Billy & The Beast (Ever After, New York #3) - Eli Easton Page 0,62
like I made it nervous.
“Have a seat, Billy.” Amanda took the chair, sitting on the edge with her back straight, as if she didn’t think this would take long.
I was almost afraid to sit on the white loveseat. I discreetly brushed off the back of my pants before I sat down.
She looked at me expectantly. “How do you know Seb?”
“I work for him. I was hired as a gardener, but we became friends. Then we . . . we started dating.”
“And where was this?”
I hesitated. “I’m not sure he would want me to tell people where he’s living now. But I’d be happy to ask him to give you a call when I see him again, or take a message to him.”
One side of her lips turned up. “Good. You shouldn’t tell people where he is.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure why she thought so. “I’m hoping you can tell me something about Emmanuel Clark and his relationship with Seb. There’s something fishy going on, and I think that’s been the case since the accident. Probably before. Apparently you thought so too, because you talked to Detective Simmons.”
She shook her head, her face closed off. “That was a mistake. I could never prove anything. I don’t have anything more to say about that.”
There was a little hitch in her voice. And her hand, on the arm of the chair, was shaking ever so slightly. Was she scared? I thought about the way Emmanuel had come after me. Had someone threatened her if she didn’t keep quiet?
It was so frustrating. She was the only lead I had, the only person who might be able to clue me in on what Emmanuel Clark was up to. And she wouldn’t talk.
But she said she’d talk about Seb. That might be the way to get through to her.
“Did you know Seb well?” I asked. “I guess he worked at Montgomery Enterprises for a while.”
She gave a tiny sigh. “I worked closely with his father for years. I was his CFO, so I saw Seb at company functions—those he chose to attend—or when he came into the office.” Her lips quirked up a little, her eyes distant. “He was such a good-looking kid and such a rapscallion. I admired his zest for life, if not always his choices.” Her gaze focused on me. “If you really know him now . . .” She trailed off, as if she wanted to believe me but she wasn’t convinced.
I took out my phone. I only had the one photo of Aaron, the pic I’d taken on the boat. It wasn’t my place to share a photo of him. But Amanda seemed to genuinely care for him, and maybe seeing him again would get her to open up.
Listen to your heart, Mrs. Delphi had said.
I handed her the phone.
She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes grew damp. She stared at it for a long moment. “Oh.” She nodded. “Yes, he does look well. Oh my. That’s . . .” Her voice cracked.
“He’s doing really well. He takes long walks with his dog, Jack. He swims. He’s feeling more positive. Or at least, he was.”
She handed me back my phone. “Thank you for showing me that. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Please tell Aaron I think about him often, and I’m so glad he’s had such a full recovery. The last I heard, well, the doctors weren’t hopeful.”
“He’s lucky,” I agreed.
“You said . . . he was feeling more positive? Has . . . something happened?” Her tone was hesitant, like she didn’t want to be drawn into this situation, but she couldn’t help herself.
As with Detective Simmons, I felt uneasy about how much I should say. But she knew Emmanuel Clark. I had to find out what she knew.
So I gave her a brief history: how I’d worked for Aaron and we’d started a relationship. About Aaron’s belief that he killed two people in that car crash and seemed determined to punish himself for it, to imprison himself at home—and how I’d come to find out from the police that wasn’t the case at all. About how Emmanuel Clark hit me with an injunction and cut me off from Aaron completely.
“I know I probably sound like some rejected boyfriend who just can’t accept the end of things. But that’s not it at all. I’m worried about Seb. I’m worried someone is manipulating him—that Emmanuel is manipulating him. I just don’t know why. I talked