belle was five, she finally had enough. One night, she put Belle in the car and made a run for it. She didn’t know he had his men tailing her at that point.
“They woke Malcolm up and chased her across town. The guy went crazy, ramming the back of her car until she spun out and crashed into the guardrail. She died on impact.”
Horror leaded my bones. I sank onto a chair, breaths shortening as the rest of Belle’s story unfolded.
“Belle survived the crash, but the collisions messed up Malcolm’s brakes. He crashed too and bashed his head on the steering wheel. His men pulled him unconscious from the car and fled with him. Belle sat there alone for hours until someone drove past the accident and called the police. The ironic part is those shits probably saved her life.
“Malcolm was furious when he woke up. A mess over killing his wife and raging that the only part left of her was safely in the hands of child services and out of his reach. He got himself off the murder charge by making his men swear he was with them all night. Then he set to work.